One Ordinary Reminder of Many
From “Kebab Halabi,” by Selahattin Demirtaş (translated by Amy Marie Spangler and Kate Ferguson):
Number of dead: 68. Read it — sixty-eight.
It’s another day in the Middle East, Demirtaş reports. Ordinary. People going about their lives; conversing; eating; particularly you should try the specialty kebab at Hamdullah Usta’s place.
I can summarize the story, but you should also read Demirtaş tell it.
Hamdullah Usta ran this shabby restaurant that used to be patronized only by workers in the area. Then tourists started showing up, so he put some ugly, fake plastic trees out front to class up the place.
You probably could have heard the latest blast in Aleppo from there.
Sixty-eight people dead.
But the food’s still good, despite the trees. Demirtaş tells you too about Hamdullah Usta’s nephew, Bereket, who is great with the customers.
The restaurant serves affordable food. The kebab, as good as it is, doesn’t take your entire paycheck.
Hamdulla Usta was a good man. His life was a little lonely though. He once looked for love; he didn’t find it, so he stopped looking.
Sixty-eight murdered.
His loneliness, or his longing for past fancies — that’s why he spent so much time away from the solitude of home. He worked. He prayed, saying “Allahu Akbar” as he bent forward on his prayer mat. This kept his mind on the things that matter.
Demirtaş says Hamdulla Usta worked with other restaurants in the area to give his customers the best experience possible. Do you know about the cheese dessert, künefe? He had it brought from Cemil Usta’s shop next door when customers ordered it at his own place. Hamdulla Usta made a mean künefe himself, Demirtaş tells you, but it’s not as good as Cemil Usta’s. Why compete when you can cooperate?
Sixty-eight killed, Demirtaş lets you know again.
But the restaurants continue to serve delicious food with roots deep in earthly culture. Hatay Province, where Hamdulla Usta’s shop resides, is connected with the others in its market through thousands of years of food experiences. Many many generations have eaten what you can get there today.
Maybe watch your step, though. Demirtaş doesn’t say that, exactly…. I’m saying it. He reminds:
Number of dead: 68.
That was this time. It could be like that next time. You can expect something, anyway. The repetitiveness of ordinary life. Conversing. Eating. Prayer. Life laid to rubble.
Maybe you have the kebab if you didn’t try it before. And splurge for the künefe? Like Demirtaş points out, it’s not that expensive.
There’s nothing strange about this. Life is very long, Demirtaş says. You should find his telling of his story.