Day 1.
Demetrios is waiting for us in a smart silver Nissan across the road. We have to navigate the hoards of traffic and stray dogs, hurtling down one of Izmir’s never-sleeping streets.
Izmir is Turkey’s 3rd largest city built upon the site of the Roman city of Smyrna - a city of a people famously commended for their faithfulness and endurance in the face of suffering and persecution, in the book of Revelation. These believers are praised for their ‘spiritual richness’ and encouraged to remain faithful unto death, to one day receive their ‘crown of life’.
We were full of anticipation for the richness that we might find on our first sourcing trip in Turkey, and surprised by how quickly we stumbled upon our first gem.
Having survived the traffic and the dogs, we were on our way to Demetrios' base in a suburb on the other side of Izmir’s vast sea port from where we were staying in the old town bazaar. ‘Demetrios is the name of an orthodox bishop from antiquity’ Demetrios announces proudly, within a minute of our ride.‘1 per cent of the whole of Turkey is Christian’ he says, sitting stoically at the wheel. ‘I am a catholic’.
His eyes are kind and calm, but his straight, slender features and round specs remind me of Steve Jobs. Like Steve Jobs, Demetrios has ruthless opinions about simplicity and design. Unlike Steve Jobs, Demetrios is possessive of the past, not the future. ‘I like old things. I don’t like new things.’ he pronounces in his muddy English as we pass slim modern apartment blocks that stand like lonely, glass dominoes amongst the industrial flats of the port region.
We pull up to Demetrios' unsuspecting warehouse, which looks more like a showroom in an oversized lounge with marble floors and white walls. He shows off his pots, some as old as 2,000 years, from the ancient city of Smyrna itself. But, over chai, we soon learn about his real passion - restoring old clocks.
He lifts off a dust sheet from a giant contraption in his workshop-come-kitchen and tells us about how he came upon the German clock tower mechanism. He’s a year into its restoration, which preoccupies most of his weekends.
We return to his exquisite pot collection. There’s a ‘pot hospital’ in the far corner, and neat sections arranged by date and region. Demetrios struggles to lift a huge green glass jar to present to us. It’s from Antakya - modern-day Antioch, which sits just above the Syrian border and was once home to another famous figure of antiquity - the Apostle Paul.
Antakya is also close to the epicentre of last year’s earthquake in which 50,000 Turkish people lost their lives. The lost lives are of course the greatest tragedy - amongst them a youth football team from Cyprus who would never return to their heartbroken parents. The pain now echoes endlessly through flattened streets and empty boy’s bedrooms. The ghostly footnotes detail innumerable lost pieces of cultural importance too, which renders Demetrios' collection more precious now for their survival.
Today we caught a glimpse of true wealth, through the eyes of one man’s dedication and perseverance, restoring and preserving rare beauty and craft that teaches us the value of endurance.
