We were given a recommendation by a friend of friend in Minnesota who used to import rugs with her husband to resell. She is Turkish.
With a hand written note in Turkish and a name on a scrap paper, we sought this person out. After flexing my best internet sleuthing techniques, we came up with three possible locations for his shop. This guy is a wholesaler and does not have a website, relying on word of mouth and personal connection. Not to mention, google maps has met its match in Istanbul. Addresses rarely pinpoint the right spot. You're lucky if it directs you to the correct block.
We found his shop in the basement of a rug bazaar off the beaten track. We walked into a moderately sized room, stacked to the ceiling with folded "kilims", two guys sitting on the floor performing repairs. We asked, "Nedeem?" One of the men affirmed with a nod and quickly got up, shook our hands then stepped out, obviously in search of someone. A few minutes later, he returned along with a man in a suite and wool overcoat. Short, dark complected, droopy jowls giving him a boxy face. Middle aged. He kinda looked like my middle school basketball coach, Mr. Ortiz. He immediately knew of our contact in the states, including some specific details he couldn't have made up. We had our guy. We gave him the hand written note, and he pulled up some stools.
He offered us tea (the first of many we would have that day), and a few minutes later it was delivered. Tea is consumed in little glass tulip shaped cups, served on a saucer with two sugar cubes and a small spoon.
Nedim bought lunch and we headed back to the shop.
Over tea, Nedim started opening up as we began to talk about carpets. At his direction, his assistants started digging into the stacks and unfolding the kilims for us to see. Turkish kilims are carpets woven on a loom, usually with wool, and don't have much pile.
The assistants unfolded most of the kilims in that room and the adjacent room in pretty rapid succession as Nedim described their origin and age and whether they were "nice" or "cheap". We looked at close to a hundred.
Cheap being a relative term, of course. All of the kilims are vintage, the older the "nicer". Old age doesn't add value simply because it's old, but also because it signifies quality. Older kilims don't contain synthetic fibers and the wool is hand spun. Also, the older rugs use natural dye, not synthetic, affecting the way the piece looks over time.They were also made by women, mainly for personal family use.
Time for more tea.
The deal being done, we had more tea. The kilims would be ready to pick up in a few days after some repairs and prep for transport. We were exhausted.
Nedim then said, "Wednesday we go to music. Meet here at 9 pm, get some sleep." (The current day was Monday.)
On Wednesday evening, we wandered the streets near the kilim shop, looking for a place to eat before we would meet nedim and go out. He happened to be outside talking to someone and spotted us down the block. He whistled and hailed us over. He wondered why we were so early. We told him we were looking to grab a bite to eat before meeting him in a couple hours. He said, "no, we go to dinner together, I told you not to eat". When we thought he told us to get some sleep, he actually said "don't eat." Whoops.
A little embarrassed we said no problem, we'll go get tea and come back. He insisted that he take us for tea and show us a place where men play cards and other games.
The entrance was on an alley and there was no sign. We walked down the stairs into a smoke infested parlor. A couple billiards tables and a bunch of card tables. Men playing cards, backgammon and what looked like rumicube. Everyone smoking and drinking tea, not a drop of alcohol in the place.
We pulled up chairs to watch some of Nedim's friends play cards. It appeared that four of them were playing euchre. We drank a couple glasses of tea. Once we had been in there long enough to be sure our baby was going to be born early and with low birth weight from smoke exposure, we gave Nedim the nod that we were ready to go.
We jumped in Nedim's car, which he happens to park right by sultanahmet square and the exact spot of the suicide bombing a couple weeks prior. We mentioned the bombing, and he said it happened 10 minutes after he had parked, and he heard the blast while walking to work.
We sat in bumper to bumper traffic making our way out of the center. After an hour in the car and traveling 12km, we arrived. The place was right by Nedim's house and he was a regular. We were sat right next to the stage.
A bottle of Raki ('rocky') was brought over and a bunch of mezzes (cold appetizers, spreads etc that are typical Turkish cuisine). Raki is an anise flavored liquor like ouzo. When mixed with water (the common prep), it turns milky white.
We ate and drank while the band fired up. It was a traditional anatolian group with 5 members. The lead playing a baglama (a guitar like thing with a rounded body), a violin, flute, keyboard and percussion. It was loud and very upbeat.
After a while, Nedim ordered spicy chicken wings as our main dish (famous at this place, supposedly).
The main attraction was then introduced, to sing with the house band backing him up. Standing out in front of the stage, dressed in a suite, flamboyant like a lounge singer. He would take requests that people write on napkins for the waiters to deliver.
He was all over the room. Often handing the microphone to audience members for an impromptu duet. Sometimes allowing them to sing full songs. It was like a concert and karaoke all in one.
At one point, several people started dancing a traditional number. In a line, men on one end, women the other. They gyrated their shoulders up and down in a fast rhythm, kicking feet in and out.
It reminded me of the wee hours of a wedding reception where the only ones left are the really close friends and the really drunk people, keeping the party alive like there is no tomorrow.
At about 1:30am we were exhausted, I was half drunk, our ears were ringing and the second hand smoke was making us hoarse. Any developmental issues or character flaws our child has, I'm going to blame on this night. We suggested that we leave, knowing Nedim would otherwise stay all night. It literally took us a week to recover.
The following week, we ventured across the golden horn back to the shop to collect our wares. We drank a few cups of tea while the assistants showed us the kilims again and then packaged them into a duffel bag weighing 45 pounds.
