Turkish Beaded Mashallahs
Posted by: valeriehector | Filed Under Turkish BeadworkTurkish Beaded Mashallahs
January 5, 2009
They say memories are most indelibly etched in our brains when intense emotions are involved.
One of my most indelible memories came about as a result of a minor car accident about fifteen years ago. I was driving on an expressway in the Chicago area, and I accidentally rear-ended a taxi in heavy traffic. Fortunately, it was only a tap, and a fairly gentle one at that. Still, it was upsetting. A few seconds went by, and I realized that it wasn’t serious.
I saw the taxi driver start to get out of his vehicle, presumably to have a word with me, and then I saw something hanging from his rear view mirror. I knew instantly what it was—a beaded mashallah, an elaborate one.
I first saw what I came to think of as a beaded mashallah at my friend Ani Afshar’s house in Chicago some years prior to the accident. She had gotten it in Turkey long before, and promised to get me one some day if she ever went back to Turkey.
At the time of the accident, I didn’t have my own beaded mashallah. For reasons I can’t quite articulate and to this day don’t fully understand, I really wanted one of my own. But they were so hard to find in the U.S.
Beaded mashallahs are handmade by prisoners in Turkish jails, and designed to be suspended from the rear view mirror of a car. The Arabic word mashallah means something like “may Allah so ensure it,” meaning the safety of the vehicle, its driver and passengers. Such ornaments have been made by Turkish prisoners for at least several decades, as a way to occupy time and a means of generating a small amount of income.
Most beaded mashallahs of this sort feature one, two, or three small birds hanging in little niches above or below the word mashallah. The birds tend to be worked in bead crochet, while the mashallah inscriptions are done in loomwork. Other beadnetting techniques also turn up too. Beaded mashallahs tend to be fairly small. The blue one on this page is about 7 inches tall, the red one, 8 inches tall.
But back to my little accident. As the taxi driver started walking towards my car, I got out and started walking towards him, apologizing the whole while for being so careless. Looking at him with the eyes of an American who had never been to Turkey at that time, I thought he could well have been Turkish.
He was not exactly listening. He was sort of yelling at me, not in a mean way exactly, and I couldn’t blame him. After I apologized a few more times, I asked him please to show me the beaded mashallah hanging from the rear view mirror of his taxi. I pointed to his rear view mirror.
I was still pointing as he shook his head, rolled his eyes, walked back to his taxi, got in, and drove away. I thought of following him to try asking again, but I didn’t. Maybe I wasn’t destined to have a beaded mashallah, I thought, and best to be quiet and leave well enough alone.
A few years after that, Ani went back to Turkey and brought back for me the red mashallah shown on this page. Today it hangs in my studio, right above my work table. Just recently someone gave me the blue mashallah as a gift, and so far it hangs in my kitchen. I treasure them both, and feel that I have enough mashallahs now.
Although I keep them in my house, not my car, I have the sense that my two beaded mashallahs might still be working in my favor, persuading the universe to try and ensure that only positive things happen to me and my loved ones.
Thankfully, I haven’t rear-ended anyone since. And I did finally get to Turkey in 2007, twice, but I didn’t see any good mashallahs.
(Text and images copyright Valerie Hector 2009)
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4 Responses to “Turkish Beaded Mashallahs”
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Hi Valerie,
Loved your story about the Mashallah birdies. I bought one with three birds on a perch here in Brooklyn during a street festival on Atlantic Avenue. It was made by a Palestinian woman who was now living in Brooklyn. Unfortunately, I have never seen the family again at the festival.
Adele
hi – i just read your blog this a.m. as i was “googling” Mashallah birds to explain to a friend visiting Turkey what i wanted her to bring home for me.
i spent three months in Turkey in the late ’80s, overlapping with my dad and his wife who were vacationing there. We all came home with the tokens and hung them from our dashboards. Mine finally fell apart from age, but had great, great sentimental value.
Thanks so much for your post and the pictures, which will help my friend in case she wonders what I am talking about.
What fun it is for me to read about mashallahs! In 2001 I had the good fortune to work in Istanbul for a few weeks, and I found quite a few pieces of beadwork, mostly in my hotel giftshop. The shop owner said most of the pieces were from Kars, near the Russian border. Some are very similar to your photos. I also found some crocheted necklaces, and a plastic bottle covered with beadwork, topped with a beaded bird, and a funny nozzle used to shake water on guests(?). It says “welcome” in Turkish.
Valerie,
I was interested in your reference to Ani Afshar. Back in the 80′s I purchased a few wonderfully elegant textiles from her then-husband. He was so patient and eager to “educate”; I loved visiting his beautiful gallery. We were then transferred to Brazil (only Amazonian beaded objects, usually quite deteriorated), and he apparently disappeared.
When we returned, and Larry and I were finally able to return to Chicago (from New Orleans), he had closed his River North gallery.
He is missed; and I’m sorry that their marriage didn’t survive life in the United States.
Your reference to Kiff Slemmons in a previous blog was also of interest. Her several exhibitions at the Cultural Center have been very exciting. But that paper jewelry project she has created is especially extraordinary. Because we live in Kalamazoo, and visits to Chicago are few, I have not been able to purchase something wonderful from that project. But I’ll keep in touch with Luminaire.
Have you ever visited Ta-ze in the 500 building, Michigan Avenue? The owner there is Turkish, and delightful. Her soaps and olive oils are exquisite.
Every thing of yours that I wear always attracts compliments galore!
Susanne Spencer
Kalamazoo, MI