Tag: Beyoglu

  • Tables have been cleared in Istanbul’s Beyoglu nightlife district, and business is down

    Tables have been cleared in Istanbul’s Beyoglu nightlife district, and business is down

    Thomas Seibert

    Before the clampdown, the streets outside the Refik restaurant in Istanbul would have been filled with tables - now they are empty. "There used to be 200 to 300 people here every day," says Mahmut Kaya, a kitchen worker. "Now we have 50 to 60." Kerem Uzel / NarPhotos for The National

    ISTANBUL // Mahmut Kaya looked out over the empty street in the heart of Istanbul’s nightlife district and shook his head as if he still could not quite believe it.

    Only a few weeks ago streets such as the one outside the Refik restaurant, where Mr Kaya works in the kitchen, were filled with neatly set tables.

    But one day in late July officials from the district municipality removed all the tables and by doing so kicked off the latest debate about what government critics say is increasing Islamist pressure to change Turkey’s secular republic.

    “They do not want to see people drinking alcohol in the street,” Mr Kaya said as he sat on a chair at Refik’s this week, waiting for lunchtime guests in the empty restaurant. “It has hurt us,” he said about the removal of about half a dozen street tables, roughly half of what Refik has inside.

    “There used to be 200 to 300 people here every day. Now we have 50 to 60. It’s summer. No one wants to sit indoors.”

    Beyoglu, the bar-filled district around Refik, is a prime attraction for millions of tourists in Istanbul every year. While other parts of the city represent the history and rich cultural heritage of what used to be the capital of the Byzantine and Ottoman empires, Beyoglu is all about dancing, shopping, eating and drinking until the early hours.

    But the “Table Operation”, as it has become known in the media, makes some critics wonder whether the religiously conservative government of Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the prime minister, is trying to clamp down on the district’s freewheeling lifestyle.

    Mr Kaya and others referred to unconfirmed reports that Mr Erdogan, a conservative Muslim, passed through Beyoglu shortly before the start of Ramadan. Mr Erdogan, so the story goes, got stuck in his car in one of the side-streets because of the crowds and the tables on the streets and became angry when revellers lifted their wine and beer glasses to greet him. A few days later, the “Table Operation” began. Mr Erdogan has not commented on the suggestions.

    The authorities say the aim of the “Table Operation” was to make life easier for citizens in Beyoglu who had trouble getting through some streets that had become narrow passageways because of the many restaurant tables placed on the pavement.

    Business owners “were just thinking about how to earn even more money”, Sadettin Ozyazici, the deputy chairman of Istanbul’s municipal police force, told Turkish reporters last week. He said “on the whole, reaction of people has been positive”.

    Even some Refik employees supported the municipality’s move. “Nobody was able to get through here any more,” said Ahmet Arslan, 74, who has worked as a chef in Beyoglu for decades. “There were also pickpockets that snatched stuff from the street tables.”

    Critics of the “Table Operation” admitted that some bar owners had put far more tables on to the streets than they had permission for.

    But that has not dampened the debate about the alleged religious motives behind the action.

    “Beyoglu is not a place where you greet tourists just with some sweets,” Gursel Tekin, a deputy leader of the secularist Republican People’s Party, or CHP, Turkey’s biggest opposition party, said at a demonstration against the “Table Operation”.

    Operations to clear away restaurant tables have been reported in other parts of Istanbul as well.

    Actions such as the one in Beyoglu “help to strengthen the conservative hegemony” of Mr Erdogan’s ruling Justice and Development Party, or AKP, Armagan Ozturk, a political scientist, wrote in a commentary for bianet.org, an EU-sponsored news website.

    Since coming to office almost 10 years ago, Mr Erdogan’s government has often been accused of following a secret agenda to turn Turkey into an Islamic theocracy, a charge the government denies, pointing to its track record of political reforms that have strengthened democracy. Also, alcohol consumption in Turkey has risen, not fallen, under Mr Erdogan, according to official statistics. According to figures released this year, 1.4 billion litres of alcoholic beverages were consumed in Turkey in 2010, 1.4 per cent up from 2009.

    Tahir Berrakkarasu, the vice-chairman of the Association of the Entertainment Sector in Beyoglu, a local pressure group, said he doubted there had been religious reasons behind the “Table Operation”.

    “If this was about Islam, why didn’t they do it during last year’s Ramadan?” Mr Berrakkarasu, a fierce critic of the programme, asked over a glass of tea in a Beyoglu side-street cafe.

    Mr Berrakkarasu speculated that the “Table Operation” was triggered by Mr Erdogan’s anger about getting stuck in that Beyoglu street. The prime minister had probably ordered the AKP-controlled district municipality to do something about it, Mr Berrakkarasu said.

    “All of a sudden, people at the municipality with whom we have been talking for years did not pick up their telephones when we were calling, because they didn’t know what to tell us,” Mr Berrakkarasu said. He compared the “Table Operation” to the fate of a monument in the eastern Anatolian city of Kars, where the city administration decided to tear down the work of art after Mr Erdogan called it “monstrous” during a visit this year.

    Whatever the motives behind it, the “Table Operation” has cut business by up to 80 per cent for some restaurants, Mr Berrakkarasu said. His association was trying to find a way out. “We can find practical solutions. It’s not like having to discover America all over again.”

    He said his association was preparing to present plans with solutions for next year’s summer season to both the AKP and the CHP. A stricter limit on street tables was inevitable, Mr Berrakkarasu conceded. “There will be no return to the old days.”

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  • Why sidewalk dining is banned in Istanbul

    Why sidewalk dining is banned in Istanbul

    Diners in the busy Istanbul district of Beyoglu are being forced to take their meals inside, as government regulations have banned outdoor dining.

    Photo of outdoor diners (Image by Mehmet Ergun/Wikipedia)
    Photo of outdoor diners (Image by Mehmet Ergun/Wikipedia)

    The district of Beyoğlu in the city of Istanbul is a busy tourist and night-time area with bars and restaurants, most of which had, until recently, outdoor seating sections. Those outdoor eating areas have now gone quiet, after government regulations cracked down on restaurant owners who want to serve meals outside.

    “Certain rumor are running around, of course,” Constanze Letsch of The Guardian told PRI’s The World. “Some people say it’s because Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan… got stuck between chairs and tables and couldn’t pass.” Officials are saying they received 1,000 complaints during the first 7 months of the year from residents who say they couldn’t pass through all the tables and chairs.

    Restaurant owners are clearly upset about the new regulations, saying they’re losing money and being forced to lay people off. “There’s one solution being offered now by the municipality,” Letsch reports, “which is a 70 centimeter balcony that can be added.” Though that’s hardly enough room to make up for lost revenue.

    Some owners have taken the situation into their own hands. Letsch talked to one owner who has “one, sometimes two tables outside, which is not allowed at the moment.” To protect himself, “he pays a guy a monthly fee to look out for the police so he can warn him when the police are near and he can take the tables inside.”

    “There is no solution that’s right in front of people,” Letsch reports. “Lots of bar and restaurant goers are unhappy because they can’t go there anymore and sit outside, and residents or people who work in Beyoglu say well, this is actually good because now we can pass through the streets without being obstructed by chairs and tables like we used to be.”

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    PRI’s “The World” is a one-hour, weekday radio news magazine offering a mix of news, features, interviews, and music from around the globe. “The World” is a co-production of the BBC World Service, PRI and WGBH Boston. More about The World.

    via Why sidewalk dining is banned in Istanbul | PRI.ORG.

  • Istanbul’s al fresco diners lose their chairs

    Istanbul’s al fresco diners lose their chairs

    Outdoor tables and chairs go from many cafes in Beyoğlu tourist area after official crackdown

    Constanze Letsch in Istanbul

    guardian.co.uk

    Istanbul restaurant balcony

    Istanbul restaurant balco 007

    Bar and restaurant owners forced to remove tables and chairs can replace them with a ’70cm balcony’, the municipality says. So far the costly compromise has not proved popular. Photograph: www.radikal.com

    It is the tourism heart of Istanbul, a cosmopolitan district packed with bars, clubs, cafes and restaurants which has always been a magnet for the al fresco diner. But outdoor tables are becoming harder to find in Beyoğlu, since the authorities inexplicably ordered many of them to be removed.

    Local eateries say they are losing money and Turkish media report that the measure, brought in at the end of July, has resulted in 2,000 staff losing their jobs.

    It is not hard to see why. In the usually bustling district, a sign outside a bar advertises cheap tequila shots and beer, but the tables inside are empty.

    Mehmet Papatya, who has been working there for seven years and lives above the bar, said: “We pay 6,000 Turkish lira [£2,110] every month for the space alone, we need to have tables outside.”

    Four tables have been taken away by the municipal police – without prior warning, according to Papatya. “Nobody here pays rent at the moment. Our landlord will either grant us a rent reduction, or we will have to close shop.”

    According to the Beyoğlu municipality, there were 1,066 complaints from people not being able to pass between restaurants, and 868 formal complaints about rubbish left out on the street. Rumour has it that the “table operations” were initiated by the Turkish prime minister, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, whose motorcade got stuck because of urban furniture before Ramadan.

    One possible solution offered by the municipality is the “70cm balcony” that can be added outside – so far only one restaurant has put the idea into practice, at a price of 20,000 lira. According to Turkish media, the official guidelines are vague: the balcony should be “chic” and not cheap-looking, but business owners could decide themselves about the final design. Most restaurant and bar owners, however, reject this costly plan.

    Mehmet Aktaş, who works in a restaurant, said: “We used to have 18 tables with room for 40 to 50 people. Now we have three tables left. Five out of eight employees are on unpaid leave.”

    Like many restaurants in Beyoğlu they have seen their revenues fall by almost 80%.

    Aktaş said the municipality’s policy would affect a broader local economy: “We buy from fishermen, butchers and greengrocers.”

    Erol, a publisher who enjoys a beer sitting on a windowsill at Kahve Pi, has been working in Beyoğlu for eight years. “About 15 years ago it must have been a little like this here, very quiet. And to be honest, the silence is quite nice. Of course from the point of view of business owners, this silence is not a good thing.”

    via Istanbul’s al fresco diners lose their chairs | World news | The Guardian.

  • Dimming the Red Lights in Turkey

    Dimming the Red Lights in Turkey

    By ANNA LOUIE SUSSMAN

    On a Sunday afternoon earlier this summer, hundreds of Turkish men disappeared down a short alleyway just a five-minute walk from the Istanbul Modern art museum. Some flicked prayer beads around their fingers. The younger ones arrived in small groups, flashing nervous grins and smoothing their hair down with spit. They strode by a pile of garbage bags holding wadded-up tissues and cigarette butts before reaching a metal gate that separated the alley from their destination: Kadem Street, a narrow cul-de-sac and one of the country’s few remaining red-light districts.

    Anna Louie Sussman for The New York Times  The unsavory, garbage-strewn pathway to the city's sex district.
    Anna Louie Sussman for The New York Times The unsavory, garbage-strewn pathway to the city's sex district.
    Anna Louie Sussman for The New York Times

    The unsavory, garbage-strewn pathway to the city’s sex district.

    A policeman scanned the men’s identification cards and ushered them through a metal detector and into the fray, where voluptuous women in bras and underwear occupied the doorways of the half-dozen houses that lined the street. Minors were refused entry. Minors who could afford a 20-lira bribe were not.

    Since the 1870s, prostitution has thrived in Istanbul’s Beyoglu district, which houses Kadem and its sister street, Zurafa. For five decades, an Armenian businesswoman, Matild Manukyan, ran an empire of Beyoglu brothels that netted her an estimated $4 million annually until her death in 2001. Sunday, the last day of rest before the workweek, always brought her particularly brisk business.

    Now, the alleyway leading to Kadem is lined with plumbing and appliance shops, all of which are closed on Sunday. For most of the day, the only commerce on the street consisted of a man hawking peeled cucumbers from a wooden cart at one end and a shoe shiner with bloodshot eyes and a raspy voice at the other. Midafternoon, a man trudged by with another cart, this one bearing bananas.

    “Cucumbers and bananas, for energy,” explained Yenten, an unemployed construction worker. He emerged from prison two days earlier, after a three-month stint for failing to pay alimony to his ex-wife. Saturday he visited relatives, and Sunday found him sitting on the sidewalk outside Kadem, pulling on cigarettes and contemplating a little diversion.

    “I’m a single man,” he said. “I need this.”

    A no-frills encounter costs 35 Turkish lira, around $20. Twenty lira goes to the house, the rest to the woman. A little tenderness — kissing, caressing, honeyed words — costs 15 to 20 lira extra, which strikes Yenten as unjust.

    “That place is a money trap,” he said. “If you don’t give the extra 20 lira tip, they act very rude. They just have sex and throw you out.”

    Sitting next to him on the curb were two cousins, recent high-school graduates, who live on the fringes of Istanbul. The blond one was 18, short and stout, with a pimply face. “If we have money, even just a little, we come here,” he said. “These women are healthy, the government checks them and we trust them.” Other options for paid sex — “telegirls,” who are reachable via cellphone or Web sites; Eastern European women, or “Natashas,” who work out of unlicensed houses; and pavyons, hostess bars, which require an evening of drinking — hold less appeal.

    His handsome, green-eyed cousin visits Kadem Street regularly, although he has a serious girlfriend whom he meets late at night in a park near his house. They kiss, but sex before marriage is out of the question. “You can’t just sleep with the girl you love,” he says. Nor can you tell her you visit brothels. “She would break up with me immediately.”

    With Manukyan’s death, the city lost not only a substantial source of revenue (she reportedly paid $1.2 million in taxes in 1992), but also a good half-dozen of its best-known brothels. Her son, an engineer, closed her properties. None have reopened, a likely consequence of the ruling Islamist party’s disdain for this particular line of work.

    Jafar, a mustachioed man who identified himself as a brothel guard, said the government has essentially stopped granting sex licenses. Numbers are notoriously difficult to come by, but Jafar estimates that as many as 7,000 women in Istanbul have pending applications, while only around 130, according to the research of Sevval Kilic, an activist for sex workers’ rights, are officially registered. She estimates that at least 100,000 women work in Turkey’s sex industry illegally.

    Yasemin, a sex worker with full lips and blue eyes, arrived at Kadem Street eight years ago, after nearly three decades in brothels in other parts of Turkey. At 45, she doesn’t do the half-clothed-and-beckoning routine. She waits inside, listening to music on her headphones. She sees 5 to 15 clients in a day, mostly regulars, netting up to $6,000 a month. Her colleagues, she said, will see as many as 50 men in a 12-hour workday.

    “Nowadays these women have all lost their morals,” she said. “There’s no more service, no more caring for the customers.”

    Once upon a time, she said, “these used to be houses of love.”

    Anna Louie Sussman reported from Istanbul with the support of the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting.

    via Dimming the Red Lights in Turkey – NYTimes.com.