Surprisingly many people don’t seem to make a drama out of this situation. Instead of buying their own flat they move in with their parents, their siblings, friends or spouses. Together things work out. And after all isn’t it nice to have breakfasts and dinners together?

A wonderful thing about the Turkish society is that friends and family immediately and without batting an eye pitch in and help if someone is hard-pressed for money (as long as the person in need is not a hopeless player or went into depth out of pure laziness). I have never seen a society which is more willing to help and to make sacrifices than this one here in Turkey when it comes to supporting someone in lack of money – maybe because he or she has a boss who pays salaries which is enough to render anyone sleepless, or because his or her own company went bankrupt. Few environments allow such a soft landing when the bank accounts suddenly show zero and worse – given that you have good friends or family. Some money will always come up, some money can always be borrowed, no matter what the balance of your friends’ own accounts is. Apparently even the parties of multi-family houses sometimes gather money (anonymously) for their broke neighbour, given that he or she had really given their best is now doing everything to get a new job. (Unlike in Germany, the entrepreneurial approach is always appreciated even if it failed.)

Unfortunately and regrettably, however, this willingness to help is often brazenly exploited by those who do not want to pay appropriate fees and salaries. As a reporter for a large Turkish newspaper you start – from what I was told – with about 500 to 800 YTL (please let someone prove me wrong!). While it is definitely adorable that friends and family step in when help is needed, it should not be forgotten that good work is worth good money, my dear bosses, the responsibility lies with you!

Highly irritating is also an attitude à la “You go ahead and start working and later I’ll tell you how much I think it’s worth.” This is not a made-up example. Of course we need to talk and negotiate about money – but, please, before starting the job. Also, the money that was agreed should actually be paid. From the top of my head I now at least half a dozen cases where people waited for weeks to receive their payments and eventually quit without any hope of ever going to see their money.

As a freelance journalist I have personally encountered further examples of brazenness: “We like your story ideas. Please go ahead and write something on that topic for us. Unfortunately, however, we cannot pay for freelance contributions.” Hello? That’s my job! How am I suppose to make a living? From what Turkish colleagues tell me this incident is not a single case in the Turkish media world – well, it also occurs in most other countries but at least if you write for large publications you will get at least some money. Small ambitious magazines, meaningful but profitless, are a different story). In my own case we eventually agreed on a ridiculous sum of money to be paid for my contributions. A beginning. Though I will only be able to afford this work – while money negotiations are continuing – as long as I have other jobs that allow me to sustain myself. When asked how other contributors to this magazine manage to survive, one editor told me: they either have other jobs or rich husbands (sometimes, rarely, the wives are the money makers).




So this goes out to you, my dear richly married ladies (and occasionally gents), those of you who may only want to see their names printed and who don’t seem to need the couple of hundred lira, not even for the sake of your pride. You ruin the prices with your journalistic hobby. And the quality.




Dorte HUNEKE