Abstract
Studies of Turkish consumption reveal a unique character that rests on local interpretations of modernity and patterns of hybridization between local and global and traditional and modern. This research explores how deep-rooted cultural continuities manifest themselves in collective identity and how men from urban Urfa (a southeastern Turkish city) redefine the boundaries between public and private, and traditional and modern, through ritualistic leisure consumption within the context of the oda (room). The findings of the present socio-historically grounded analysis of urban oda communities and their consumption practices reveal that men from urban Urfa, as modern subjects, appropriated and re-contextualized traditional practices. Ritualistic consumption practices of or in urban odas reveal continuities with traditional ahi-order, selamlik and sira night practices. The findings also show that the oda, as a private and mahrem sphere, functions in accordance with the Habermasian model of the bourgeois public sphere, where politics and society meet.
Introduction
Modernity arose in opposition to tradition, emphasizing science and rational mastery, rather than religion and faith. However, as Giddens (1984) points out, although the transformations involved in modernity reveal a remarkable set of discontinuities, even in the most modernized societies, tradition continues to play a role. Despite the envisioned rational organization of the social world based on ruptures with tradition, in modern times, continuities between the traditional and the modern still exist. Traditions are reflexively appropriated and contextualized as alternative sources of knowledge in the modern world. The Turkish experience, as a particular model of modernity, presents a rich context in which such continuities and discontinuities can be observed. Modernization programs based on multiple institutional, socio-historical and ideological patterns can be read as diverse interpretations and trajectories of modernization, in line with remarks by Eisenstadt (1999, 2000) and works and commentary from numerous scholars on the Turkish experience (Göle 2003; Hart 2007; Kaya 2003; Karababa and Ger 2011; Sandikci and Ger 2010; Wagner 2010). This is in contrast to the view of modernity as a universally applicable formula based on a Western project and a totalizing epoch that insists on radical departure from traditions and judging alternative representations as by-products.
Considering the state-induced modernization project that comprises the Western model and the principle of secularism within the context of Islam, Turkish modernity has been regarded as a unique case (Gellner 1997; Göle 2003). The Turkish experience of modernization can be traced back to the second half of the nineteenth century when the Ottoman Empire undertook modernization reforms (known as the Tanzimat), partly under Western European pressure. The Young Ottomans attempted to interpret Ottoman modernization and Westernization in terms of Islamic principles (Gülalp 1997; Mardin 1997). Following the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, the Turkish War of Independence, and consequent foundation of a secular nation-state by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in 1923, Westernized modernization efforts were induced by state and political/cultural elites (Keyman and Koyuncu 2005). Turkey’s modernization process involved complexities for several reasons (Göle 2003; Keyder 1997; Sancar 2012; Sandikci and Ger 2002; Vojdik 2010). First, although Turkish people fought against Western colonizers, the Western model of modernity was adopted. Second, the legitimacy of the Western and secular modernization project was built upon the negation of an Ottoman past. Third, unlike Western models, in which modernization was experienced as a self-generating societal process, the modernization project was implemented from above by the state. Fourth, the secular regime shifted the practice of Islam to the private sphere and kept all religious structures and institutions in the public sphere under state-control. The Turkish modernism project was based on construction of gendered identities where women were identified as public citizens with civil rights and corporeal visibility in the public sphere. Social intermixture of men and women was also one of the main principles of the project (Göle 1997). Despite its complexities and ambivalences, the Turkish modernity project had successes in many areas including education, law, social life, family life, identity of women, clothing and the arts. On the other hand, beginning in the 1980s, with the penetration of Islam into the public sphere, as Göle (2002) remarks, ideologies in regard to gender, body, and space diffused to the collective self and common space, are distinct from the Western liberal self. Based on complex socio-cultural dynamics and the contentious history of modernization, contemporary Turkish society is characterized by many diverse cultural fragments (Kandiyoti 2002), patterns of hybridization and varieties in mentalities, lifestyles, identities and consumption behaviors (Keyman and Koyuncu 2005; Sandikci and Ger 2002).
Studies of the Turkish case reveal its unique character, resting on local interpretations of modernity and patterns of difference, hybridization, and undecidability between local and global, particular and universal, traditional and modern (Göle 1997, 2003; Hart 2007; Sandikci and Ger 2002; Sandikci and Ilhan 2004). Despite intensive study by several scholars (Ayata 2002; Öncü 1997, 2002; Sandikci and Ger 2005; Sandikci, Ekici, and Tari 2006; Ustuner and Holt 2007), the main focus has been on Western/urban consumptionscapes and sociological dynamics of Turkey, in contrast to the relatively less modernized east and rural areas. However, we suggest that the Turkish modernization project did not emerge homogenously throughout Turkey; east and west and urban and rural places have diverse trajectories. Bozdoğan and Kasaba (1997, p. 13) contend that there has been a failure to fully understand the Turkish experience of modernity due to “oversimplification not only by the smooth trajectories and universally defined models of modernization theories but also by some of the more recent antimodern (“return to tradition”) and postmodern (“global theme park”) approaches.” An alternative way to understand how Turkish consumers read, comprehend and experience modernity in everyday life requires a multifaceted interpretation of diverse consumptionscapes with particular attention to continuities, as well as shifts within a historical framework. In her attempt to read fragments of Turkish culture Kandiyoti (2002) stated that the binaries of global/local now displace modern/traditional. However, to understand the Turkish case, we also need a level of analytical rigor whereby binary oppositions need to be analyzed and criticized in all their manifestations to understand their difference, interplay, and undecidability (Derrida 1981). Unlike more modernized parts of the world, we can still observe difference, interplay, and undecidability between modern and traditional in eastern Turkey; even though some are maintained intact, traditions encountering the modern are reflexively appropriated and contextualized as alternative sources of knowledge.
This study attempts to investigate the Turkish experience of modernity in a city in southeastern Turkey, Şanliurfa or, simply, Urfa. There have been relatively few systematic analyses of consumptionscapes in eastern Turkey with a particular emphasis on space and place in order to understand how traditions are reflexively appropriated and contextualized as alternative sources of knowledge. We propose that an analysis of consumptionscapes in eastern Turkey, through the lens of modernity and with a focus on socio-historical continuities and discontinuities, may potentially contribute to the epistemic terrain of multiple modernities.
Odas in (Şanlı)Urfa
Şanliurfa, one of the oldest cities of Mesopotamia, is located in Turkey’s southeastern region. Although the title Şanli (glorious) was bestowed to the city in 1984, changing the name to Şanliurfa, due to the courage of the local population in the War of Independence, local people (Urfalı) continue to use the name Urfa out of habit. Spirituality, religious values, and conservativeness form the daily practices of Urfalı. In addition to low levels of income and education, Urfalıs remain relatively unreceptive to other cultures, and acceptance of change is slow. Feudalism continues to exist in many parts of the region. In some districts there are aşirets, (feudal tribes) consisting of a number of families or other groups who share a common ancestry, kinship and culture, among whom, leadership is typically held by one family. Until the 1920s, Urfa was a polyglot town with thriving Muslim, Armenian, Syriac, and Jewish communities; yet, today all the inhabitants, whether Arab, Turk or Kurd, are overwhelmingly Muslim (Öktem 2004). Kurds and Arabs tend to cluster in rural areas while Turks live mostly in the city center. However, in surrounding districts and villages, migration to the city has increased, due to the increasing wealth of the landlords, who benefit from agricultural development programs, particularly the Southeastern Anatolia Project (GAP) and the Atatürk dam. Conflict between separatist Kurds and state forces has also accelerated migration.
This study is an investigation of the oda (room) culture in Urfa, using grounded theory method (Fischer and Otnes 2006; Glaser and Strauss 1967) with a focus on the continuities and discontinuities between modernity and tradition. Odas are the preserves of masculinity occupied by men who reside in urban Urfa from birth or from a young age. The oda, refers to the place that oda members rent or buy as a place for gathering, but also refers to a specific community of men. Oda is a practiced place, a space (De Certeau 2002). The specific places (rooms) are transformed into a space, for example, as a place constituted by the system of signs inscribed by the community members and marketplace. This current study focuses on how space becomes active due to interaction between space (oda) and performers (oda community and members), consumption objects, audiences (other marketplace actors), and socio-historical context.
In rural Urfa, oda mostly refers to the domain of a feudal tribe, the aşiret. The men of each aşiret have their own quarters, also called oda, as the dwelling of the aşiret leader. Membership rests on kinship; men of particular kin are natural members of the oda. They have no agency in decision making to belong to the community or to develop a member identity, in other words, they are not actors who are free to choose whether to be a member or not. Landlords hold the leadership role. The identities and roles are given, stable and unchanging. Even the individual’s most basic practices are determined by the aşiret. The aşiret oda is used in a similar way to the selamlik which refers to the section of a Muslim Ottoman house allocated to men, common throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (Tanyeli and Gerçek 2013). As Ozbay (1999) explains, at that time, a selamlik was the men’s living space in which their daily activities were conducted in the absence of women and children. This well-furnished and well-maintained area was also used for entertaining male visitors. Women were allowed access only to carry out domestic service in the absence of men.
In urban Urfa, the term oda refers to a men’s community of practice (Wenger 1998; Wenger and Snyder 2000) in which members socially are able to construct, negotiate, and communicate a community identity and collective ways of understanding the world, in addition to their self-identities and life trajectories. The present study pays particular attention to urban oda communities. We propose that, in urban Urfa, oda practices and identity constitute forms of socio-historical continuities and discontinuities that arise out of the interplay between traditional and modern practices. With the erosion of traditional and historical forms of identity (Shankar, Elliott, and Fitchett 2009) men from Urfa construct, maintain and communicate their modern identity partly by using traditions and traditional social forms. To better capture the dynamics of the reflexive appropriation of traditions, this study focuses on both continuities and discontinuities. However, in so doing, we run a risk that ruptures may be masked by an exclusive focus on continuities. To avoid this risk, it is important to recognize the main socio-historical rupture, the dissolution of the feudal aşiret system in urban Urfa. We contend that a study of male urban Urfalı communities and ritualistic consumption practices of and at the oda may reveal clear continuities with traditional institutions and practices. This study therefore attempts to explore (1) how deep-rooted cultural continuities manifest themselves in collective identities and how these shape the construction and functioning of social institutions in urban Urfa (Schmidt 2010) and (2) how men in urban Urfa have been able to redefine boundaries between the public and the private and the traditional and the modern through ritualistic leisure consumption within the context of oda.
Methodology
For purposes of this explorative study, data were primarily collected through 15 in-depth interviews. These interviews were conducted, recorded and transcribed by the second author, a female native Urfalı. Although odas are exclusively men’s communities, her understanding of oda practices and culture is due to her upbringing in Urfa in a household inclusive of oda members. Finding informants willing to talk about their oda experiences was a difficult challenge for a female interviewer. Urfa has a strict masculine culture. At first, informants were unwilling to engage in direct communication with a woman at home or in cafés. A purposive and snowball sampling method was used and the interviewer’s family connections made it possible to contact the first informant who was less reluctant to talk to a female researcher about the private oda community and practices. Other informants with the necessary communication skills and extensive oda experience were recruited from among his acquaintances. Unstructured interviews with open-ended questions were conducted on a formal basis in locations where the interviewees felt comfortable. The lead author translated the interview extracts, which were checked by the second author. To avoid the risk of incomplete data regarding intimate and profane practices and to ensure authenticity, a trained male interviewer also conducted follow-up interviews with informants. Since women are not allowed to enter the oda, on-site observation or participation was not possible. Additional data was collected via a visual archive consisting of videos and pictures of usual oda meetings taken by informants themselves.
Interviews, visual data and field notes were analyzed in an iterative process. First, the authors independently interpreted the findings, identified key themes and proposed theoretical explanations. Through an iterative negotiation process, the authors attempted to interpret the data in a way that reflected its meaning. To ensure credibility, the views of men from different age groups and occupations were sought. Negative case analysis included non-native participants who may have experiences and/or viewpoints that do not support or appear to contradict patterns or explanations that emerge from data analysis (Glaser and Strauss 1967). To validate accuracy of the findings, a member checking procedure was used at the conclusion of the study, in which all the findings were shared with three informants who agreed to be contacted for their additional comments.
A demographic profile of the informants appears in Table 1. Informants were mainly from middle-high income level, since oda communities include men who are able to bear the cost of maintaining both a house or flat and oda activities. All members willing to reflect on their experiences had at least high-school level education.
Demographic Profile of Informants.
Urban Oda: A Traditional or Modern Community Practice?
It is common practice for groups of men from Urfa with similar economic status, education, and age, and who share similar worldviews, life trajectories, and long-lasting friendships, to build small communities and gather most evenings to enjoy companionship, local food, and drink. They do this in specific locations, which can be flats, traditional houses, and even caves in the mountains. A deeply rooted masculine culture, they prefer male to female company, as informants explained. They typically spend at least two evenings a week away from their families at their community premises. “Urfa has a patriarchic culture. Men like to have social relations and spend time with men. It will evolve away eventually; it is a bad tradition” (CA, 34). “In our traditional Urfa, men over fifty, men who tour sira [nights] and oda members can’t even take a walk with their wives. It’s totally impossible, you know” (SK, 56). “Why does my sister’s husband prefer oda? Perhaps, he doesn’t have any social relations with my sister. He has a better time with men, possibly. Or he has nothing else to do” (NS, 28).
Oda, as embodied in sira nights, can be seen as an institutionalized practice in which men build their communities and social networks. The following quote indicates, that as size of the group increases and commitments to the group grow, they embark on the process of community building in premises designated for this purpose. They are committed to their community, mutually sharing and engaging with it. Sira night customs continue after initiating an oda. At the oda, members continue to host the community in turn, with members taking turns to buy supplies, prepare food and drink and keep the place clean. Provided that members have enough income, a male servant can be hired to perform tasks such as shopping, housekeeping, cooking and serving the meal. “Oda has grown out of old, traditional practices. Before establishing oda, you go on a tour of sira first… generally men between the age of twenty-five and thirty… After that, you can’t stand crowded flats; rooms are small, serving food and drink becomes difficult [for the family of the host], you need more intimacy… Then you keep your own oda. By the way, even when the group gets bigger, not everybody needs an oda” (SK, 56). “Developing mutual thoughts, conversing, discussing, joint decision-making, consulting… If you have life styles similar to someone… You should befriend and trust people that you find close, sincere. You can share, discuss your concerns and ask for others’ contributions and their valuable ideas… Women gather with other women, as well. But, men’s oda gatherings are more effective; societal decisions can be made. Thoughts about the next day’s activities can be discussed and taken into action. Women only chat” (SK, 56). “Oda practices can be modern to the extent that they keep pace with the new era. A variety of men can be involved. There are various domains. For example, in our thirty-year-old oda, we divided into two groups and organized general knowledge contests. Topics ranged from daily news, politics to science. Groups developed multiple-choice questions and the other group answered. There are also odas where men gossip and chat” (SD, 59). “Oda culture is a unique culture. It originates from old Urfa customs, culture, manners, and morale… It’s a lifestyle that indicates progression of all these customs” (ŞŞ, 52). “There are members and a leader whose members collectively opt for. A member can choose to run for the leadership or can be nominated by others. There are hardly ever two nominees. When somebody is nominated, then he will be chosen. Purchase, consumption, or other decisions are also made in that manner. When members have needs and wants, they inform the leader. Members do market research on brands, stores, prices and the leader organizes a poll, collects money and manages the purchase” (MK, 27). “When you engage with an oda, you have to dedicate yourself to oda and limit your family life or daily practices. You can never make other plans for Wednesday and Saturday evenings. Oda rules are set in the beginning. No one can arrive later than seven p.m. At seven o’clock, the dinner table has to be ready. If someone wants to bring a guest, he has to ask for the leader’s permission a few days before” (SK, 56). “I meet you one day, and someone else the next day. That’s not it. There’s no continuity. The oda needs suffering and exertion. Sometimes members quarrel. When a person says, “I’m leaving” others stop him. Next week that person says, ‘I should punish myself because I was wrong. I won’t attend the meeting today.’ But all this needs effort, respect and exertion. Without this there is no depth” (EA, 33). “We are closer than brothers. One of the members can hold the position of kirve [best man, godfather] at your wedding. They are there at good and bad times” (MK, 27). “When two men are members of the same oda, in our culture, it means they have chosen to share a common fate and walk the same path, and they can’t fall out easily. It’s not just like being roommates; you can’t say on your second meeting ‘let’s keep an oda’” (CI, 29). “To dismiss a member, his shoes are hidden; it means, ‘don’t come back.’ He has to go home barefoot. In the ahi-order, when an artisan produced a defective product, he would have been given a warning. At the end of the day, all artisans gathered at the dervish lodge and threw his shoes on the roof of the building. Once, we dismissed a man. Four months later, a member ran into him and learned the man continued to leave home on meeting evenings, telling his family that he was going to oda, but instead, he wandered around crying. There’s social pressure. He can’t admit he was dismissed, for in doing so, he also would be saying, ‘I’m characterless’” (CA, 34). “[Practices] change from oda to oda. It depends upon members’ characters and age. Once, when we were young, we liked to drink alcohol and we did that. At other times, we liked to play cards, so we played King, Bridge, and Backgammon. Even our domain has changed over time. When we were young we discussed politics and thought that we could save Turkey. Later, we learned that it’s not our business” (MB, 45). “Our elders lived oda life. When they gathered, we children also joined them and listened to their conversations and learned manners and customs. Oda’s a school, indeed” (AÇ, 57). “My oda friends are well-educated men. I can learn from every word they speak. You gather and gather. Eventually after five months you become a different man” (EA, 33). “Oda is an identity. Urfa is a small city where extreme behaviors are seen as immoral. We are twelve people now, each of us is known to the others and that [kind of behavior] binds us, as well. That’s why everyone has to watch out for these kind of things” (MB, 45).
I am Urfalı since Eternity (Urfalıyam Ezelden): Cultural Boundaries between Urfalı and Aşayir
Harrison (1999, p. 19) defines cultural boundaries as “demarcating the bodies of symbolic practices which these collectivities attribute to themselves in seeking to differentiate themselves from each other expressively.” In Urfa, people originating from or brought up in urban Urfa identify themselves as Urfalı, while the people from villages in the district including recent migrants from the villages to urban Urfa are regarded as aşayir, that is, people who belong to an aşiret (tribe). Even though aşayirs are natives of rural Urfa, they are not seen as authentic Urfalı. Due to the developing economy, villagers have achieved a certain level of affluence for various reasons including smuggling, illegal drug sales, and acting as security forces for the government against terrorists. Urfalı also regard aşayirs as nouveau riche. In return, aşayirs call Urfalı isotçu, a term used to signify “man of leisure,” fond of eating, comfort and ease. The term derives from isot, a kind of hot pepper special to Urfa. In so doing, they construct cultural boundaries by drawing distinctions between two groups, to set limitations on shared understandings and restrict interaction. Urfalıs are preoccupied with the perceived pollution of their identity and culture by aşayirs and believe that to be worthy of the title “Urfalı”, one has to be born in the city, rather than as late arrivals to the city. By constructing their oda as a private place and space, Urfalıs attempt to maintain their culture and protect their identity from being “polluted.” In general, aşayirs are not allowed to join the oda. Only those who have lived in Urfa for many years and have developed an Urfalı identity are regarded as legitimate candidates. The oda initiatives among aşayirs themselves are seen as imitations, despite the fact that the concept of oda is in fact derived from feudal aşiret relations and practices. Thus, current oda practices in urban Urfa reveal ruptures in traditional community relations, structures and practices. By defining the other, in this case the aşayir and marking their oda communities as inauthentic, oda members “defend themselves against attacks that threaten their autonomy” (Touraine 2007). “Natives criticize aşayirs for ruining them. [Through the separation of members from others] odas create a sphere of influence on its own terms. Urfalı people are so conservative in being Urfalı (CA, 34).” “Oda’s a place, after all… You feel happy when you head there; your friends are there. There are no fish restaurants or premium café in Urfa, so you visit oda when you feel like it. You can behave as if you were in a café in Istanbul” (MY, 33).
Consuming Place: Oda as Modern Selamlik
Massey (1994) argues that place is constructed out of a particular network of social relations, meeting and weaving together at a particular locus. Oda, as a place, is central to many aspects of members’ thought, behavior and relations. Using Agnew’s (2011) framework, oda can be analyzed by using concepts of location, locale and a sense of place. Although it is named after a place, oda is much more. Oda symbolizes a particular place with which the oda community identify themselves. Oda provide a sense of belonging, where members can “find their own place on earth”, both physically and psychologically, by connecting the past with the present and the traditional with the modern.
Odas are located mostly in the old town area of Urfa in apartments or in caves in the summer, but preferably in old hayatli houses (Figure 1) with traditional architecture, including a stone-paved patio with an open roof. In addition to providing a spacious place, ensured comfort in a hot climate, hayatli houses provide a sense of tradition and continuity. Accordingly, the oda is modestly decorated in oriental style with mattresses, cushions and rugs implying continuity with the past (Figure 2). Similar to “Mountain Men”, a consumption community studied by Belk and Costa (1998), oda members consume place and space to generate feelings of community involving a concern for maintaining authenticity in recreating the past. A Hayatli house in Şanliurfa, eastern Turkey. Photography by Ayşe Karaçizmeli Güzeler, 2015. Inside an Oda in Şanliurfa, eastern Turkey. Photography by an informant, 2015, with permission. “Oda community used to meet in rooms in old inns, that’s why we call it oda [room]… Men with increasing affluence now buy or rent a hayatli house and continue the tradition” (AK, 57). “Oda culture can be revived in old hayatli houses. The ones who know and internalize this culture are old Urfalı. Migrants from villages to Urfa can’t understand that culture somehow” (VG, 28). “We used to live in hayatli houses during childhood. Everything changed. Now we live in flats. We long for the old times… our children can’t experience that… Thus, we prefer oriental style houses where we can spread out” (AÇ, 57). “We grew up in a traditional society. Now, we live a modern life. Human relations have changed. Traditional human relations and contacts were more sincere. Face-to-face communication has deteriorated. People see each other every three months. In a traditional structure, they used to see each other every day and share their lives… Oda is a traditional structure” (SK, 57). “Between closed walls, you can live more in a more manly way… the environment doesn’t restrict you. You don’t posture to the girl at the next table” (NS, 28). “I think it stems from our need for mahremiyet. In our culture, people don’t want to have their mahremiyet exposed to others gaze. Secondly, you have a family life at home. Imagine, that you gather with your friends two or three times a week. There’s a subtle nuance… Coffeehouses are public places, but oda’s, a unique place. Mahremiyet does matter. Oda is about pulling yourself away from the daily rush and turning to your core” (CI, 29). “When a friend comes to your table at a coffeehouse, you just chat, but not that sincerely. But if he visits you at oda, that is more mahrem, you feel obligated to show sincere hospitality” (MK, 27). “Oda’s sterile. At coffeehouses, there are weird men that disturb others. If you’re a well-known person, you have to intimidate them… I don’t want to go to coffeehouses. Men that know that I’m a lawyer ask questions and harass me. I need a private place to socialize the way I like” (CA, 34). “[Construction of] Oda had its motives. We didn’t use to have places for spending leisure time in Urfa. Now, there are filthy cafés full of various sorts of people. They enter everywhere because they can afford it. Naturally, urban families and their children needed to protect themselves” (MB, 45). “Odas are political institutions. Politicians visit odas and ask for their opinions. Odas can govern political and social life of the city” (SD, 59). “Spending time at home makes me uncomfortably nervous. I have to follow the TV channels of my father’s choice. He’s getting old and you realize that you are on a different track. I have to obey their norms. That’s dishonest. I cannot feel free until I go to my oda” (NS, 28). “Oda gives you space from static house life. You go there cheerfully unless you feel obligated. But when visits become routine, just like going home at a certain hour, oda can become less attractive” (VG, 28). “I don’t have an oda, but visit several odas as a guest. I am seen as an insider, they are my close friends. I don’t have an oda, because there are rules. You have to go there every Wednesday and Saturday. Wednesday evenings, I lecture at a university while on Saturdays, we sometimes have guests at home. When you commit yourself to oda, you have to limit everything else in your life. It constrains me that’s why I just visit them” (SK, 56).

Production and Consumption of Space: Ritualistic and Leisure Consumption
Similar to Ottoman coffeehouses (Karababa and Ger 2011), oda provides socio-, physio- and ideo-pleasures. By mutually engaging in oda practices in a shared domain, members enjoy social relations, conversations and practices. In addition to the traditional architecture and internal decoration, traditional foods, drinks, music and games are consumed in the pursuit of leisure. Furthermore, members can mutually learn from each other. What they learn may range from daily news to academic knowledge. For example, one oda invites academicians, politicians, lawyers, artists, theologians, government officials, and other such experts to talk on their own area of specialization. They also collected and compiled these speeches, publishing a book titled, Fasl-i Muhabbet in 2012.
Oda consumption practices embrace a ritualistic pursuit of leisure. According to his turn (sira), a member prepares traditional dishes, desserts and coffee prior to each meeting. Purchase of provisions requires elaborate planning and members mutually decide on supplier outlets and goods. Provisions are purchased through the practice of harefene whereby costs are shared equally. Sometimes, they engage in sahaniye where all members bring food from their homes and share it. In such a case, the “turn” does not apply. “Planning and preparation of dishes is done with exaggeration. They’re prepared in a manner that’s far more elaborate than dishes you prepare at home. There are 15 people and they comment on the food. If dishes are bad, then they complain. Preparation takes all this into consideration” (MK, 27).
The ritualistic nature of oda consumption is revealed by the expressive and symbolic consumption of goods, place and time, as well as dramatically scripted, intense and formal practices (Rook 1985). Moreover, like ritualistic consumption of traditional food, drinks and games, their practices of consuming oda as a space and a place exhibit qualities of sacredness and transcend the mundane (Belk, Wallendorf, and Sherry 1989). For instance, as AK (57) explained, “At odas constructed around the domain of domestic birds and animals, such as partridges, the most respected part of the room is allocated to these creatures and members are not allowed to disturb them. They silently wait for the partridges to sing.”
Consistent with Marshall’s (2005) remark, oda dinners symbolize the relationship between members and represent an important point where domestic production and consumption converge. Moreover, shopping for food and cooking are “markers” (Douglas and Isherwood 1979) of commitment and dedication to oda. Even though in masculine Turkish culture cooking is seen as a feminine and domestic activity, food and drink is prepared with specified scripts and roles in the presence of the oda community, and in so doing, members create authentic value, turn commercial goods taken from the marketplace into meaningful community objects, and impose oda identity on artifacts through preparation rituals, that is, a process of sacralization. Commercial goods and services, such as ready-made food or music played by hired professionals are disparaged and regarded as inauthentic, commercial, and profane. Food preparation and music performing rituals are the means of preserving and producing decommodified material culture and meanings (Wallendorf and Arnould 1991).
Members who violate rituals and the status of the sacred artifacts, experience, place and time are punished or dismissed. Dismissal from the sacred place, the oda as described earlier, is equated with “being cast out of heaven.” Activities such as television viewing are regarded as potential threats to sociability and are discouraged. In addition to commercial goods and services, alcohol consumption and gambling do not accord with the conservative and religious ideology of oda. “There are odas where men gamble. These kinds of odas are formed to hide gambling from the public gaze. It’s not nice. Your attention is on your friend’s pocket. But, these kinds of odas can’t survive. If you look into your friend’s pocket, that friendship can’t last. People can quarrel and leave oda” (AK, 57). “There are a few odas where men drink alcohol. They see that as oda. But it’s evil or worse, it can corrupt you. You have to be careful” (IK, 36). “We used to play Charades at oda. I know old men playing Charades is funny but it’s true. Our oda nearly came to an end. Members quarreled about the name of a film” (CA, 34).
Consumption practices of younger men are regarded profane by older men and are seen as merely transitory desires that stem from “curiosity.” Analyzing modernity as a product of male activity, Felski (1995, p. 43) argued that man constantly seeks to externalize himself in the act of performance, and thus, exemplify the principles of knowledge, of becoming, and of volition that typify the spirit of the modern. In Turkish culture, the transgression of young men is seen as legitimate, to the extent that socio-cultural values are not violated. It is thought that, by providing them with enough space, they will eventually grow up, give up transitory desires and become a mature man, to form his own masculine subjectivity.
Despite being Urfalı, our young informants seem to have developed instrumental perspectives to some extent. Perceiving the marketplace as marketer/consumer dialectic (Peñaloza and Gilly 1999), in this case, we propose that young consumer culture is becoming aligned more closely with marketplace culture. The following quote demonstrates that oda is a place where younger members can fulfill their needs in their own time and on their own terms. However, as they grow older, they internalize disciplinary gaze, tend to give up “transitory” transgressions and return to the long-lived narrative, while reflexively appropriating and contextualizing traditional behavior. “We used to go out every evening and stayed late, until 3 or 4 a.m. We had free time, but not many responsibilities… After midnight there are no places open in Urfa and you have to head back home or spend time in parks. Then we said ‘let’s keep an oda’” (BD, 28).
Since Islam essentially forbids waste and embraces modesty “as a pivot of Islamic consumption discourse” (Jafari and Süerdem 2012), consumption at the oda and consumption of the oda, as a place, should be modest and inconspicuous. The pleasures must humble, yet, humility does not encompass substituting red meat with “grass” (meaning vegetables). Red meat is a sign of masculine virility. Some dishes such as çiğköfte are jointly prepared as part of a ritual during the meeting. Serving food and drink is highly ritualistic. For instance, mırra, traditional coffee is served in one small cup shared by everyone. Anyone putting the cup on the floor or tray without passing it round is punished. The following quote illustrates eating appears to be a hedonic experience that involves a multisensory, fantasy, and emotive arousal (Hirschman and Holbrook 1982). “Urfalıs are gluttonous. Without delicious food, the night’s deemed a waste. We concentrate on food. More than 60 percent of our time is given to preparation and eating. Not just eating, but the preparation also gratifies us. Preparing a dessert alone takes two hours, but it makes us happy. That kind of food tastes extraordinary” (IK, 36). “[Members] do the math; 10 people go to a café, everyone drinks 10 cups of tea and 1 cup of Turkish coffee per capita and it costs 80 TL. Then, they think, instead of going out every three days a week, we can keep an oda and hire a servant. I can use all that money more effectively” (MK, 27). “Oda members have more benefits. Expenses are low. It provides economic benefits. When a man goes to a coffeehouse and plays card games, he will win or lose. Maybe he gambles and loses. But at oda, that cannot happen” (AÇ, 57). “Touristic sira nights aren’t authentic. Some odas have no musicians among the members. I mean, not every sira night has music. My father’s sira gatherings never involved music. Although one of the members was a famous musician, they used to play music at most once a year. But now, people associate sira nights only with çiğköfte, bowl [for preparation of çiğköfte] and music. That’s not it” (AK, 57). “The essence of oda is based on conversation and solidarity. But now, there are odas with music and musicians. It is all a money trap. They’ve nothing in common with our odas. I mean, even when we sing, our own members play music and sing, not hired musicians” (ŞŞ, 52).
Discussion and Conclusion
This socio-historical study focuses on the consumption practices of/at urban oda by placing emphasis on the interplay of the society and the marketplace (or agora, as broadly defined by Mittelstaedt, Kilbourne, and Mittelstaedt 2006), as a whole, rather than the individual marketer or customer (Hunt 1981). Oda is an important part of the marketplace with “social, recreational, cultural, political, civic and religious dimensions that embraces informality and sociability” (Layton and Grossbart 2006). The findings indicate that, similar to Ottoman coffeehouses (Karababa and Ger 2011), oda provides socio-, physio- and ideo-pleasures. By mutually engaging in ritualistic leisure consumption oda practices on a shared domain, members enjoy social relations, conversations and practices.
Similar to the “Mountain Men” (Belk and Costa 1998), urban odas rest on tradition, which provide members feelings of authenticity and continuity. Yet, unlike the modern mountain men, who value self-reliance and initiative, oda communities in Urfa rely on dependence and collective decision and action. Furthermore, masculinity does not only entail adopting an attitude of virility and ruggedness, but also the exclusion of women from their mahrem space. Other key values of urban odas, particularly of those comprised of older men, are reverence for the old over the new, the handmade and self-produced over the commercially produced, dependence over independence, indoors over outdoors, and urban over rural.
To create spatial boundaries that protect members from the threat of cultural appropriation and pollution, urban odas distance themselves from aşayirs, women, and others considered insignificant. Another threat of cultural appropriation derives from the market. Marketers’ value offering for oda communities are not perceived as a cultural threat in itself, yet their exploitation of oda practices and sira nights as authentic touristic attractions are seen as mere commodification of sira night rituals, and thus, a cultural threat with the potential to desacralize oda and sira nights; the cultural artifacts of Urfa (Belk, Wallendorf, and Sherry 1989; Kopytoff 1986). Supporting Peñaloza and Gilly (1999), the findings illustrate that marketers have failed to develop an understanding of the oda culture and, hence, they are not acculturated to consumer culture.
Although, urban oda communities reveal a certain resistance to commodification of their culture, it is important to recognize that traditional resistance to marketplace culture was not the main motive behind the evolution of these communities. Their discourse of resistance has increased recently as they become more threatened by marketplace culture. On the other hand, even though young members also espouse this discourse and contest commercial offerings, being cultivated in marketplace culture, these newer members do not resist marketplace goods and services, such as electronic devices and ready-made products, which provide them practical solutions to everyday problems. Being accustomed to consumer culture, these members do not regard all commodities as violating the sacredness of oda culture or polluting its space. Conceptualizing the marketplace in terms of a marketer/consumer dialectic (see Peñaloza and Gilly 1999), it can be proposed that oda denizens are becoming more aligned with marketplace culture, yet they still preserve traditional oda practices in an attempt to maintain cultural boundaries between insignificant others and to liberate themselves from patriarchal family ties. Their liberation attempts, however, are constrained within a small, closed community which cannot provide an outlet for their increasing need for adventure and play, in keeping with the times.
In addition to the discursive level, at a practical level, oda provides them a place safe from economic concerns. They are able to socialize regularly without being confronted with rising costs of leisure consumption. Oda experiences of young men can be considered to lie on both sides of dichotomies such as authentic/commercial, community/market, sacred/profane, liminal/everyday and liberating/constraining. Following Sandikci and Ger’s (2002) discussion, Sandikci and İlhan (2004, p. 154) suggest that contemporary Turkish society is characterized by significant cultural, social and economic differences that result in a variety of lifestyles and consumption behaviors. They argue that while certain segments remain close to tradition, others disdain them, perceiving them as a threat to their modern, urban identity. Some other segments return to traditions in an attempt to reinterpret traditions from the lens of the present. Our findings reveal that while older men cling to traditional oda practices, younger men neither keep traditions intact nor “return” to older oda traditions. Without abandoning them, they appropriate and recontextualize traditions as a way of constructing a sense of belonging.
This study also illustrates that odas do not reveal any anti-structural quality similar to consumption communities studied thus far in western contexts, such as the “Mountain Men” (Belk and Costa 1998) and the “Burning Men” (Kozinets 2002). Tumbat and Belk (2011) argue that communitas emerge as a characteristic of a social anti-structure that frees consumers from obligatory everyday constraints of their statuses and roles, and through shared ritual experiences and common goals. The present findings show no satisfactory evidence of anti-structure quality even in the experiences of younger men. Even though they contest marketers’ attempts to exploit their culture and separate themselves from insignificant others, there is no evidence of a desire for an overall escape from modern society and the rationality, rules, and stresses associated with it. Unlike the “Burning Man” and the “Mountain Men” participants, our informants do not need to “invert, temporarily overturn or deny social order” (Kozinets 2002). Since feudal times, male communities have played an important role in socialization within the masculine culture of Urfa. Historically, they were constituted through feudal marketplace relations, particularly ahi-order, and, in turn, the male communities come to constitute contemporary marketplace relations. As Urfa modernized, the feudal structure and relations dissolved, yet traditional ways of how men commune, relate and develop shared experiences and a collective sense of identity were maintained. Nonetheless, they are reflexively appropriated and contextualized, giving rise to alternative modern structures.
The oda case might contribute to the epistemic debates of the shortcomings of the western public/private dichotomy in eastern contexts. Obscuring the distinctions between public and private, oda is a place that is “undecidable” (Derrida 1981), something that cannot conform to either side of the public/private dichotomy. Furthermore, the present case also indicates that contrary to the association of male with public and female with private, domestic and mahrem spheres (Çakır 1994; Göle 2003, 2002; Sancar 2012), in the context of eastern Turkey, the male can also be associated with the mahrem sphere. Therefore, mahrem should be redefined so that it is not only restricted to referring to women’s space.
This study supports the theoretical claims that (1) deep-rooted cultural continuities manifest themselves in community identities and shape the construction and functioning of social institutions (Eisenstadt 2000; Schmidt 2010); (2) being influenced by specific cultural premises, traditions and historical experiences, modernization programs lead to diverse interpretations and trajectories (Eisenstadt 2000) through dynamic negotiation of multiple tensions between traditional and modern, urban and rural, and public and private. Socio-historically grounded analysis of urban oda communities and their consumption practices reveals that eastern Turkey has a distinct pattern of modernity that rest on socio-historical continuities and discontinuities. While oda and member identities indicate certain shifts from tradition to modernity, ritualistic consumption practices of/at urban odas reveal continuities with the traditional ahi-order, selamlik, and sira night practices. They can be considered the result of hybridizations between the traditional and the modern. Furthermore, consumption of oda as a place blurs the boundaries between private and public, thus manifesting undecidability (Derrida 1981).
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors would like to thank the Journal of Macromarketing Editor-in-Chief Terrence Witkowski and Special Issue Editors A. Fuat Fırat and Güliz Ger for their support, as well as the three anonymous reviewers for their insightful and constructive feedback.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
