Tweet
Originally posted by Joseph
View Post
To Be an Armenian in Turkey...
Translated by the Armenian Weekly translation team
The Armenian Weekly
June 16, 2007
The following article, originally written in Turkish, was circulated on the
internet in early June. The name of the author is not known.
It is a strange feeling to be an Armenian in Turkey…
Even though after the so-called assassination of Hrant Dink, thousands of
people shouted “We are all Hrant, we are all Armenian,” even though many
others mistook that slogan for something else, it really meant “We are all
human.”
It is a strange feeling to be an Armenian in Turkey. In fact, one can hardly
get there just by shouting.
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be asked to prepare topik (1) by friends
who know. It is telling the government official your name and getting a
peculiar look from him, then being asked “Are you Armenian?” with a scornful stare. It is having your name misspelled everywhere. During military service, to be an Armenian in Turkey is to be asked by your friends to say
kelime-i shahadet (2) (“just for once”).
And yet, it is to fall in love with the Maiden’s Tower (3), to be absorbed
in thought watching Istanbul from the Galata Tower (4).
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to have children who read anti-Armenian
remarks in their school books; it is to have no answer when they ask what it
means. To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be mentioned as “an Armenian
friend…but a really nice fellow.”
And yet, it is to sing Turkish classical music from the heart at a table
with fish, with raki (5), with midye dolma (6).
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be called by some friends on some
occasions, who say “Don’t worry, they are ignorant. We know you, we love
you.”
To be an Armenian is to hesitate to say your name when you meet someone, and
when you do, it is the habit of trying to guess what the other person is
thinking from his or her face.
It is to brood over what you are going to tell your children if they hear
the ministers calling a terrorist leader an “Armenian seed.”
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be asked what you think about the French
laws… It is to have to start your answer with a “so-called.” To be an
Armenian in Turkey is to be unable to become a dustman, unable to become a
civil servant.
And yet, it is to remember how much you love Turkey, when you throw simit
(7) to the seagulls on a ferry.
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to have non-Armenian teachers placed in your
schools—teachers who are told by some “important” people to be their “eyes
and ears.”
It is to find a subtle way to discourage your children from wanting to be
governors or ministers when they grow up. It is to have to convince them to
be something else, without breaking their hearts, without explaining
everything. Because to be an Armenian in Turkey is to be unable to become a
policeman, a civil servant, a deputy, an army officer, even though you are a
Turk. Unlike Turks in Germany, who can be all those things.
And yet, eating arabasi (8) soup, watching Hababam Sinifi (9), loving cig
kofte (10) is to be Armenian.
To think, to produce, to be an artist is to be Armenian.
Whenever the idea of emigration comes up, it is to think how much you love
this place.
To be timid like a pigeon.
And yet, it is to proudly sing the Independence March (11) every morning and
shout “Happy to be a Turk” in a Turkey where you don’t have a say…
Only when a Turk of Armenian descent becomes a civil servant or army officer
will I believe that I am regarded as a Turk. Until then, I’ll be singing
Edip Akbayram’s Aldirma Gonul (12).
That’s what it is to be an Armenian in Turkey—to be attacked by some when
you sing Sari Gelin (13) in Armenian, and then say “never mind” and start
singing it in Turkish. And, sometimes, it is to lie on the street with a
hole in your shoe, eternalizing your ideas, making thousands of people learn
to sing Sari Gelin in Armenian.
In short…
It is not an easy thing, to be an Armenian in Turkey. And yet it is
beautiful, different as much as beautiful. It’s a love affair, to be an
Armenian in Turkey
When you are told to “leave if you don’t like it,” it is to say, “And yet,
this is my country as well.”..
Translated by the Armenian Weekly translation team
The Armenian Weekly
June 16, 2007
The following article, originally written in Turkish, was circulated on the
internet in early June. The name of the author is not known.
It is a strange feeling to be an Armenian in Turkey…
Even though after the so-called assassination of Hrant Dink, thousands of
people shouted “We are all Hrant, we are all Armenian,” even though many
others mistook that slogan for something else, it really meant “We are all
human.”
It is a strange feeling to be an Armenian in Turkey. In fact, one can hardly
get there just by shouting.
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be asked to prepare topik (1) by friends
who know. It is telling the government official your name and getting a
peculiar look from him, then being asked “Are you Armenian?” with a scornful stare. It is having your name misspelled everywhere. During military service, to be an Armenian in Turkey is to be asked by your friends to say
kelime-i shahadet (2) (“just for once”).
And yet, it is to fall in love with the Maiden’s Tower (3), to be absorbed
in thought watching Istanbul from the Galata Tower (4).
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to have children who read anti-Armenian
remarks in their school books; it is to have no answer when they ask what it
means. To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be mentioned as “an Armenian
friend…but a really nice fellow.”
And yet, it is to sing Turkish classical music from the heart at a table
with fish, with raki (5), with midye dolma (6).
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be called by some friends on some
occasions, who say “Don’t worry, they are ignorant. We know you, we love
you.”
To be an Armenian is to hesitate to say your name when you meet someone, and
when you do, it is the habit of trying to guess what the other person is
thinking from his or her face.
It is to brood over what you are going to tell your children if they hear
the ministers calling a terrorist leader an “Armenian seed.”
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to be asked what you think about the French
laws… It is to have to start your answer with a “so-called.” To be an
Armenian in Turkey is to be unable to become a dustman, unable to become a
civil servant.
And yet, it is to remember how much you love Turkey, when you throw simit
(7) to the seagulls on a ferry.
To be an Armenian in Turkey is to have non-Armenian teachers placed in your
schools—teachers who are told by some “important” people to be their “eyes
and ears.”
It is to find a subtle way to discourage your children from wanting to be
governors or ministers when they grow up. It is to have to convince them to
be something else, without breaking their hearts, without explaining
everything. Because to be an Armenian in Turkey is to be unable to become a
policeman, a civil servant, a deputy, an army officer, even though you are a
Turk. Unlike Turks in Germany, who can be all those things.
And yet, eating arabasi (8) soup, watching Hababam Sinifi (9), loving cig
kofte (10) is to be Armenian.
To think, to produce, to be an artist is to be Armenian.
Whenever the idea of emigration comes up, it is to think how much you love
this place.
To be timid like a pigeon.
And yet, it is to proudly sing the Independence March (11) every morning and
shout “Happy to be a Turk” in a Turkey where you don’t have a say…
Only when a Turk of Armenian descent becomes a civil servant or army officer
will I believe that I am regarded as a Turk. Until then, I’ll be singing
Edip Akbayram’s Aldirma Gonul (12).
That’s what it is to be an Armenian in Turkey—to be attacked by some when
you sing Sari Gelin (13) in Armenian, and then say “never mind” and start
singing it in Turkish. And, sometimes, it is to lie on the street with a
hole in your shoe, eternalizing your ideas, making thousands of people learn
to sing Sari Gelin in Armenian.
In short…
It is not an easy thing, to be an Armenian in Turkey. And yet it is
beautiful, different as much as beautiful. It’s a love affair, to be an
Armenian in Turkey
When you are told to “leave if you don’t like it,” it is to say, “And yet,
this is my country as well.”..
Comment