What kind of connection could there be between a walnut, a knife, and a toy robot? How could these three distinct objects come together to create a memory? Before you continue reading, take two minutes to think about how they might be connected. You'll find out the answer soon enough. The answer lies in the memories of a three- or four-year-old child—memories so vivid they are never forgotten, even when he reached the age of forty. But perhaps "hidden" isn’t the right word to describe it, as the heroes of this memory are already out in the open: a walnut, a knife, and a toy robot. Through this story, we’ll also be sharing the tale of a family heirloom and an old hospital of Istanbul.
The Walnut, The Knife & The Robot:
It must have been in 1988 or 1989. Dimitri Vafiadis couldn’t take his eyes off a jet-black toy robot with big red eyes he saw in a toy shop window. He was just three or four years old at the time. Every cardboard box at home transformed into that black robot in his imagination. He’d explained countless times to his mother, father, and godmother how beautifully he would play with it if it were his. But children often want things, and when they get them, they quickly lose interest. Besides, the things Dimitri wanted weren’t exactly cheap. Still, he truly wanted that robot.

Some time passed, but the robot wasn’t forgotten. These were the years when Dimitri lived in Sarıyer with his mother, Theodora, and father, Stavros. His godmother Sofia lived in Şişli. For some reason, Theodora had to leave Dimitri with Sofia that day. Besides Sofia, Dimitri’s grandmother, Giuseppina Sanzoni, and his step-grandmother, Gönül, were also at the house. While Dimitri played in the living room, the women chatted around him.
Let’s tell the story from two different perspectives:
The women’s experience:
While chatting amongst themselves, the women became so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice Dimitri disappearing until they heard crying from the kitchen. The three women ran to the kitchen and were shocked to find Dimitri crying, his hand covered in blood. While trying to calm the child, they also attempted to piece together what had happened. A yellow-handled knife and a walnut on the kitchen counter seemed to tell part of the story.
The child’s experience:
Noticing that the women were absorbed in their conversation, Dimitri quietly made his way to the kitchen. No one even looked back to see where he was headed. In a corner of the kitchen, the little boy spotted a bag full of fresh walnuts in their shells. He took one from the bag. How could he open it? Who knows where the nutcracker was. Then he had a bright idea: if he held the walnut in one hand and used a knife to wedge into the seam of the shell, he could probably crack it open. He grabbed the walnut with his left hand and the yellow-handled knife with his right. Holding the walnut tightly, he positioned the knife at the seam between the two halves. However, things didn’t go as planned—the knife slipped and cut deep into his left index finger, from the base to the palm, causing him to cry out in pain.
Hearing his cries, the women rushed into the kitchen, utterly shocked by the sight in front of them. They scrambled to calm the child and figure out what had happened. Soaking cotton balls in cologne, the three women tried to bandage the boy’s finger. Meanwhile, they were consumed by the worry of how they would explain this to his mother.
The next day, they took Dimitri to a doctor in Sarıyer. After examining the wound, the doctor reassured them that it was just a simple cut. Although this eased the family’s worries a little, things were not as straightforward as they seemed. Day by day, the finger became more discolored and drooped limply backward. Each time they went back for a check-up, they were told it would heal.
French Pasteur Hospital, Istanbul:
The family grew increasingly anxious. Dimitri’s father went to work every day with a heavy heart, while his mother waited at home, full of worry. Losing hope in the current doctor, they didn’t know where else to turn. Eventually, Stavros shared the situation with his friends, hoping one of them might know a good doctor. A friend named Murat suggested a name: Dr. Oya Bayrı. Murat’s neighbor, Dr. Bayrı, was easy to contact, and they soon arranged an appointment. At the time, Dr. Oya Bayrı worked at the French Pasteur Hospital, located near Taşkışla, behind the Divan Hotel in Elmadağ.

French Pasteur Hospital, Yesterday & Today, Elmadag - Istanbul
The French Pasteur Hospital, which ceased operations in 1991, was later sold to the Tekfen Group along with its land, building, and chapel. Though no longer active, the hospital remains part of Istanbul’s cultural inventory. Established initially in 1719 as a makeshift infirmary, it became known as the French Plague Hospital and was later rebuilt in 1896. In 1925, it adopted the name French Pasteur Hospital.
Returning to our story, Dr. Oya Bayrı examined Dimitri and quickly realized the situation was far from simple. She immediately scheduled him for surgery. It turned out that the tendons in Dimitri’s left index finger and palm were severed beyond repair. Following a lengthy surgery, the boy’s finger was restored as much as possible. However, a slight imperfection remained, likely due to the delay in treatment. This small flaw would later lead to Dimitri’s lifelong habit of playing the guitar left-handed—a silver lining of sorts. Had this happened to an adult, the injury could have been healed perfectly, as the recovery process involved squeezing a sponge ball with the injured hand in warm water. Unfortunately, for a child, this therapy felt more like playtime than a structured treatment.
The Robot: 1980, Saturn by Kamco
After the surgery, Dimitri needed to stay in the hospital for a while. One day, while resting with a caretaker by his side, his hospital room door opened, and his parents entered with a gift-wrapped package and flowers.
Dimitri already knew what he wanted to see inside the package, but of course, he wasn’t sure what it actually was. Over time, he’d lost hope of ever receiving what he truly wanted. With great excitement, he began unwrapping the gift. With one arm in a cast, he carefully used his right hand to open it slowly. As the wrapping paper came off, the colors of the box began to look familiar to Dimitri. It was the very box of the robot he had longed for so much! His beloved robot had come to him as a gift during this challenging time.

1980's - Dimitri Vafiadis, together with the Robot in hospital
And so, the connection we asked about at the beginning—a walnut, a knife, and a toy robot—comes down to this. At least, this is how it’s tied together for this family. This bond is so deeply rooted that not only Dimitri but everyone in the family who lived through that time remembers this relationship.
Let’s talk a little more about this robot. Manufactured in 1980, the Saturn model by Kamco is just one of many toy robots produced by the company. With its bright red, glowing eyes, four rockets on its head, and a screen on its body, it was a walking robot. A common fate of these robots is that the rockets on their heads often got lost, making it rare for them to survive intact today. However, the feature that made this robot truly fascinating was the screen on its chest. The screen contained a fixed image illuminated by flashing lights, creating the illusion of a monitor on the robot’s body. This was enough to captivate not just children but even adults in the 1980s. Approximately 35 cm tall, these robots were manufactured in Hong Kong.

1980s, The Robot, Saturn by KAMC0
Today, this robot holds a special place among the family heirlooms in the 2mi3museum collection. Since the museum is currently digital, you can only view this robot through their website. Who knows, perhaps in the future, if 2mi3museum ever establishes a physical location, you’ll get to see this robot in person.
Written by: 2mi3, January 2025
Sources:
1- https://kulturenvanteri.com/tr/yer/pasteur-hastanesi/#17.1/41.042381/28.988495