As many of you know, Turkana Farms is so named because of a lifelong association of its co-founder, my late partner Peter Davies, with the country of Türkiye. Peter taught in the Aegean city of Izmir for three years in the early 1960s. In the 1970’s he began annual return trips, financing them by bringing back and selling Turkish flatweavings (kilims). Thus was born a formal business, Turkana Gallery of Old and Antique Kilims. In the early 1990s, I partnered with him in forming Turkana Odyssey, planning tours or escorting small groups of travelers to Türkiye. When we acquired the farm in 2000 and needed a farm name, I suggested Turkana Farms as simply a logical extension of the Turkana brand.

Our major annual break from the farm generally consisted of a two-to-three-week trip to Türkiye, during which we traveled to every corner of the country. Our travels included the southeast, where the catastrophic 7.8 magnitude earthquake of February 6 was centered. It is likely that over 50,000 people died in Türkiye and nearby Syria, with more than one million rendered homeless and tens of thousands in need of food and medical attention.

Such an event is always horrific to read about, but I’ve found myself particularly pre-occupied and viscerally affected because of that personal experience of having visited what’s been destroyed. The darkly romantic fortress city of Diyarbakir and the austerely light city of Sanliurfa (home to a major Muslim pilgrimage site, the pools of Abraham), are both in the zone that suffered significant damage. Both left strong impressions on me.

I was most affected, however, by reading in the New York Times about the utter devastation of the city of Antakya, capital of the Hatay region. ‘No More Antakya’: Turks says Quake Wipes out a City, and a Civilization. Antakya, ancient Antioch, had a far more cosmopolitan, melting pot kind of vibe than most of the southeast. Peter and I spent hours wandering the charming old city, seeking out vestiges of its heritage, including old synagogues and churches. We attended a church service at what I think was a Syrian orthodox church, with only about ten very well-dressed members in attendance.

I was taken sharply aback to see a picture in the Times article of an Antakya restaurant that had been turned into a shelter. I realized I had eaten in that very distinctive room, high on a hill with panoramic views of the city (perhaps why it survived intact). Reading an interview with the owner of the Hotel Savon, who was sleeping in his car in the hotel courtyard, reminded me of the days we stayed in that charming boutique hotel, converted from an old soap factory. Learning that the old quarter of the city has largely been pulverized was deeply affecting. I’ve since read that the President of Antakya’s tiny remaining Jewish community and his wife were both killed, and the dozen other Jews still living there have been evacuated, likely permanently, removing another piece of the city’s ethnic mosaic.

My reaction was not just straightforward regret for what was lost, however. Our restaurant meal in the glitzy redoubt overlooking Antakya was not, as I recalled it, an entirely pleasant experience. The food was fine. But our reception there was a far cry from the generous hospitality that dominates in most Turkish establishments. The room was dominated by a table of men who seemed to view it as their domain and glared at us foreigners. The service was grudging. It felt like the sort of place movers and shakers of the community would frequent, and in Erdogan’s Türkiye those movers and shakers have often been a rough, nouveau riche class of construction company owners who drove the country’s building boom. It seemed to us that we were in a sort of transposed version of a restaurant Tony Soprano would have frequented in New Jersey.

Recalling the atmosphere of that restaurant it was difficult not to think that the men whose domain we had intruded upon could be the same ones who got rich by cutting corners in constructing apartment buildings, paying bribes to building inspectors to ignore the requirements of Türkiye’s earthquake resistance codes, or cutting out support columns to increase ground floor commercial space. Such practices are being blamed for many of the building collapses that occurred, and Türkiye may be headed for political reckoning over a “look the other way” attitude and amnesty that may be partly to blame for the huge loss of life.

Partly but not entirely. Some natural forces are too powerful for humans to successfully protect themselves from. We are fortunate to live on solid ground far from any moving tectonic plates, but we would be foolhardy to believe that immunizes us from other powerful forces of nature that potentially threaten us. The recognition that we are all at risk from some environmental disaster should make us ready not only to cluck our tongues at reading about the earthquake but also to support the international organizations that work to help those affected to recover and thrive again. Organizations like the International Rescue Committee, Doctors without Borders, and UNICEF deserve your support.

WHAT’S AVAILABLE THIS WEEK:

EGGS ARE BACK! Nature destroys but it also regenerates. Egg production is back in full swing. Choice of rich concentrated young pullet eggs or regular size eggs, either way $6/dozen

TIME TO ORDER LAMB Order a whole or half lamb, cut to your specifications, $7/lb hanging weight. Lambs go to market Feb. 28

FARM PICKUPS:

Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you’d like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I’m now here full time, we’re abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we’ll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.

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