Being a minority in Istanbul starts with numbers.
It is not known whether there are 500 or 1000 Greeks left.
Jews 12-13 thousand.
Armenians are 50 thousand in and 50 thousand out.
Assyrians 6-7 thousand.
Together with others, we are not even 1 in a thousand in the population of this country.
We are a footnote in statistics.
But you are the main text in the memory of this city.
We are the diversity on the table of this country.
Sometimes appetizers, sometimes salads, sometimes entrees, sometimes couver...
But we were never considered the main course.
We were told as children:
“Don't say mama on the street, say mom.”
Even a word seemed too much.
One word was enough to make you “other”.
We are “giaour” here.
Just past Ipsala, “Turk.”
But this fact does not change:
The flagged passport is our honor.
We were born in this land, we produced, we invested, we provided employment.
We paid our taxes, we did our military service, we mourned, we carried our flag.
We showed our belonging not by shouting but by working.
Now it's Ramadan.
We are also in the Great Lent.
The calendars face the same sky.
Fasting is not only about fasting.
It is purification.
It is the purification of the mind, heart and tongue before the stomach.
It is to be free from prejudice, arrogance and discrimination.
Maybe this is what this country needs the most:
To stop seeing each other as “varieties” and see each other as equals.
Variety enriches the table.
Being equal strengthens the country.
This month, let's cleanse not only our stomachs but also our minds.
No hiding identities, no growing fears.
Because we are not guests of this country.
We are the owners of this house.
O Ramadan