This sentiment is most evident in young Turkish Americans' embrace of the American concept of individuality.


Sunnyside resident Ali Batmaz owns a shoe store in Manhattan.
PHOTO: Brian Morrissey

Ali Batmaz, a 29-year-old who emigrated from Istanbul, is married to an American woman of Dominican descent. "Here you have real responsibility," he says. "You have responsibility for yourself."

Just six years since leaving Turkey, Batamaz is steadily giving more weight to his American identity. "America is the No. 1 country for me now," he says. "I don't miss anything that is going on in Turkey. I see it all on the satellite TV at the soccer club and I read the Turkish newspapers."

At Mimar Sinam Camli, the nondescript storefront Turkish mosque squeezed between a Korean preschool and an Irish funeral home, about 75 men attend Friday prayers. The worshippers are a mixture of young and old, with more attendees who are older than younger.


The Turkish community in Sunnyside maintains its connection to its Muslim religion through its mosque located on Skillman Avenue. PHOTO: Stephen Lucey

After the service, one of the men, Serdar Manisali, a 41-year-old lab technician, estimates that 25 percent of the Turkish community are observant Muslims.

"The Turkish community is a close community, but not a mosque-centered one," Manisali says.

Indeed, the mosque no longer is the center of Turkish life in Sunnyside.

"The mosque used to represent the center of socializing, discussing politics, economics," Ibrahim Kural, a 34-year-old worshipper, explains. "Now, when the service ends, we hang around just five or 10 minutes, shake hands with people we know, and go home to our families."

Nihat Yildiz's Sunny Grocery serves as a sort of bridge for the two worlds the young Turks of Sunnyside are trying to connect.


Nihat Yildiz's grocery store is the ultimate combination of Turkish and American culture — it's where Budweiser meets the samovar. PHOTO: Stephen Lucey

On the one hand, he seems acculturated to the United States. He speaks with only traces of his Turkish accent, and admits that he prefers to speak English with his siblings. He says he is trying to make his store a neighborhood grocery — not just a Turkish one.

On the other hand, Yildiz still maintains personal and commercial ties to Turkish culture. He attends Friday prayers regularly. His store sells Turkish newspapers and magazines, and he delivers Turkish food and groceries to Turks living throughout the city.

"I could live in both worlds," he says of his Turkish and American identities. "But I'll be staying here for the foreseeable future."

 

 




Hikmet Salgon addresses the members of Mimar Sinam Camli mosque. PHOTO: Stephen Lucey

By Stephanie A. Sirota

Snuggled between an Irish funeral home and a Korean preschool is the Mimar Sinam Camli mosque.

There is no gold dome, nor is there anything in particular that draws attention to Sunnyside's only Turkish mosque.

From the outside, it looks like your average storefront. From the inside, however, it is a place that enables the Turkish Muslims to stay connected to their roots.

During the hour-long Cuma (pronounced joo-mah) prayer service, the mosque serves as a link to their cultural heritage. The stark contrast between the sanctity of the worship and the unsuspecting storefront is just one of many contrasts within the Turkish community.

At least one twenty-something Turk is wearing a New York Knicks baseball cap, unlike the traditional fez worn by several older men.

Dress is casual, ranging from khakis and button-down shirts to Adidas sweat suits.

The service is led by Hikmet Salgon, the mosque's Imam, which is the equivalent of a Catholic priest or a Jewish rabbi.

Kneeling on a small rug, Salgon faces his audience and reads from the Koran. He speaks passionately without pausing to take a breath between sentences, and his voice vacillates between calm and fervor.

Salgon talks about teaching the Koran to children, and he talks about paying for his daughters' college education.

He epitomizes the plight of the new immigrant who remains connected to his native culture while working hard to adapt to his new lifestyle.

Salgon also works as a limousine driver in order to provide his daughters with the education and foundation for becoming integrated in American culture.