Turkish Coffee House Etiquette

In Turkey, I have seen a newcomer salute one after another, each person in a crowded coffee room, once on entering the door and again after taking his seat, and be so saluted in return —either by putting the right hand to the heart and uttering the greeting “Merhaba,” or by making that triple sweep of the hand which is the most-graceful of salutes.
– Image source Wikipedia

In a Turkish Coffee House the Politeness is Effusive and the Prices are Very Low

The etiquette of the coffee house in Turkey or, those coffee houses which have not been too much infected by Europe, is one of their most characteristic features. Something like it prevails in Italy, where you tip your hat on entering and leaving a cafe. In Turkey, however, I have seen a newcomer salute one after another, each person in a crowded coffee room, once on entering the door and again after taking his seat, and be so saluted in return —either by putting the right hand to the heart and uttering the greeting “Merhaba,” or by making that triple sweep of the hand which is the most-graceful of salutes. I have also seen an entire company rise upon the entrance of an old man and yield him the corner of honor. 

When your coffee is ready it is poured into an after dinner coffee cup or into a miniature bowl and brought to you on a tray with a glass of water. A foreigner can almost always be spotted by the manner in which he finally partakes of these refreshments. A Turk sips his water first, partly to prepare the way for the coffee, but also because he is a connoisseur of the former liquid as other men are of stronger ones. And he lifts his coffee cup by the saucer, whether it possess a handle or no, managing the two together in a dextrous way of his own. The current price for all this, not including the water pipe, is 10 paras —a trjfle over a cent—for which the kahvehji will cry you “blessing.” More pretentious establishments charge 20 paras, while a giddy few rise to a piaster—not quite 5 cents —or a piaster and a half. That, however, begins to look like extortion. 

And mark that you do not tip the waiter. I have often been surprised to be charged no more than the tariff, although I gave a larger piece to be changed, and it was perfectly evident that I was a foreigner. That is an experience which rarely befalls a traveler among his own co-religionaries. It has even happened to me, which is rarer still, to be charged nothing at all, nay, to be steadfastly refused when I persisted in attempting to pay, simply because I was a foreigner and therefore a guest.– H.G. Dwight in Scribner’s, 1913

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