Befriending Turkish Grandparents Who’s Family Is Featured in a 1958 National Geographic Magazine

Traveling around Turkey with two strangers & making friends with locals

Seher and Memduh holding a copy of a 1958 National Geographic Magazine where their family’s photo is featured. Notice it’s the same photo hanging on their shelf on the top left. Memduh stumbled upon the magazine only to notice it was the photo of his grandparents and Seher’s grandparents back in the 1950’s.

There’s not an exact recipe for how to connect with locals in a foreign country in a foreign tongue. But there is one indispensable ingredient. Attitude.

There’s no other way to describe it. People feel energy. People can feel our openness to have a conversation. Even without words, eyes do the talking. Smiles confirm the trust. Laughter creates bonds.

In the previous post, I shared the story of how I ended up having coffee with two Turkish grandparents in a small town in the middle of the Cappadocia region in Turkey. This is the continuation of that story.

The sun was sinking like a hot gold disc swallowed by the horizon when I walked into their shop. By the time we finished our coffee and conversation, the evening air was chilly and dark blue. I got in my rental car and drove thirty minutes back to Göreme where I was staying.

The sky was inky black and dotted with stars by the time I walked into my hostel room. My friend Nicole was there, leaning next to the bunk beds and laughing with her bunkmate.

This was only the second time I had seen Nicole. We had met for the first time in Paris just four days prior at a “Yes Fam” meetup (Yes Fam is what the Yes Theory community is called). Twenty of us had gathered at a park on a sunny Saturday afternoon. I was the only one in town visiting, and everyone else lived in Paris.

If there’s one thing you should know about Yes Fam, is that it’s some of the most genuine wholesome people you will ever meet. What’s beautiful is that everyone is so different. Different cultures, languages, professions, hobbies, and ages— yet everyone shares a common denominator.

We feel different. We all seem to be somewhat misfits from “regular” societal norms. For the most part, we all constantly challenge ourselves out of our comfort zones. We easily turn strangers into friends. We embrace spontaneity. We inexplicably experience the magic of life— those moments others label as luck or coincidence— we know they are something else.

Sometimes we feel lonely that those around us don’t seem to “get it”. Whatever “it” is. But we know that Yes Fam gets it. It’s why it’s so easy to befriend Yes Fam people despite having never met before. It’s like we share some unspoken energy.

Want to go to Turkey?

At the park, the conversation came up about where my next destination was. “I’m going to Turkey in three days,” I said. “If anyone wants to come, you’re welcome to join.”

To any other group of people, that last invitation would have been chuckled at and passed as a bit of a joke. The chances of someone saying yes would be slim to none. But not with Yes Fam.

Someone named Nicole walked up to me as I was leaving. “Were you serious about anyone joining you in Turkey?” She asked. “Because if so, I am down.”

A few days later, we were both in Turkey laughing at the fact that we didn’t even know each other yet found ourselves embarking on an adventure as if we had been long-time friends who planned this trip months ago.

We stood there talking when someone in a red dress around our age peeked behind my shoulder and joined the conversation very enthusiastically. “Hi! I’m Rhianna,” she said with an Australian accent.

The three of us would spend the next three days together roaming Cappadocia in my little rental car. After road-tripping to the underground mysterious city of Derinkuyu (an ancient cave city 18 stories below the ground), we stopped in Uçhisar. I wanted to take Nicole and Rhianna to the antique store to meet the grandparents.

Introducing the Turkish Grandparents

When we arrived, however, the grandparents were nowhere to be seen. In their place was a stout middle-aged man with blue eyes. He smiled at us as we walked through the treasure rooms filled to the brink with glittering mystery objects. I was about to ask where Seher was, when she suddenly as if on cue, entered the room. She recognized me and her face lit up with a big smile.

The man in the shop turns out to be her son, and he speaks English quite well. We all start chatting and my eyes get drawn to a shelf where a few copper Turkish coffee pots sit. I hadn’t seen those when I came in yesterday. I picked one up and so did Nicole. Rhianna picked up an antique alarm clock.

We asked Seher for the prices but she said her husband, Memduh, was the one who knew, but he had gone to pray at the mosque. We agreed we’d take a little walk around town and then come back later when he returned.

We returned an hour later, but he still hadn’t returned, so we kept talking with Seher and her son. He told us a bit of the story of the antique store, how it had been the family home for generations until his father turned it into an antique store. I don’t remember the son’s name, but we went around the store and he explained what some of the mystery objects were.

Memduh came back. He was smiling, delighted in surprise to see me again and see that I had brought company. Instead of telling us the prices for the things we wanted to buy, he gestured to follow him.

Coffee in a Cave

We walked through the treasure room, through the smaller dark treasure rooms, and he disappeared behind a hanging curtain. Unsure if we were to follow him, my friends and I exchanged glances. Then his head popped out from the curtain and he motioned for us to follow him.

The room was a cave. The famous volcanic ash-carved caves Cappadocia is known for. But unlike the other ones we had seen that were abandoned, this one was still full of life.

The entire room was carved of ash. Floor, walls, ceiling. No windows. We were deep within the interior of a mountain. Beautiful ornate rugs hung on the walls, floor, and on the ceiling. A single Egyptian Eye of Ra painted on authentic papyrus hung from the wall and made eye contact with me.

Seher fired up a little stove in the corner and started making coffee. Her husband motioned that he had to go back out to the store room but he’d be back later. Their son signaled to us to sit down.

We made ourselves comfortable on the floor cushions that surrounded the low table. Sitting criss-crossed the three of us and the son, jumped into conversation. Nicole, Rhianna, and I had many questions for them.

We learned that up until the 1960’s the caves had been occupied by people. Their family lived in this one until they turned it into a store. We learned about the history of the region— the Muslims, the Christians, the wars, the myths. We witnessed from them the pillars of hospitality and kindness.

The Magazine

When it was time to leave, we purchased our mementos and gave hugs all around. Grandpa Memduh then held up a hand and said to wait. He disappeared again, this time to a far corner of the store to some wooden cabinet. After shuffling around with folders and papers, he reemerged hugging something to his chest.

It was a yellow National Geographic magazine. The edges were a little worn but otherwise, it was perfect. The date on the cover was 1958.

He flipped through the pages until he came to a stop at a big black and white spread with the cursive spelling of Cappadocia: Turkey’s Country of Cones written at the bottom.

Gently, not wanting to cause any unnecessary wear and tear to the magazine, he flipped to a page bearing another black and white photo. He looked up at us and smiled proudly.

It was the same photo that hung on the top of their shelf in the antique store. The one a National Geographic photographer had taken back in 1957 of his and Seher’s grandparents sharing a meal. But here it was, in a magazine.

His sense of pride in showing the photo spread was immense. He said that somehow he came randomly across the photo in the magazine years ago. He hadn’t known his family’s photo had ended up in a magazine, much less National Geographic, until one day he was just paging from an edition and stumbled across it.

Now that’s the magic of life. (keep reading…)

Turkish Treasure in Texas

On a hot wind-less day in early September, I walked sweatily to my mailbox in Austin, Texas. A package was sticking out. Inside, was the 1958 edition of a National Geographic magazine. Thanks to eBay and old magazine collectors, I’d found and bought it.

I’ve tried contacting Seher and Memduh, but haven’t had any luck. I tried their WhatsApp number, and Instagram DM to their store account, but no luck. I want to send them prints of the photos I took of them. I want to send them a photo of me in Texas holding a copy of the magazine. If you find yourself going to Cappadocia, to Uçhisar, let me know. You must visit this antique store.

This experience of meeting Seher, Memduh, and their son, was something my friends and I hadn’t expected. But it’s these unexpected deep connections, that mean the most. The moments may be fleeting and short but are meaningful.

There’s a Japanese saying that would apply to this situation. Ichi-go Ichi-e. It means treasuring the unrepeatable nature of a moment. It means something like, “for this time only” or “once in a lifetime.” Perhaps that’s what this encounter with these people was. Unrepeatable. But forever repeatable in our memories.