“And I wish ”bwnpkins”, who ask “How much is one oka of the shad- ow?”, won’t stand in the way of Grand Bazaar to which it should proceed. It is up to you: Would you like to have a cultural identity or a label of ‘boorishness’?” Years ago in one of my articles, I explained that each person is given an identity as they are bom; and as the life goes on, the number of these identities !ike driving licenses, passes, passports or military licenses increase; the serial gets completed with the burial paper; however, after the burial, all these identities become worthless. And in the fallawing sentences of the same article I also said that there is such an identity called cultural identity, which does not have an official paper, however, if it is obtained, it can’t vanish even by death.
That was what I said at the time, and taday I insist on saying the same thing. And I express these with a different excitement upon meeting the Grand Bazaar on more time. As I said, the cultural identities can not be obtained from the official authorities. The way to obtain that identity is to perceive the events of not only taday, but the past, along with the morals of that past, and to multiply and preseı-ve tlıese moı·als. The ferment of this endeavor is the love of humanity and its natural outcome of respect to any kind of art, idea and labor, along with taking the possession of the past.
As a master painter architeer late Cihat Burak used to always tell the story of a rich man, who attempted to cut a sapiing because it was blocking the view of his new house. A man tells him that the sapling would grow and provide shodew The riche man replies how much is one oka of the shadow?” The master used to call the rich man “bumpkin” as he told this story. Frnm now nn, the Grand Bazaar is my home. ı love the Grand Bazaar so much. For me, that place is the monument of my past. I feel !ike an Ottoman there and I love this feeling very much. For the first time in my life 1 feel like 1 am taking steps towards having a cultunıl idenrily Eveıyday 1 am h;:n·ing ne”-· dre::ı.nıs and imagin::ıri.,n.< in the Grand Bazaar where I go with enthusiasm. I watch auctions and listen to music in Sandal Bedestan; I wander araund collective or individual art exhibitions in inner Cebeci Inn; I watch the craftsmen work in a workshop in Çukur Inn, I want to see a carpet museum, I am looking for a Grand Bazaar arehive and the more I look, the more I find myself. Without hesitating, I can proudly say to myself and everybody that my roots are Ottoman and my !and is Anatolia. I love the Grand Bazaar very much. And I wish “bumpkins”, who ask “How much is one oka of shadow?”, won’t stand in the way of Grand Bazaar to which it should proceed. It is up to you: Would you !ike to have a cultural identity or a label of ‘boorishness’?