Cornell is a freelance photojournalist and documentary photographer based in Johannesburg, South Africa. He studied at the Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg where he completed the Photojournalism and Documentary Programme (PDP) in 2013. Cornell’s work has been published on The New York Times (US), The Wall Street Journal (US), The Independent (UK), The Times (SA), The Telegraph (UK), Huffington Post, The Washington Post (US), ESPNCricinfo.com and others. At the end of 2014 he held a solo exhibition titled, Uprooted – The People of Sophiatown, where he examined the forced removals of residents of Sophiatown, South Africa in the 1950s and 1960s. Cornell is a contributor to European Pressphoto Agency (EPA), Anadolu Agency and The Times Newspaper (SA) as well as other publications.
“Sometimes I feel I am in between identities, I am not all Turkish, and I am not all Dutch”.
They drink tea, coffee and beer, they watch football, they smoke, they gamble, they play Okey (pronounced OK). They are Turkish men who enjoy the company of other first, second and third generations in De Pijp, Amsterdam. They speak Turkish, they hangout, they have children born in Amsterdam, they are not sure if they are Dutch enough to be Dutch of Turkish enough to be Turks.
Portfolio from the Visual Storytelling workshop with Ed Kashi, October 2016.
Video conference with
KATHERINE OKTOBER MATTHEWS,
Chief Editor GUP Magazine
Patrons originally from Turkey as well as second and third generations come to Karanfil to enjoy their space to play games, talk politics and Turkey.
Smoking, tea and the slapping of counters onto tables while playing Okey hits the senses at Karanfil.
The men come from all around Amsterdam, to enjoy 'proper Turkish tea'. The local barber is in tonight having finished his last haricut at his shop next door.
'Last Card!' is heard when the card games heat up. Up to 30 Turkish men come in to socialise and keep their language and games alive.
Arguments can happen in 'Okey', but more often than not they are sorted with friendly banter. Most of the older men were very young when they arrived in Amsterdam. Their fathers were labourers in the 1960s and 1970s, helping to build modern Amsterdam.
A lone patron enjoys the familiar atmoshpere of the cafe. Many Turkish people come in to play games, watch Turkish football and gamble.
The cafe is run by two co-owners. Providing a place for Turks within the southern part of Amsterdam. Some children of the these men find it hard to identify as Dutch or Turkish, Cengiz Dogan (centre) says 'my kids are learning Dutch and English at school, in a good schooling system, it is better here for them, but I don't want them to lose who they are'.
Turkish football is played live on television. Football is very popular and the big games are well supported by patrons. Some visitors to the cafe have Dutch teams they support but by in large are fanatical about Turkish football.
Ibrahim Kocak (79) came to Amsterdam in 1969, where he began work in the transport industry as a driver. Many Turks were the labour force and working class in the first immigration wave in the 1960s. 'The Dutch people are nice to me and I am happy here', Kocak says.
Whilst there is no food prep on the premises, the owner and customers find a way to eat together. Turkish food traditionally prepared is enjoyed by everyone linking them to their parents cooking.
Mert Ozgut (32) owns Karanfil, he has been in Amsterdam for over five years. His parents moved to Amsterdam 30 years ago for economic reasons. 'I've always felt welcome here, but it is also nice to have the cafe for Turkish people to get together.'
Regulars can sleep anywhere in the cafe. Over the weekends, cats and other patrons can stay until 3am. An anonymous customer says 'our wives think we are stupid for being here for so many hours in the day.