By Ruken Alişkan 

Prior to the First World War, the settlement in Didim was around Apollon and Greeks lived there. However, with the population exchange agreement made after the war, Turks and Greeks were mutually expelled.

I say “were mutually expelled” because people were hastily put on ships by soldiers without any preparation, on both sides of the Aegean Sea. This population exchange lasted between 1923 and 1930.

History books have that information. But I heard from Zühre the part that is not in the books; people’s forced migration, their journey, their life after coming to Didim, efforts to hold on to life, their daily lives and feelings.

Zühre was born in 1945, that is she had not seen this immigration but she grew up in a family that has traces of it. She heard about those days from her elders, especially her grandmother.

“People crammed into the ships. They’ve all felt offended. All of a sudden, they take you from the place that you call home, they place you in the lives of other people,” says Zühre.

“There was a scene that my grandmother remembered the most, she used to tell about it very often: They came to Didim. Everyone is placed in a house. When my grandmother entered the house, she saw a floor table and the food was left on the plates. “People who couldn’t even clear their tables,” my grandmother used to say, she was very upset.”

I’m asking if you had any losses on the way. “Many infants have died. We did not have any loss, but our neighbours lost their children. They spent the journey with the death of their babies in their arms.”

I wonder what Didim was like in those days. “It was very barren, first of all. They were very surprised by the geography of this place. They didn’t know what to do here after the fertile irrigated lands. They didn’t like it, they couldn’t accept it. There was no water, the land was barren. But then they started tobacco farming with government incentives.” Zühre answers.

From the 1930s until the 90s, Didim’s main source of income was tobacco farming. Until then, both tourism and tourists are dreams for these places. “But why tobacco?”

“Because, tobacco doesn’t require a lot of water,” says Zühre. “It doesn’t need water, it grows in barren soil. But it is very laborious, very difficult work. So it was our headache. Also, the state would buy our product, cheaply. We were sorry for our labour. We were among the rich here. I am from the Kamacı family. We had workers, we had animals, and then we had shops.

“Our situation was good. But there were also those who worked as labourers, who could barely live on the money they received from tobacco, and would buy something on hire purchase from the grocery store until it was time for tobacco.”

“How did you get rich?” “Only with work. My father was a man who overworked both his head and body. After coming to Turkey, he did his military service for 2 years. There he learned a lot of things to do business.

“When he came back to his family, he wanted to do business. When I say trade, he bought and sold little things. He invested in the land with the money he saved. Over time, he hired workers to grow tobacco, bought animals, and engaged in both agriculture and farming.

“He was very disciplined, very hardworking. So was I. I was the eldest daughter of the house. He would give me all the jobs, he would give me the men’s jobs as well as the tobacco planting. I was responsible for the windlasses. I would have done the work of two people faster by myself. When the day’s work was over, my night work would begin. I used to draw water from wells to get ready for the morning. I had siblings when I was a baby, I used to look after them at night.”

Aunt Zühre is the oldest of 9 children. She felt this responsibility on her shoulders too much. She was the one running everyone’s business. To her siblings, she became a mother where her mother missed something; to workers, she became a boss where her father lagged. She used to give her grandmother a bath, she would run to his grandfather’s wishes.

I was about to ask, “Wouldn’t you have gotten tired and rebelled”, she says immediately, “I would never have rebelled”. “Good thing I was born into that family. I learned to manage a business, and I never hesitated to do business. That way, I have things to leave for my children today, and I feel comfortable.”

You may have pictured Zühre Teyze as a suffering woman, but I should mention other aspects of her. She is a talkative and cheerful woman who loves to laugh and make people laugh. In Turkey, there is an event called “day” among women.

Everyone has a certain “day” when they will host other members of the group. They meet at regular intervals in someone’s house, treat, chat, whatever is desired… Zühre also had a “day group”. She proudly says, “If I don’t go, they cancel the day. They say, ‘Without you, the conversation has no taste, you entertain us’. I don’t hang out with old people either, young people all the time. They like my jokes, my talks.”

Then she suddenly brings the subject to her “first love”. “Can I write that in the news?” “Go ahead write it, I have no secrets from my husband. How many times have I told him this story! ‘I didn’t want to marry you at first,’ I told him ‘I was in love with someone else.’ ” “Who was this lover, Aunt Zühre?” “I don’t know… He was a vagrant. I realized later. I loved him earlier.”

“But what, what did you love about him?” “He had such a beautiful face, I must have loved that. But I told you, he was a vagrant. He later became an alcoholic and cheated on his wife. I thought I’m glad I married my husband. If they gave me a second life, I would still find my husband and marry him. I loved my husband very much after we got married.”

“Then, what did you love about your husband, how did you love him?” “When I married my husband, I went into a poor life. His family condition was bad. My husband was a hopeless man. But I gave him courage. I said I am a hard worker, and I would do anything.

“We did everything together. He believed in me too, he worked hard. Overcoming a challenge, trusting each other, never disrespecting each other… I loved him like that.”

“Are you happy, Aunt Zühre?” “I’m happy. We built ourselves a house. We invested in our children and grandchildren. Now my 4 daughters are married. We have 2 grandchildren from each daughter. They have happy marriages. My husband and I are also fine, thank goodness. I’m happy.”

I want to force Zühre a bit. “Forget everyone now. Think only of yourself, of your childhood, of your youth. Would you say I had a happy life?”

“I would.”

Not an enough answer for me. Maybe I’m looking for an answer for myself more than this article and I’m asking “What does happiness mean, Aunt Zühre?”

“Oh God, I don’t know what happiness means!” She’s taking a break here. She touches my arm. “Where did this question come from?” she asks by her gestures. Then I see a determination in her eyes. She starts speaking again.

“I worked, I laboured, I produced. My life partner also worked hard. We have put a lot of effort into our work and our relationship. After 57 years, we are still hand in hand with him. Happiness is this!” says.

“He wakes up first in the morning. He does not sleep again after the morning prayer. He goes down and prepares breakfast with eggs from the garden. He puts the olives we produce on the table. Then he calls out and says, “Mrs. Zühre, wake up, your breakfast is ready.” Some mornings I get coy, I say let me sleep. No, we’ll have breakfast together. Then he says every day, ‘If you die before me, what will I do, I will be destroyed’. We go down to the garden, I look at my flowers. He also finds a job there. I don’t know. Happiness is this.”