These days I am going through a
phase commonly called “nostalgia.” This word is defined as “a sentimental
longing or wistful affection for the past.” I grew up in Istanbul, Turkey, and
lived in various villages, as my parents moved from Kuzguncuk, in the Asian
side of the Bosphorous, to Galata and then to Sisli, both in the European part
of the maritime divide. When I look at my old pictures in Istanbul, I remember
the places and smells of my childhood neighborhoods, the foods my mother cooked
or those we ate at the local restaurants, the places I visited with my family
and friends, the music I used to sing at the synagogue, and I get teary-eyed
for a moment, only to realize that these
memories are just memories of an age long gone by.
But I have done something: Recently,
I have reconnected with some old friends , now living in Israel, Europe or
Canada, and have made new friends on Facebook with some Turkish Jews who still live
in Istanbul and also in many parts of the world. We share the same cultural background
and speak the same language (Ladino, Judeo-Spanish of the 15th
century). I have also asked my wife, Ines (born in Argentina), to cook meals
based on old Turkish recipes that I was able to get online, and have dragged
her to Armenian stores in the greater Boston area where we live, in order to
get typical pastries of the old world. Is this typical? Or I am going through a
phase in my life, now that I am 79 years old?
The word “nostalgia” is derived from
two different Greek words, “nostos” (meaning, homecoming) and “algos” (meaning,
pain). In the past, it was considered a psychological disorder, and ever since
the 17th century, a Swiss physician, Johannes Hoffer, called it “a soldiers
disease,” attributing it to their longing for their return home after a long
battle. In Spanish, it is still referred to as “el mal de Corazon” (heart
pain). Some people even think that it is caused by demons. However, there is a
new attitude regarding nostalgia today. Based on investigations done by Dr.
Constantine Sedikides and others, nostalgia is now recognized as a powerful
tool in the battle against anxiety and depression.
In my case, I don’t feel I am
anxious about anything in particular or depressed by any means; only the recognition
that my life is slipping away much faster than I expected. The reality is that
if I were to go back and visit the places of my childhood, I will certainly be
disappointed, because they would not look the way I remembered them. In fact,
about a dozen years ago, when I went to Istanbul and roamed the main street of
Kuzguncuk, I could not believe how narrow it was!
So, now I taste anew some of the
delicacies I can find in my neighborhood in Boston (e.g., baklava, muhallebi,
and others), look at old pictures to refresh my memories of events of the past,
and am grateful that I can still recall them in my mind, singing quietly the
old melodies that shaped my personality. O tempora, O mores, as Cicero, the old
Latin politician of the 1st cent. BCE, would have said!
Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, Ph.D.
Oct. 2017
