SMYRNA

Evening Post, Volume CIV, Issue 91, 14 October 1922, Page 18

SMYRNA

"INFIDEL CITY" OF

TURKEY

CARAVANS AND CAMELS

EASTERN BEAUTIES AND TURKISH DANDIES.

At the hour of sunset Smyrna, situated on the gulf of that name, presents an animated and interesting scene—or it did before its destruction. After the exertion of an afternoon's shopping, European and Greek ladies seek the re- i laxation of the picture show, or the creature comforts of the cafes, Smartly ' groomed men from the offices, having laid aside the cares of business, saunter along with their lady friends. The antiquated one-horse tramcars crawl lazily along the single track on the esplanade; on the side nearest the sea swarthy and sunburnt Turkish labourers unload slabs of marble from a large sailing boat, and place them in picturesque confusion in the middle of the thoroughfare, where most probably they will lie for a week or so ere the owner takes them away. Cabmen drive their vehicles in the most erratic and careless fashion. The inoffensive pedestrian often finds himself sandwiched between wheels of various sizes, and: his progression is a series of wild dashes to escape cabs and other vehicles, without mentioning the newer forms of locomotion. On Smyrna quay the motor-car and cycle travel in comparative ease^j the novelty of these machines has not yet grown stale, and a passage is quickly made for them. Equestrian, vehicular, and pedestrian traffic intermingle. The foot passenger must find his way as best he can. There is, of course, a narrow pavement, ; presumably intended for his use, but it is usually blocked with small tables and chairs—at any rate, in front of the cafes and places of amusement. CAFES IN SMYRNA/ If the night should be fine, as fresh patrons arrive, the waiters obligingly bring out tables and chairs until they extend half-way across the street, and if business happens to be exceptionally brisk seating accommodation and little round-topped tables are arranged on the other side of the street next to the sea. The young Greek fops, ytho for the last hour or so'have loitered about the doors of the large drapery establishments in Eve Frank, making a general nuisance of themselves by smirking and gazing impudently at ladies who are shopping, have now taken seats in the cafe, whence they can grin and ogle at that feminine section of the community who look for and appreciate such attentions. It is a cosmopolitan crowd, writes a Melbourne " Age " correspondent, and a perfect babel of language proceeds from the groups around the marble-top-ped tables. The pompous and stridentvoiced merchant peculiar to the Levant, with fatuous smile, emphasises his remarks by waving a fat cigai and punctuates his conversation by loud guffaws. His vis-a-vis is a clean-shaved, pimply individual, the .muscles of whose jaw work spasmodically, and he chews something with great vigour; occassionatly he makes a remark with an unmistakable American accent in answer to his dogmatic companion. A portly Greek watches his shifty-eyed Armenian companion through his cigarette smoke, and as he raises the long conical glass of beer to his lips he tries to fathom the purpose and the real meaning of the last remark. TUEKISH DANDIES. The young Levantine dandies poise their cigarettes in studied attitudes,' and blow clouds of smoke, from their nostrils ; at intervals, one will gaze earnestly inside his straw hat at the little mirror affixed to the crown, and with a deliberation befitting the gravity of the operation trim his moustaches with a tiny comb. Inside the cafe proper a Greek band of musicians play softly and sweetly upon ' mandolines and guitars; as the music swells,, the hum of conversation rises. The brightcoloured dresses of the ladies seem thrown in bold relief by the sombre clothes of the men, the dark red and crimson of the Turkish fez; the lights and glitter of silver and crystal combine to make,a pleasing spectacle.

The Smyrna beauties, who at this hour parade the quay and fill the cafes, do not leave favourable impressions, comparing them to typically English communities, for, although they dress carefully, fashionably, and presumably expensively, they incline to corpulency; they have pasty complexions, and their features are coarse. But no one can gainsay this fact—they are full of vivacity and gush. The ■ air is vibrant with their ■ shrill, treble voices; in and around the cafe they sit, surrounded by their friends, giving colour and animation to the scene. The bans stops suddenly, and the clear, sibilant laugh of the young lady who sits among her friends at an adjacent table floats on the evening air. There is a faint murmur of applause, ■ to encourage the musicians; the hum of conversation, which has been very loud, gradually dies away now that the music has stopped.

Three Turkish officers sit drinking tiny cups of coffee; they are engaged in serious conversation, and frequently ■ refer to a Turkish newspaper. As each Ottoman enters the cafe he gravely salutes this group by touching his breast, chin, and forehead, the customary salutation of the Turks, and meaning the service of the heart, mouth, and brain. The officers converse in low and guarded tones; their attitudes indicate an intense absorbed attention and earnest discussion. With an abrupt gesture the leader terminates the conversation. They all rise from their seats, click their spurred heels together, salute stiffly, and leave the cafe.

The esplanade, or quay as it is commonly called, is the principal street of Smyrna. Caravans of camels pass slowly along this thoroughfare, in which after sunset no merchandise is permitted and no vehicles other than private conveyances owned by the wealthy Europeans are allowed. In this portion of the town. Eastern costumes and customs have almost entirely vanished. As the quaint processions of camels, laden with bundles of tobacco and liquorice' root, pad softly along, they are preceded by a small donkey, with a ragged camel-driver astride, his unslippered feet nearly touching the ground, and nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. To the saddle of the donkey a rope is fastened, and it is then secured to the first camel, who is likewise secured to the second, and so on to the end of the ■ procession, the last animal invariably having a copper bell attached, which clangs as he walks, and so keeps the camel-driver informed that the last camel is keeping his appointed place in the caravan. Each procession reminds one of a string of barges gliding, slowly, but surely, preceded by a fussy little tug. As the sun sets the sombre-dressed, hooded, and closely veiled Turkish women disappear. In spite of al! the changes and the effect, of modern thought in Turkey, the Turk still refuses to allow his womanfolk to look out on the. world, and ;u public they must still wear tb» '".Wi.-.-nlt," or heavy veil. JL'bo TutfUiet ..wuiu.u retires only to be

replaced by her Greek sister with the headgear montrosity, the bare arms, low neck, and high skirt.

On the other side of the gulf, and separated from Smyrna by about four miles of water, lies the suburban village of Cprdelio, named, according to tradition, after the English King Richard Coeur de Lion, who made it a place of call during his crusades in the Holy Land.