At times a tent, at other times a schoolyard, and occasionally a sewing workshop… The backdrop shifts, yet a constant companion to the conversation remains: Double-roasted Antakya coffee. Antakyan women draw strength and find solace in the “süvari (cavalry) coffee,” perhaps the sole unchanging element in lives reshaped by the earthquake, as they engage in coffee conversations.
This is a photo story crafted by Burcu Özkaya, one of the young journalists actively reporting from the earthquake-affected Antakya region, under the editorial guidance of Banu Güven.
Burcu Özkaya
In Antakya, sipping coffee is an essential part of daily life – so much so that if there’s a city in Turkey where the notion of living without coffee is inconceivable, it’s Antakya. Unlike the common Turkish tradition of having tea when visiting neighbors, after meals, or during conversations, Antakya residents don’t need any pretext to indulge in a cup of coffee.
Even after the earthquake, coffee retained its place as a crucial need for the people of Antakya, listed immediately after bread and water in their essential requirements. Today, despite limited resources, freshly ground Antakya coffee can be found in various parts of the city, with every tent equipped with the essentials for coffee brewing – coffee and a cezve (traditional coffee pot). Eight months post-earthquake, the pain in Antakya remains as fresh as it was on the initial day. Women seek solace in coffee and conversation, using this ritual to somewhat ease their sorrows.
Antakyans, who steer clear of packaged coffee, opt for a distinctive style of coffee consumption – not in the conventional cup but in a tea glass. This unique method, referred to as “süvari (cavalry) coffee,” is known to have gained popularity during the 1970s when the import of coffee beans was prohibited.
Onur Sahilli, the son of Züheyr Sahilli, owner of the renowned Affan Kahvesi, sheds light on why Antakyans have adopted the practice of drinking coffee in tea glasses. He recounts, “Back in the 1970s, when Bülent Ecevit prohibited the sale of coffee, there were frequent raids on coffeehouses by security forces. My father used to discreetly stash the coffee in small pouches in his apron. To avoid attracting attention to the cup, they would serve the coffee in tea glasses. During a raid, if my father claimed, ‘Customers bring it from home,’ there was no legal basis for action. Subsequently, customers became accustomed to the tea glass, and the act of drinking coffee from a tea glass started to feel more enjoyable.”
Not every Antakyan is familiar with this narrative. When asked why they opt for a tea glass over a coffee cup, they often cite that a coffee cup seems insufficient. They explain their preference for the tea glass, emphasizing its larger volume capacity and ease of consumption.
Double-roasted Antakya coffee leaves a robust flavor on the palate. Coffee sales are typically categorized as “light, medium, dark.” Dark coffee, akin to Urfa’s famous mırra coffee, boasts a slightly bitter undertone. Antakyans predominantly favor medium coffee. Should you seek to order “light coffee” from a coffee shop in Antakya, you’re likely to be met with the question, “Where are you from?”
The Kırkyama Sewing Workshop, founded in the aftermath of the earthquake, has become a place where women affected by the disaster not only learned sewing but now also accept orders from beyond the city. Women who enthusiastically attend the workshop say that working there provides a momentary escape from the memory of the earthquake. When these women feel fatigued from sewing during the day, they take coffee breaks to refresh and rejuvenate.
A portion of Antakya’s Dağ neighborhood crumbled in the earthquake. Meryem and Emine Yeter, daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, found their homes destroyed. Emine shares that they haven’t left Antakya and have been residing in a tent for eight months, noting, “Those with means left, but we lack both funds and an alternative place like Antakya.” Meryem, the daughter-in-law, mentions spending time at a table in front of the tent during the day due to its warmth. She expresses concern about the upcoming winter. Emine, the mother-in-law, calmly states, “Everything will unfold as it’s meant to.”
In Antakya, alongside the official AFAD tent-container areas, there are several unofficial container sites. One such area, established in Çekmece Mahallesi of the Defne District with support from the Disaster and Solidarity Association and local residents, hosts an open-air cinema every week. The screenings attract not only residents of the container area but also people from Antakya who come from outside. Aylin Ay, attending the open-air cinema, asserts, “Watching a film without Antakya coffee is unthinkable.”
The residents of the Defne district opted against relocating to official tent cities. Instead, they erected tents on vacant lots near their homes or on the ruins of their collapsed houses. Three sisters-in-law, who used to live in the same building before the earthquake, set up their tents side by side after the disaster. These women spend their days together but retreat to their individual tents to sleep at night. Nearly all of them have experienced significant losses in their families. Having endured eight months in tents, these women find comfort in coffee as they contemplate their next steps with the onset of rain.
Neslihan Yıldırım, a resident of Subaşı village in Defne, works as an agricultural laborer. Pregnant during the earthquake, Neslihan went to Ankara two days later to give birth. Upon returning to Antakya with her baby, she set up a tent in front of their severely damaged home. Neslihan, along with her two children and her parents, began living in the tent. Using the kitchen of their heavily damaged home awaiting demolition, Neslihan prepares evening coffee for her family.
Seda Görüroğlu, living in Uğur Mumcu neighborhood in Defne, spends her entire day in the tent with her son and husband, managing meals, caring for the children, and tidying up the surroundings. Seda, who acknowledges feeling quite exhausted by the end of the day, unwinds in the evening by having coffee with her husband.
Hediye Dede, a 93-year-old, used to live with her son before the earthquake. When her son’s house collapsed in the earthquake, they began living in a tent set up in their relatives’ gardens. Hediye Dede, who sits in the tent during the day in the garden where other family members have also set up tents, used to drink four coffees a day when she was young but has now reduced it to two. Living in a single-person camping tent, Hediye Dede, who struggles to go to the restroom, expresses discomfort, stating that her tent leaks.
In Antakya, where public transportation is scarce, students, parents, and teachers are facing significant challenges. Parents whose children attend Cemil Şükrü Çolakoğlu School in the Sümerler neighborhood wait for the school day to end instead of going home, as buses pass by only every two hours. Parents dropping off their children around noon stay on the school premises until 4:00 PM due to the infrequent bus schedule. Bringing chairs and thermos flasks with coffee, these parents engage in conversations about their children, the city, and dinner plans, all accompanied by coffee.
Antakya’s historic Uzun Çarşı. A mother, daughter, and granddaughter take a coffee break. The earthquake-affected family reveals that their house in Saraykent Mahallesi collapsed. Initially, they moved out of the city for a while, but the longing for Antakya drew them back, prompting their return.
Esmahan Kavuk, from Çekmece Mahallesi in Defne, saw her house collapse in the earthquake. Eager to begin the construction of a new home before the rains come, Esmahan, expresses her concern over the high prices of construction materials while enjoying her coffee.
Sixteen-year-old Pelin Bayram lives in a tent with her parents and relatives, and while Pelin is making coffee for her mother and aunts…
In Defne’s Uğur Mumcu district, you’ll find the disaster and solidarity association’s cafeteria. Local women volunteer in the community kitchen, and after finishing their tasks, they take a break with a cup of coffee.
Now, Antakya’s renowned Affan Kahvesi. Prior to the earthquake, Affan Kahvesi stood on the historic Kurtuluş Street, constructed in 1911 by French architects and stone craftsmen from Aleppo. The building, damaged in the earthquake, is undergoing a repair expected to take up to five years. Affan Kahvesi resumed service two months after the earthquake in Aşağıokçular Mahallesi. The new Affan Kahvesi, constructed from containers, also features a display of photographs showcasing the venue’s history.