Posted at 6:00 a.m.
(Istanbul) A lemonade with grapefruit and coriander. You don’t see that every day on the menu of a cafe in the Turkish metropolis. Istanbul, although cosmopolitan, leaves little room for tastes from elsewhere.
But at Café Grão, it’s one of the refreshments offered to customers who come to quench their thirst, but above all, above all, to find comfort there.
This small establishment in the Kadiköy district, on the Asian side of Istanbul, has become the haunt of young Russians who have left Russia at war and who are trying to rebuild their lives far from all their bearings, in the Turkish megalopolis of 16 million of inhabitants.
“Often, newcomers land here as soon as they set foot in Istanbul. They arrive with their luggage, their questions, ”says Igor Kolchin, owner of the café.
In a not-so-distant past life, the Russian entrepreneur ran a bar in St. Petersburg. Right after the start of the war, in March, he decided to leave the country and pursue a dream: to have a business abroad.
In less than two months, he found investors, premises and an endless stream of new clients. It is estimated that between 200,000 and 1 million Russians have left their country since the start of the invasion of Ukraine. They are tens of thousands to have taken up residence in Istanbul. Since Putin announced a partial mobilization on September 21, thousands of new exiles are arriving every day.
The evening of my visit to the café, a dozen young people bent over a communal table tapped on their computers while others, seated on the covered terrace, sipped coffee or tea. All day long here, we exchange information, contacts. “On the second floor, there are Turkish lessons for emigrants,” Igor Kolchin tells me.
Is his café a business or an NGO? “For it to be worth doing business, it must also meet the needs of the heart,” he replies with a smile.
For a journalist who wants to speak with Russian exiles, the Grão café is manna. I didn’t even have to approach Dana Atagulova, she came and sat next to me to tell me her story.
The 25-year-old, from Ufa, just west of the Urals, had never traveled before the start of the war in Ukraine. “I dreamed of living abroad, but I was afraid. But when February 24 arrived, when I saw the Russian troops entering Ukraine, it was as if someone had stuck a knife in my back. I participated in demonstrations, the police were everywhere and arrested people. I knew I had to leave,” she explains to me. She arrived in Istanbul on the first day of spring.
At first, she didn’t know a cat. “I was completely lost,” she concedes. While renting rooms on Airbnb, she got to know some friendly Turks and other Russian exiles. She made a profile on the dating app Tinder to make new friends. The success was immediate.
Today, she is like a fish in the waters of the Bosphorus. “I feel safe in Istanbul. In addition, I am privileged to have kept my job in a Russian company because I work in information technology,” she says.
She looks with a little suspicion at the Russians who have landed since the announcement of the mobilization. “So many people who supported Putin in the beginning are now trying to flee,” she sighs.
Every day, the organization Kovcheg, or L’Arche, receives hundreds of requests for help and information from Russian emigrants seeking the North of the South. “We are temporarily hosting around 40 people in shared apartments, but we cannot help everyone. Priority is given to journalists and activists. We work with people who have clear political opinions,” explains Eva Rapoport, one of the coordinators of the organization in Istanbul.
The doctoral student in anthropology, a specialist in Asia, moved to Turkey during the pandemic to write her thesis.
She was already familiar with the sprawling city when the war broke out and her fellow citizens began to flock. “I’m glad I can do something to help instead of spending the day watching the news on my cell phone,” she says.
L’Arche organizes information events, but also anti-war artistic evenings. Through a huge online network, the organization also offers legal advice and psychological support. “In Istanbul, we are creating a community. There are amazing people from Russia who are in Istanbul right now,” she adds.
She struggles to understand why Western countries — starting with those of the European Union — are closing their doors to the Russians one after the other. “I don’t believe in the concept of collective punishment. Vladimir Putin is not only trying to occupy Ukraine, he is also occupying Russia. Russians who oppose the war are currently facing sanctions from both the Russian government and Western countries,” she said. “It’s ironic to say the least that countries not known for their human rights record — like Turkey, Mongolia and Kazakhstan — are the ones hosting Russian dissidents and deserters right now. »
Igor Kosarev was perfectly happy in St. Petersburg before the war. “I love my country, I love its literature. We have extraordinary resources to build a bright future. But one man is changing all our plans, ”says the 25-year-old young man, seated at the Grão café.
In Russia, this food expert was making kombucha. He had a small factory.
Like many, he left as soon as he could after the announcement of the mobilization. He detoured through Finland before landing in Istanbul. “My body is made for love, not for death,” he tells me, all smiles.
His body is also made for tattoos. He’s got it from head to toe. “My tattoos tell episodes of my life. When I get old, it will be like a biography that I can read,” he says. He is already planning to get an iconic Turkish tea glass in the shape of a tulip tattooed, to mark the new chapter of his life.
He is the newest hire at the Exiles’ Café. “Here we are building a new world. Our own future,” he says.
Like what, with lemons, you can always make lemonade. And in Café Grão, it tastes like grapefruit, coriander and rebellion.