Upper West Side suburban types think Paterson as Jersey's hood. You’d have to squint pretty hard to imagine Paterson as the Silicon Valley, but in it's heyday during the industrial revolution, this rust belt looking town made everything from cotton and silk to iron and trains.

The incongruities don’t end there.  It is also William Carlos Williams’ eponymous modern epic poem described as “Whitman's America, grown pathetic and tragic, brutalized by inequality, disorganized by industrial chaos, and faced with annihilation. No poet has written of it with such a combination of brilliance, sympathy, and experience, with such alertness and energy.”

South Paterson Home to the largest Turkish-American immigrant community in the U.S. – at last count about 20,000, down from about 60,000, fifty years ago and the second largest Arab community after Dearborn, Michigan. Visit these streets on a Muslim holiday and you’re likely to see the kids who attend Prospect Park public schools hanging out, observing the festivities with their families.

And not unlike the Middle East, Little Ramallah  -- bordered by Madison Avenue to the north, Crooks Avenue to the south, Hazel Street to the west, and East Railway Avenue to the east – suffers from something of an identity crisis because it is alternately called Little Arabia or Little Istanbul due to the equally large numbers of Turks, Syrians and Lebanese.

Still, according to exasperated local Turks – although they don’t let on because that’s just not a Turk’s style – one is either a Turk or an Arab, but not both. Both can be of the Islamic World, but not religiously. Turkiye is secular, and doesn’t practice Islam. It is a buffer to fundamentalist Islam, but itself is neither East nor West, which defines both its problem and its blessing. Its heart is in Asia (Ankara) but it faces Europe (Istanbul).

South Paterson, it only looks Arab. Upon closer inspection of the business signs and you realize, they are not Arabic.

The contradictions keep coming, for we have crossed the great divide from West to East. Turks also read right to left. Like Greeks, they say “no” by nodding their head up and down, much like the West gesture “yes”.  “Yes” is a downward nod, which looks like the Western gesture for “no”.

Once you get past the cultural reversals, preconceived notions, and unfamiliar language you realize you are having an authentic cultural experience subtitled by Turkish “authenticity”.


Oz Karadeniz 1023 Main St. Paterson, NJ  (973) 523-7779

The smell of something grilling thrilled me nostrils first toward a local eatery slash watering hole where a few of the neighborhood men check in to say hello, use the phone, catch a soccer game, or a smoke.

Ahmet and his wifeYadigar Bayrou make a succulently grilled Chicken Doner Kebabs,  with bulgur wheat and pilaf, Cacik Yogurt sauce with garlic and dill. Swill it down with pure peach soda. Best part of the meal was talking to, the owner about the neighborhood. He explained the meaning of the handmade artifacts on his walls and introduced me to the “boss” (his wife) making delicious dips and salads along with his daughter-in-law. His grandson, Joseph doing handstands on the chair of my table was a charming little kid with big brown eyes. I thanked him profusely for his hospitality, and left feeling satisfied.

Drizzly and gray, I was about to head home when I wandered next door to the only Turkish book shop in the tri-state area called "Zinnur” at 1019 Main St. (973) 278-6662, run by Zinnur -- previously seen hanging around next door at Oz – who (before I knew it) poured me a glass of Turkish tea in a delicate little tulip glass an homage from the Lalezar era of the Ottomans. Quiet and ready to listen to my questions, he and a store colleague and another guy who was just passing through, reminded me that the rest of the world still takes to stop. And. Talk. To an ethnographer reporter, a citizen diplomat who would tell the real story of Oz to the Suburbanites.



I stopped off on the way home at Taskin, the Turkish bakery where again, I was shown the famous Turkish hospitality inquiring about the Turkish flat bread called “Pide”, handmade and brick oven baked. They come topped with sesame seeds and black caraway seeds or plain for sandwiches or table bread. They took me behind the counter, showed me around while the smell of fresh baked bread intoxicated me. A poster for the Turkish-American Festival was thrust into my hands . They wanted me to tell “everybody” to come. There’s a flag raising ceremony on Thursday, May 14th in front of Paterson City Hall (155 Market Street) in front of Clifton City Hall (corner of Clifton & Van Houten Aves.) and lots of parading, eating, music entertainment, singers, musicians, folk dancers, food, vendors, games, prizes & surprises. With all this culture right here in North Jersey, who needs Ninth Avenue?

Next up: The Syrians of South Paterson, NJ.

Lisa La Valle-Finan is an Intercultural trainer, writer, and the Creative Director of getGlobalized™. She’s been traveling and writing for 25 years, speaks French, Italian and Greek, and welcomes all comments and can be reached at . More information can be found on the company’s website at

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