Different Turkey: The House of Inner Sorrow – a visit to a Turkish brothel

Three months in Eskişehir, Turkey’s northwestern city, could sound like a reckless venture. But actually in this kind of trips we usually are able not only to see another country with different eyes, but to look at ourselves from a different perspective as well. During this period we started to know the real Turkey. Ramadan suppers, the ways how religion influences behavior, the multiplicity of sounds, Syrian refugees, a visit to a brothel, living in Turkish family, conversations with foreigners who decided to stay in this country; then coming back to Lithuania and communicating with Turks who developed critical approach to their country… All this was turned into stories that are a key to a different Turkey – without the glamour of seaside resorts, and this key was helping to open authentic doors to this country.

Today it was more difficult than ever. Will went to Istanbul and Godze and I couldn’t find a place for ourselves. The flat we were staying in seemed depressingly empty. We felt as if the traveler took all the quietness with him, and the walls of the flat were made of melancholy. Do you know the odd feeling when it seems that you are growing up too quickly? Growing with such inhuman speed that it tears all your body apart? It was too much of everything – emotions, people, knowledge, news.

When you feel this way, no experience is able to unsettle you. So we decided that it was a perfect time to visit a brothel which was one hour away from Eskişehir. When our Turkish friends heard of this idea they were perplexed and could not understand what we were going to do there. But Godze was quick to understand. We wanted to hear at least one woman’s story and to see what kind of people visit the brothel. We took our cameras and voice recorders with us. I also took a piece of paper and a pen – somehow I had a feeling that they will be more useful to me in the upcoming confrontation. There were busses that run regularly to the brothel, but we found out that only when we arrived there. And before that we argued with taxi drivers who persistently tried to dissuade us. “It’s dangerous. What are you going to do there?” – said one taxi driver who succumbed to our persuasion but still did not understand our zest. 17 EUR and we were there.

„I’m a respected man“

From the outside the building looks liked a prison. It was surrounded by wire fence and was enlivened only by blue and pink-painted walls. Security guards were keeping an eye on 6 houses within the structure that was inhabited by 7 girls. We could not verify if there were really 7 of them because we as women were not permitted to enter the premises. It was a citadel for men. We were noticed by three more people. Especially one of them. As if out of nowhere the owner of brothel which existed for 60 years appeared. Barry started to interrogate us immediately as he wanted to know why we came there. Godze explained to him that we wanted to make a reportage about tho women. Of course he wouldn’t allow us to talk to the women but agreed to answer the questions himself. “I want to help you”, he said.

He added: “Prostitution in Turkey is legal and regulated by law since 1923. Latest data shows that there are about three thousand women working in brothels, but actually there are about one hundred thousand women working illegally. Half of them are foreigners. Girls and women from Georgia, Russia, Romania, Poland, Moldova, Belarus, Azerbaijan, Greese voluntarily or not engage in the world’s oldest profession. However, over the past five years, new girls are not accepted to the brothels and some of the brothels, e. g. in Ankara and Bursa are being quietly closed.”

Work permits are not issued any more in order to create the image of a country with very strong morals.

Such changes are influenced strongly by the government, which imposes the shackles of religion on the country and the main culprit is the Justice and Development Party. The role of women is still relatively small. Two thirds (62.5 per cent) of women still do not have their own income and are dependent on their husbands or other relatives, their main role being that of a housewife. More than 40 per cent of women suffer from psychological and physical violence. For some of them prostitution is the only possible way to become independent. It is shocking but quite a few women become prostitutes only after they do not find a proper job that enables them to provide for themselves and their children. For some of them this is the only way to escape their physically and psychologically abusive husband.

“It is a pity that the government has made such a decision because the street is more dangerous for girls. Here we take care of them, ensure all kinds of security”, says Barry. His employees bring us more cups of tea. And he continues that every two weeks the girls are examined by doctors, that men who enter the premises must be not less than 18 years old and must prove their age by showing their ID cards, that they must be sober and cannot bring any cold weapon along. He interrupts his narration asking me why am I interested in such things.

Gozde translates my answers patiently because my knowledge of Turkish language is far from perfect. Barry, who is an impressively big man, keeps emphasizing that he trusts us, but also keeps repeating that he is a very respected man and this respect is displayed through fear. In the middle of our conversation it becomes clear, why he is so “respected” – he has been to jail and therefore has many “friends”. He strictly refuses to talk about his personal life.

I can see that Godze has started to sweat excessively as my questions become more persistent. Strangely, I have no fear at all. There is no place for fear here. Only men surround us: clients who came to pay for the services received, owner’s assistants, safeguards. If anything happens, we are helpless here anyway.

Friday is a day off for Muslims

It is like Sunday in our culture. That is why the women on this day are allowed to do whatever they want. On other days they accept clients from eleven a.m. till eleven p.m. About 23 EUR (it depends on the age and appearances of the girl) – such is the price for about one hour of bodily pleasures. Even before we get out of the taxi, we can see handsome young men entering the brothel – the kind of men who could easily find a girlfriend. It is the trap of Turkish traditions from which they suffer themselves. Boys and girls are not allowed to have sex before marriage. If the family finds out that the girl has lost her virginity, they can even renounce her and the marriage is out of question. No wonder that during a wedding ceremony one of the most important symbols is a sign of innocence – a red belt on the girl's body. It’s only natural that young men who feel such pressure visit brothels (and their partners usually know about it) or sometimes try to seduce foreign women who usually do not get much attention from the opposite sex at home.

An old man with a stick comes to the door. What is he doing here? “He is our oldest client, he is 85 years old”. I can see that Godze looks at me with increasing dismay. Barry tells us that usually every girl has to interact with no less than ten men a day. Looking at his feet he admits that the number is bigger – about 200 men visit brothel every day. Why would women do this? “All the women who work here are educated; many of them have graduated from the university nearby.

But they could not find a proper job therefore they chose to work in a brothel. We did not force them to come, and we do not force them to leave. Where would they go anyway? To work on the street? Here they are at least safe and are able to provide for their children”, Barry explains.

I ask if the brothel is a voluntary imprisonment. He emphasizes that all the girls have a right to decide for themselves. The owner of brothel admits that it is sad that young girls choose such profession. In his brothel there are two foreigners – a Russian and a Mongolian. “Natasha (in Turkey all the girls who came from Eastern Europe are called Natasha ) or any other – they are still human”, Barry finishes the conversation and once again expresses his surprise at our bravery. “Besides the girls who work here you are the first women to enter these premises”, he says.

I look for the clock because I lost track of time. Of course there is no clock around, because time loses its meaning here. We have missed the last bus and we are back in taxi on a dusty road. Barry promised to contact us and to organize our meeting with one of the prostitutes. But he did not call on the day agreed – most probably no woman wanted to make a confession.

Earlier brothels in Turkey were called the love houses and now they are becoming shelters of inner sorrow and cold.

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