THE night life in Pera sketched in the past chapter constitutes, naturally, only one aspect of the present-day so-called social life of Constantinople. In full justice to the inhabitants of the city I must say that it is only the “Perotes,” that is, only those who inhabit Pera—be they foreigners, Greeks, Armenians or Levantines—who find pleasure in this kind of distraction. The people of Stamboul lead the quiet life which I have already described and in between these two extremes there are, of course, quite a large number of foreigners, of Turks and of non-Turks who do not participate in this kind of life but who nevertheless seek distraction in the society of each other in a more rational and decent way than the Perotes—if not quite as sedate as their friends of Stamboul.

Pera is the theatrical and the red light district of the city. Stamboul is the residential district of the more conservative Turks, that is to say, the Turks who are modern enough to set aside all the antiquated customs of their ancestors who—by preventing their women from participating in the every-day life, had handicapped the social progress of the race—but who are not and do not care to be modern to the point of adopting indiscriminately all the social customs, good and bad, of the Occident. Fortunately for Turkey, the Turks who belong to this group constitute the greatest majority. They are serious-minded people, progressive without exaggeration, desirous of adapting to their own temperament and customs only those foreign customs which are desirable. They do not seek to imitate blindly western nations. They do not care to be over-westernized. These Turks realize that with all its superiority over the Oriental structure, the social structure of the West is far from being perfect, and they do not propose to introduce and adopt customs which either might be incompatible with their temperaments and traditions or which have been and are strongly criticized by well-thinking people even in western countries.

Besides Pera and Stamboul, the two opposite poles, there is another district of the city where certain foreigners live and some native non-Turks, and quite a few Turks who do not mind over-westernization. This district comprises the quarters of Taxim and Shishli and a certain portion of Nishantashe. It is situated on the hills north of Pera and is considered by some to be the modern residential section of the city. For those who really love Turkey and the Turks or even for those who are only interested in the Orient it has, however, not much charm or attraction. Modern apartment houses and new residences built in concrete or in stone, but which have no distinctive character, adorn its wide avenues and its smaller streets. The architecture here has no individuality whatsoever, judging by the external appearances of the buildings and by the aspect of the avenues and streets, with electric street cars running, with automobiles and modern garages one might be in any city of Europe. All speak of modernism and those who inhabit it worship anything that has the stamp of western civilization. However, if one desires to lead any kind of social life comparable to that of western countries one has to come to this district and one has to identify oneself with the social clique which dwells in it.

So, as my wife and I are both human, as we are still young and desire once in a while some kind of mundane distraction, we have had to frequent—if not extensively at least moderately—this section of Constantinople. One glimpse of a night in Pera had been sufficient to make us realize the necessity of finding other playgrounds. We had to break, once in a while, from the quiet, peaceful and elevating life of Stamboul if it were only to make us appreciate more our normal home life.

Shortly after we had settled in our house a cousin of mine who lives in Shishli gave an afternoon tea to introduce us to his set. He is a prominent business man of Constantinople, and both his own position as well as the prominence of his family have placed him and his charming wife among the leaders of the Turkish social set of Shishli. They have an attractive house on one of the principle avenues and entertain frequently. His wife, like all the Turkish ladies of her set, has a weekly “at home,” On these days one is sure to find a large crowd of callers in her salons. She is a perfectly charming woman, very young and beautiful. Her beauty is typically Turkish, tall and slender although not emaciated, languid black eyes with long eyelashes. She dresses exquisitely as she buys most of her frocks in Paris where she goes periodically to renew her wardrobe. At the time they gave the afternoon tea in our honour they had just refurnished their house with furniture purchased on their last trip to Italy and France. It was the first tea of the season and my cousin and his wife told us that all their friends were very anxious to meet us. As theirs is a dancing set the news that a Turk, freshly landed from America with his American wife, would be present at the tea had created quite a sensation; they were all keen to see the latest steps danced in the States. The dancing reputation of the Americans is worldwide and the fact that my wife was an American had stirred the interest of my cousins' friends. As for me, they imagined that any one who had lived in America for such a long time must of necessity be a good dancer. Only a very few of the members of this set were known to me, and that very superficially, as I had met them as small children when I had previously been in Constantinople. Now most of them were married and had children of their own. So when we arrived at my cousin's house we had to be introduced to every one. My cousin, Salih Zia Bey, and his wife, Madame Zia Bey, did the honours in that most exquisite modern Turkish fashion which, despite all its westernization, has still kept something of the ceremony characteristic of the old Turkey.

We were ushered in by a tiny Javanese maid. The drawing-room was crowded. Both my wife and myself felt the strain of being the guests of honour. We were somewhat conscious that we had to live up to the expectation of our new friends and try not to disappoint them too much with our terpsichorean abilities. Madame Zia Bey received us at the tea-table, which was really a sort of large buffet piled with delicious pastries, cakes, sandwiches and biscuits of all kinds. Tea, coffee or a delicious punch were served according to the taste of the guests. It was as elaborate as the cold supper buffets one sees in America at large dances.

Madame Zia Bey, her sister-in-law and two other young ladies who were helping the hostess to serve, were the only ones who did not have the “charshaf”—all the other ladies wore this most becoming headgear which is made of the same material as the dress and fits tightly around the head, while its two flowing ends, which enclose the shoulders when the ladies are in the street, hang loosely behind them when they are in the house. Over the head a flimsy veil—generally some precious lace—is thrown backwards at a rakish angle and frames the face, which remains entirely uncovered, in a softening cloud. After serving us with some tea and cakes, Madame Zia Bey passed us on to her husband who, one by one as the occasion arose, introduced us to the guests. Later the introductions were finished by Madame Zia Bey who joined us after she had served all her guests at the tea-table.

We were glad to see a few of our friends from Prinkipo and the Bosphorus but the majority of the guests were, of course, new to us. There were two young men, two brothers, who were introduced to us as the two “tango champions” of the set. I must say that they are very nice young boys and, despite the fact that they dance most exquisitely, they are not at all the type of dancing men one meets elsewhere. Their sister was also there, with her fiancÉ. I wished that some of my American friends who absolutely refused to believe that the custom of arranging marriages between girls and boys who had not previously met was a thing of the past in Turkey could have seen this couple. Mademoiselle Rashid Bey and her fiancÉ had known each other for some time and their marriage was the result of a genuine romance in which no outsider had interfered.

There were only two or three foreigners among the guests, and the most prominent of them was the Japanese Ambassador, who is quite popular in the social circles of Constantinople. The Italian military attachÉ was also present as well as a French officer. A Greek lady whose husband is one of the very few prominent Greeks who have remained openly faithful to the cause of Turkey was also there. Needless to say that she and her husband are very much liked by the Turks who recognize their real friends and show them true gratitude under all circumstances. The rest of the crowd was exclusively Turkish, all most attractive and genuinely refined people who had kept, despite their extreme westernization, the good manners and the good breeding characteristic of their race.

When everybody had duly partaken of the delicacies and refreshments offered at the tea-table, we adjourned—with the slight touch of ceremony prevailing in all Turkish gatherings—to two spacious drawing-rooms on the same floor. And, as we expected, the informal dancing started to the sound of a gramaphone of the latest model imported from America. It was a surprise for us to see how extremely up to date everybody was. Charming Turkish girls were dancing the newest steps as expertly as dÉbutantes of New York, London and Paris—with a little more decorum, perhaps, and certainly with less “abandon,” but that did not in any way hurt the effect. Quite on the contrary it gave to modern dances a degree of respectability which is not always found in the West.

One other difference that we found was that the tango still reigned supreme here. It was played at least seven or eight times during the evening. But after seeing the excellence with which everybody danced it my wife and I were quite reluctant to give a demonstration of our own limited abilities. We had to immolate ourselves, however, and although we did our best to come up to expectation, I am not quite certain that we entirely succeeded. Of course I had to explain that I should not be personally taken as an exponent of the American art as I was not and never had been an expert in dancing. My wife saved the day for America by tangoing with the real experts as perfectly as only an American girl can.

This tea-party at my cousin's was our first experience of Turkish social life. It was to be followed by many others during the winter. As I have said before, all Turkish ladies belonging to this set have a day at home every week and if one cares to go out extensively one has somewhere to go practically every day. While we did not indulge in daily social activities this gave us the opportunity to go out every once in a while—about once or twice a week—which afforded us a pleasant change from our more serious and much quieter life of Stamboul, without obliging us to seek distraction by frequenting even at long intervals the unhealthy amusement places of Pera.

Thus the Turks have found a way to amuse themselves among their own people exclusively and while, of course, some foreigners are asked to the parties of these small Turkish sets it is only a very few of them—carefully selected—who are privileged to frequent Turkish society. I am ready to admit, however, that to my mind the selection of these foreigners should be done even more carefully as I share entirely the views of my aunt, explained in one of my former chapters, that the foreigners who are at present in Constantinople are not as a whole very trustworthy and that it is very difficult to distinguish among them those who can be, without any objection, taken within our homes. All the more because the Turks are racially extremely hospitable and they are therefore apt to show too much confidence and to become too intimate with those they take in their midst. Many other races, many other civilizations have gone down just because of their pure and unsuspecting hospitality toward foreigners. The Turks cannot be blamed for their present attitude. In fact, if they are at all to blame it is that some of them are even too careless in their extreme desire to become entirely westernized and despite the fact that I consider myself extremely liberal in my ideas I entirely endorse the Turkish National Assembly of Angora for remonstrating periodically with the Turkish inhabitants of Constantinople for mixing too freely with foreigners and for adopting too indiscriminately their customs. Right in the middle of the 1921–1922 season the Turkish papers published broadcast such a remonstrance of the National Assembly and although many of the ill-disposed foreign newspapers took advantage of this to harp on the xenophoby of the Turks ruling in Anatolia, it really was for the purpose—very justifiable and commendable—of reminding the people of Constantinople that they should respect and honour any and all of their national traditions which did not hinder the continued advance of the nation toward progress and real civilization. A reminder of this is an absolute necessity and has to be uttered periodically, as the people of Constantinople live at present right in the midst of every kind of imported vices and immoralities and the first duty of a nation for the protection of its vitality and its vigor is to see that the virtue of its people is not contaminated.

Naturally, in view of their environment, the Turks of Constantinople are in danger. The greatest majority of them have so far escaped contamination by segregating themselves in Stamboul and in Nishantashe but there are some who need to be called to attention once in a while as the temptations in their path are too great. In justice to them I am bound to say, however, that judging by what I have seen they keep their morals and virtues unimpaired despite their gay and sometimes rather “advanced” appearances. But still the danger is there and a periodical warning is a very good measure.

Most of the Turkish social activities and entertainments are held in the evenings, that is, from tea-time to about dinner-time. The Turks, even those who live in Shishli, have neither the means nor the heart to entertain elaborately, and big dinners or official receptions or dances are much too elaborate affairs for them to undertake. So they are satisfied with tea-parties with dancing—tango-teas they are called—such as the one given by my cousin. The evening entertaining is done exclusively by the foreign diplomatic missions and by some prominent foreign business men. I am, of course, talking exclusively of social entertainments which are refined enough for the Turks to participate in. The other evening entertainments offered by the professionals of Pera or by the doubtful social set of Perotes—Greeks, Armenians and Levantines—are not taken into consideration.

The foreign diplomatic missions give once in a while special receptions for the Turks to which are also invited the officials, the representatives and the nationals of the countries which are, if not at peace at least not at open war against the Turks. For instance, at any of the receptions where Turks were invited Greek officials and Greek nationals would shine by their absence and, according to the wind which blows over Turco-British relations, British officials were absent or present if the latest declaration at the House of Commons was to the effect of reinforcing the English support to Greece or else had taken the colour of a revival of the traditional British friendship towards Turkey and the Muslim world. The shifts in international policy make the official social life in Constantinople a very delicate matter indeed, and the host or hostess who plans to give a large reception and is obliged to make the necessary preparations considerably beforehand has unquestionably a very hard task, as no one can foresee, a few days in advance, what the prevailing international policy will be on the day the reception is given. The only reception that I know of which was given with a total disregard of international relations and at which all officials and prominent citizens of all nations were invited was the reception given at the Persian Embassy in honour of the Crown Prince of Persia and despite all, it was the most successful reception of the season in Constantinople.

The Crown Prince was on his way to France and was to stay only a few days in Constantinople so that the Ambassador could not possibly give several receptions to which he could have separately asked the different warring nations. To ask only some at the single large reception he was obliged to give would have alienated the friendship of all those who had not been invited. So the Persian representative bravely decided to ask everybody without distinction of nationality and without regard to the political situation, and let events take their course.

Naturally, events were powerfully helped by the “savoir faire” and the courtesy of the Persian representative and of his wife who were so charming and hospitable to all their guests that every one enjoyed the reception most thoroughly. Of course we were all anticipating with much curiosity the experience and were anxious to see how it would turn out. The Persian Embassy is in Stamboul, only a few doors from our home, and the fact that the wife of the representative was an American and that we knew them both in America had established most cordial friendly relations between them and ourselves. So we were delighted to comply with the request of Her Excellency the Khanoum, who asked us to come early so as to be present when her first guests arrived; and soon after dinner my wife and I made our way to the Embassy.

The Persian mission is located in a big building which had been repainted for the occasion. It is in the center of a large garden and has a gorgeous view of the Bosphorus from over the Sublime Porte. Over the big entrance gate of the garden it has the Persian emblem, a lion and a rising sun. The garden had been decorated for the occasion with flags of all nations and multi-coloured lanterns, while on a mast in the center floated majestically a huge Persian standard. Concealed among the trees a Turkish Naval Band, graciously loaned by the Navy Department, was playing different pieces of music. Attendants in Persian uniforms with small black kolpaks received, on the marble steps of the Embassy, the arriving guests. We were among the first to come and it gave us an opportunity of admiring the rich antique Persian carpets with which the enormous entrance hall had been decorated. The whole place was covered with shimmering hangings, carpets and rugs and with plants and rare flowers. At the top of the stairs stood the Khan and the Khanoum with the entire staff of the Embassy, all in uniform and decorations. The Khanoum wore her beautifully embroidered Persian court gown and her diamond decorations and greeted us with the ineffable charm which has won for her the hearts of all who have met her in three continents. She took my wife by the hand and brought us into one of the principal salons from where we could have a view of the gardens. She informed us that the Crown Prince was resting in his private apartment on the floor above, awaiting the arrival of the principal guests to hold his court. As the guests were now arriving the Khanoum returned to the head of the stairs to greet them.

From where we were we could also see the central hall where a special dais had been built to serve as a throne for the Crown Prince. The guests were placed in the different drawing-rooms, according to their individual social or official position, the most important ones waiting in the first drawing-room and the others in the drawing-rooms behind. Soon the Naval Band outside was playing the different national anthems of the different diplomatic representatives as they were coming in. One of the first to arrive was the British High Commissioner and his wife who took their place right at the door of the drawing-room where we were waiting. After a few minutes and as the band was starting the Turkish National Anthem, which indicated that the personal representative of the Sultan and of the Crown Prince of Turkey had arrived, the Persian Crown Prince came in and took his place under the dais with his brother and the Khanoum on his right and the Khan and the Turkish Grand Master of Ceremonies on his left. Every one stood at attention. The Crown Prince is a young man, dark and good looking with a small, closely clipped black mustache. He looked slim and tall in his tight-fitting long black court dress, and appeared that evening somewhat tired and nervous, which after all was quite natural considering that he had just arrived from a very long and tedious trip across the Persian deserts, Bolshevik Caucasia, and the Black Sea As soon as he had taken his place the Turkish Mission was ushered in and I am frank to admit that I was proud of the appearance of our representatives. The Sultan was represented by his Minister of Foreign Affairs, General Izzet Pasha, an imposing man of about fifty, with gray mustaches, his fez slightly tilted on one side giving a martial expression to his distinguished and refined face. The Turkish Crown Prince was represented by his son, Prince Omer Farouk Effendi, an athletic young man in the uniform of a cavalry lieutenant, tall and well built, blond hair and blue eyes. They were both surrounded with young officers who clicked their heels martially when they were being introduced to the Persian Crown Prince. After the Turkish Mission the foreign missions were introduced one by one according to the seniority of their respective heads and when the British Mission had closed the official train—the British High Commissioner being the most recent foreign appointee in Constantinople—the turn came for the other guests. Because of our privileged position in the first drawing-room our turn came immediately after the official missions and when we made our reverence to the Crown Prince he cordially shook us by the hand and addressed us in a few kind words in French. We then passed into the big ballroom where all the guests had gathered, and the painful ordeal of all official receptions, where you have to greet with stereotyped words the different people you know, began. But it did not last long at this reception, as there was informal dancing and as soon as the music started the ice was broken and the usual relaxation set in. We danced a little and we watched the crowd which was the most interesting agglomeration of official people one could see anywhere. Even the Greek Mission was present, but its members had the good taste to disappear soon after the dancing had started. Prominent diplomats of all nations and dashing officers in resplendent uniforms were talking and joking with each other as if the war had never taken place, or if peace had really been established. But the most stunning figure of all and the one which attracted the most attention, was unquestionably that of a young Arab prince, cousin of Emir Feigal, King of Mesopotamia, and direct descendant of the Prophet Mahomed. The prince, or more correctly the “shereef," as his real title is, was clad in a flowing robe of silk and had the Arab headgear, a white silk cover tightly bound on the head by a band of gold threads and loosely floating on the shoulders. We were talking with some American friends, a dear old lady of the Middle West and her husband who is a teacher at the American Robert College, when the Shereef recognized me and came to speak to us. Naturally, I introduced him to my wife and our friends, and as he spoke English most fluently, as he looked most romantic in his robe, and his blond beard gave a Christ-like expression to his aristocratic features, our friends were visibly very much impressed by him. When he left us the lady of the Middle West, all a-flutter, asked me who he was—and could not conceal her terrible disappointment when I informed her he was a “Shereef"! The dear old lady confused the title with the functions of a sheriff charged with the keeping of the peace in English-speaking countries, and her disappointment as well as the ignorance of her husband, who did not correct her, amused us so that we did not explain, and to this day I imagine that they both are firmly convinced that sheriffs in Turkey wear too gorgeous and too impracticable uniforms.

Towards midnight the doors of the dining-room were opened and every one went down stairs to have cold supper. The crowd was such that despite the rather chilly weather of the season many wandered in the gardens. It is here that I was for the first time introduced to His Highness Izzet Pasha, Minister of Foreign Affairs, who was later to show me many marks of friendship. He of course knew my father and my family and immediately put my wife and myself at our ease by stating that he wanted to be considered by us as an “Oncle.” This is a mark of extreme courtesy in Turkey and we were, and have been ever since, duly grateful to Izzet Pasha for this and for his subsequent real friendship. Be it said in parentheses that Izzet Pasha is one of the ablest statesmen of Europe, broadminded, most progressive and democratic.

As the crowd was thinning we had an opportunity to talk some more to the Persian representative and to the Khanoum who were justly delighted with the remarkable success of their reception. They had dared to bring together all the representatives of different nations at war and of nations who had not yet concluded peace and they had been most successful in their endeavour. This was especially remarkable as it took place right in Constantinople which is and has been for many years the center of international intrigues, political rivalries and petty jealousies. We could congratulate them therefore most truthfully. They took us back into a small sitting-room on the first floor where we had a few minutes private audience with the Crown Prince who courteously expressed the hope that we had enjoyed the reception. Upon learning that my wife was American he stated his admiration for the United States which he hopes to be able to visit some time. It surely would be a very good thing for the world if through visits of this kind the western world was placed in a position to know and appreciate the Orient. The American idea of an Oriental potentate would surely be greatly revised if Oriental princes such as the Persian Crown Prince and the Turkish Imperial Princes came to America and entered into personal touch with the people.

Of course the Oriental feminine element was entirely absent from the reception at the Persian Embassy, the Persians being in this respect much stricter than the Turks, their women do not go out in society and as Persian ladies were not to be present, Turkish ladies also remained away. But this is not the case at the receptions given by the other Embassies, especially the American Embassy.

The United States High Commissioner and his wife give every season a series of entertainments to which they ask in turn the different nations represented in Constantinople. This solves very diplomatically the always ticklish problem of bringing inadvertently together representatives of nations who are not on good terms. The receptions given at the American Embassy are always most enjoyable and I can say without exaggeration that among all the foreign representatives it is the American High Commissioner and his wife who are the most liked—and liked indiscriminately by all—in Constantinople. Whenever they give an entertainment to which the Turkish society is invited the drawing-rooms of the Embassy are filled to full capacity as all the Turks who are asked want to show their appreciation by coming to the party. The company is always the most representative gathering that one can see in Constantinople. At one of the “thÉ dansants” they gave recently there were, besides all the Turkish Government officials, not less than four Imperial Princes and three Princesses. It surely is a sign of the times and proof of the emancipation of Turkish women to see at a large reception a Turkish Princess, a niece or cousin of the reigning Calif, freely talking to strangers.

It is always at the American Embassy that one sees the largest collection of Turkish ladies. Americans are very much liked by the Turks and many of the younger Turkish generation have been educated at Robert College or at the Constantinople College, the two American educational institutions of Constantinople where young men and young women are educated according to an American program. It was at one of the teas given at the American Embassy that we met one of the principals of Robert College, and he and his wife having asked us to tea the following week and having promised to take us through the college we were delighted to accept their invitation.