The warmth of a teamaker I’m a mosque garden in Istambul

THE KUCUK AYASOFIYA mosque in the European side of Istanbul was once a Byzantine church (construction commenced in 527 AD). It was converted to a mosque after the Ottomans took over Istanbul. In front of the mosque, there is a square garden with a pavilion in its centre. The garden is enclosed on three sides by cloister-like arcades, which contain small shops, a religious institution, craftsmen’s workshops, and a small café.

From the first day we arrived in Istanbul – a Monday, we visited the peaceful garden every evening to relax and enjoy glasses of Turkish tea. The tea was made by a man in his sixties, called Yavuz.

We kept returning to the garden every evening not only because of the tea, but to greet Yavuz. He was the sort of person you have to like. Despite not being able to speak Turkish, we felt the warmth of his personality. After a couple of days, he began greeting us as if we had known him forever. When he walked past our table, he would pat our shoulders in a friendly manner. He was a person, whom you could not help liking. He was warm and genuine.

On the Sunday following our arrival, Yavuz was not at the café. Someone else made our tea. We imagined that it was Yavuz’s day off. On the next day, he was not there. Someone else, whom we had met earlier at the café and spoke good English, was at the café that Monday. We asked him where Yavuz was. He told us quietly:
“He is no more. He died of a heart attack at the café late on Saturday night.”

We must have seen him only a few hours before he died. Although we had known him for less than a week, we were heartbroken. We felt as if we had lost a close friend or a much-loved relative.

Sadly, I never took a photograph of dear Yavuz. As we expected to see him during the rest of our trip, I had planned to ask him for his permission to take his picture later on. Even without a photograph, Yavuz will occupy an honoured place in our memories.