Culture and Difference

              This week I asked my Upper Intermediate class what was the most important thing that Turkish culture has given to the world.  It wasn’t an easy question, and I saved it until the end of a class where we had been discussing cultural differences, but none of them could give me an answer, so I told them to dwell on it and I would ask them again next week.  It is a topic I have been mulling over this past week, while I was doing research for my classes, but if someone asked me the same thing about Canada, what would I say? 

                

My new winter coat- I opted away from yellow.

              Culture is an interesting concept as the world grows smaller, and having last lived in a city like Jakarta, it is a bit of an adjustment to the more conservative viewpoints of people in Malatya.  For most of them alcohol is a sin, pork is a sin.  There is no alternative.  When I told me class that on Easter many people eat ham, one of my student’s faces contorted in the utmost disgust at the mere concept of anyone consuming pork.  Granted he is an imam (Muslim religious leader) who spends most of my classes in shock (“Teacher, do people lie in Canada?”  Me- “People lie everywhere!  It has nothing to do with Canada!) asking questions relentlessly and trying to goad me into admitting that the west is immoral. (“Really?  People drink alcohol at weddings?”- me “Some people.  Not all people.”)  There are only two weeks left with that class, and both myself and my Turkish co-teacher, Ali, are thrilled to see the back of him (Ali: “When this class finishes, I will never see that man again.”) 

                

           The rest of my students are more open-minded, however they have their moments.   I asked one class what was disgusting food and they responded that Chinese food was disgusting.  I was a bit taken aback as I love Chinese food, so I asked them why.  Their response?  Chinese people eat insects.  After registering my surprise because while it is probably true that in rural China people do eat insects, that would never have been my first thought.  So naturally the next question I posed was if they had ever actually eaten/seen Chinese food?  No.  Never.  Turkish food.  It’s all about Turkish food- and while I do love Turkish food, I miss variety. 

               

Fresh off the barbaque

               That being said, my students are fantastic.  They are all writing exams this week, so the classes have been half full at best.  Throwing my lesson plans out the window for one or two students is my favourite thing to do: we talk, and it’s fun.  One of my elementary students from a class I share with Elif invited us to a barbeque on Saturday night.  Despite my reservations (weekends are exhausting enough without a social life) I agreed, and she and her friends picked us up from school to take us to Yesilyurt.  We drove into the middle of nowhere (or at least it felt like that in the dark) and down a country-esque road to what I can only describe as a cottage- except it was only a kitchen and living room with a large patio and an outhouse.  Whether or not that was it or the rest of the house was hiding somewhere, I have no idea- it was too dark to tell, but the lot looked pretty enough.  They had started off the barbeque, the men putting together kofte (meatballs) and kebabs while the women finished the salads (Turkish salads I can’t remember the names of) and tziziki in the kitchen, and the rest of us stood outside and chatted until it was so miserably cold we retreated inside- only heated by a heat lamp, it didn’t improve things much, but it did block out the wind. 

Simply delicious.

               The food was fantastic (as I hadn’t had time to eat since 6am that morning- like I said, weekends are tiring) and the beer was good (all free of course- I will never tire of Turkish hospitality) and after dinner there was a big Turkish sing-along/pow wow, complete with guitar, although lacking the bonfire.  Having been out on to the pub on Thursday as well with a different co-worker (making friends is exhausting- you always have to say yes to invitations- only when you are comfortable with your relationships can you start turning people down) and I was tired.  We got home at a reasonable hour, but by the time I had washed the firey smoke smell out of my hair and gotten settled, it felt like it was time to get up again.

              

Elif, Ebru and I.  (Don't remember the other woman's name...)

               Two other big excitements of the week, were of course, the arrival of internet in our home.  This has opened up endless possibilities in communication, yoga videos, vacation planning and recipe finding.  I also look forward to the ability to study Turkish with more than Google Translate- hopefully I will be able to wow you all with my linguistic prowess, but only time will tell  The other was my first Teacher’s Day gift!   Today is Teacher’s Day: whether this is an international day or just a Turkish one, I have no idea, but it’s fun.  Kubra (Buglem’s mom) being the most thoughtful person on the planet, had Buglem give me a clock (which Buglem opened for me and then cried because she didn’t get to keep it, but still) which is now sitting proudly in my kitchen, although it’s a ticking clock so the battery may shortly be removed and it will be solely for decoration, but we shall see how badly it irritates me first.  It is amazing how that started out as a job, and has quickly turned into the highlight of my week.  Again, Turkish hospitality knows no bounds.  (Side note: although tonight I was buying wine in the shops and I saw Ali (Buglem’s father Ali, not my co-worked Ali) at the till, and I definitely hid in an aisle until he was out sight, in case he thought ill of me for drinking alcohol.  It’s been a long time since I did that and yes, I am fully aware that it was unnecessary- it seemed more polite not to flaunt the fact..  It’s amazing how quickly your mindset can be altered in an attempt to be culturally sensitive.  

My teacher's day clock!

From Apricots to Elazig

Apricots and nuts.

                            I was not aware of the multidude of uses that have been found for the apricot.  In fact, I have never really thought much about the apricot before- it had never really appeared on my radar- entered my world.  Until Malatya.  Malatya is famous for their apricots.  On Monday, Mustafa called.  After lunch with Habib and Dogan, we went and met him and went for a walk around Malatya.  We went through the market (that Onder had already showed us) and the metal shops and then down into the apricot shops.  He has a friend who owns a shop, and his wife was there and she made us sample one type of dried apricot after another.  It was never ending, and after a filling lunch of lamajan (Turkish pizza) a bit difficult to eat my way through.  There were apricot oils, apricot Turkish delight, apricot kebabs (flavoured with pomegranate, apple and every other fruit you can imagine), apricot soaps, shampoos, lotions ( I did buy some hand cream and it smells delicious) and chocolate covered apricots and those are just the ones I can remember off the top of my head. 

Apricot kebabs

Joe and Mustafa

                 I would be hard pressed to think of a use for apricots that these people have not come up with.  After our time at the shop, we headed into the poor neighbourhood (Mustafa used to work there and I was pleased he took us- it is important to know all sides of a city if you are going to be a resident) so that he could get some photocopying done and we went and had tea and chatted while it was finishing.  I left them drinking tea a bit early as I had to go to see Buglem and hunt for a winter jacket along the way.  I  found a beautiful yellow winter jacket that was sadly out of my price range (although Joe told he that it was ugly and he was glad it was out of my price range, so I guess one of us is happy) but I found another yellow one later on, so he may still lose in the long run if I decide to buy it.  But I am still mulling over it.

Apricots and Turkish delight.

                The week passed in a blur of uneventfulness until Friday when Joe's students from last week plus their Turkish teacher he shares the class with (Feliz- a lovely woman with a musical laugh) picked us up at 4pm and we headed for Elazig.  It was unfortunately too dark to take pictures out the window although the scenery was beautiful from what I can tell.  We went and had kavarma (which I forgot to take a picture of although I could have sworn I did) which was meat baked with vegetables in a clay dish.  It was better than the fish although still not my favourite.  We didn't get into to ELazig until late, parked, walked around and stopped for a hot beverage before heading to Harput- an old historical castle just outside of Elazig with a spectacular view of the city and a lot of history.  Joe and I have plans to go back in daylight hours at some point and actually do a proper mini tour.  We didn't get home until about midnight which was a bit rough before our long weekend hours but it was nice to get some social outlets.

Seafood and Cheese

           Happy Remembrance Day!  A day that is not celebrated in Turkey, although I am not quite sure why.  According to my students, Turkey participated in World War I but not in World War II- they had too many internal conflicts to deal with.  From the bits and scraps I can pick up from their broken English, I look forward to having internet in the house so that I can do a little more research into Turkish history.  We have made a fabulous discovery- and by we, I mean ‘I’, but it is a glorious discovery so I will share undeserved glory with Joe.  Beer!  Walking distance from the house!  Not a pub or anything like that, but a shop with a blue sign (oddly enough right outside the mosque but I will take what I can get) that has a friendly shopkeeper and cold beer.  There really isn’t much for excitement here, and although we will probably continue to buy beer in town, it is nice to know that the locations extend outside the city center.

Kunefe- deep fried cheese in syrup.

             

                 I am continuing to ‘babysit’ Buglem twice a week and she is a little cutie.  Her mother obviously is practicing with her quite often because each time I come she has new things to say (I love you teacher is my favourite so far) and since she is only two and a bit, sometimes we have to bribe her with jellybeans to get any English out of her and sometimes she gets very confused.  She threw a mini fit today when Kubra tried to explain that ‘balik’ is ‘fish’ in English.  She kept insisting it was ‘balik’ and did not like being told otherwise.  Technically she was right, so we pulled out some playdough and changed the topic.  True to what I have encountered so far, the hospitality of Kubra and Ali is fabulous.  They always have food or Turkish coffee or something of the like for me, and often send some home for Joe as well.

                

Trout baked in cheese.

               We finally had another outing.  On Friday night Joe and I were exhausted.  We had gone to the gym and then pretty much done nothing the rest of the day.  I was in pajamas, heating up dinner when Joe’s student Ahmet called.  He had invited us for dinner that night, but since it had been a week and we had heard nothing, we assumed it wasn’t happening (this happens quite regularly here).  However this was not the case, and he would be arriving in fifteen minutes to pick us up.  Muttering unpleasantries, I turned off the stove and went to put on proper clothes and head out into the cold to wait.  He and his friend (another student in Joe’s class) who between the two of them can barely string together enough English for a conversation (they are beginners) pulled up.  We headed about 50km outside of Malatya (driving roughly 150km/hr around winding roads- I tried not to watch the speedometer and was silently grateful that Turks don’t generally consume alcohol) to a town called Surgu- famous for their fish restaurants.  We had trout baked deep in cheese (almost ruining the flavour of the fish) and then kunefe for dessert (the best way I can describe it is deep fried cheese soaking in syrup- decently tasty but not something I would order again).  It was a pleasant enough evening for the amount of conversation we could muster, but after tea and a promise to do this again, they drove us home- a good thing as weekends are tediously long and this one was no exception.

                

           

After dinner selfie.

                  I love teaching English- for the most part my students are enthusiastic and interesting.  They love to chat upstairs inbetween classes and practice their English or just generally joke around.  Usually the other teachers are there too, and so Elif will help translate if need be, but usually it isn’t.  I am pretty good at guessing what someone is trying to say after three years of teaching English.  This week they had me doing Turkish tongue twisters (as payback for the English ones I make them do in class) and I do it.  I figure if they struggle through my classes, laughing at me (in good fun of course) is an encouraging way to make them open up more in class.  However, on occasion you get a class where the students as a whole don’t want to speak English.  They are there for exam prep, and I pity them because they don’t realize that they cant learn the language properly without knowing how to speak.  That’s the natural order of language.  Look at children.  I have never encountered students who want to learn grammar and not speaking before.  Usually it’s all, nothing or speaking.  A bit odd.  By the time I am eight classes in out of eight- no time for food of course, I forget how to spell (prompting one of my students to ask me if English was indeed my first language) and my arm feels like it is going to fall off from writing on and erasing the board all day, but despite the busyness of it, I really enjoy the weekends.  I go home feeling like I have accomplished something and that is a satisfying feeling.

Winter is Coming

          November is upon us- and for the first time in a few years, I must say that it actually feels like November.  Things have started becoming more routine here- days off are fairly regular, gym days, classes, cooking and the like.  I have been on a soup frenzy- cooking a new soup every week and it has been a lot of fun finding new recipes and such.  There have not been any new developments.  I went for a gorgeous walk yesterday and watched the leaves change colour and the sun glisten through the chilly autumn air.  As wonderful a walk as one can get I do imagine. 

               

Just a hint of snow on the mountains

            Last Monday, Mustafa asked us for a favour.  He teaches English at the high school across the street from our house, and he wanted us to come in and teach a class so that his students would perhaps be more enthused to learn English (something I have a feeling will be becoming more common as Gunger has also asked and I assume many more will too).  Although I was not too keen to go back into a high school (I had enough of that with the Japanese kids) we agreed and it was actually a lot of fun.  I have never taught with Joe, so that was interesting in itself as well.  Afterwards the three of us went into town back to Arkadas Café, to meet a couple that was looking for an English speaking babysitter (for lack of a better word) for their 27 month old daughter and expose her to English.  Mustafa had found this couple through a friend, and we were arranging how it would work out.  I agreed to go there on Thursday and meet the little girl and see what they were wanting and then decide if it was something I was interested in doing.

               

The trees and the mountains

             It turns out Thursday was a busy day (even though it was technically my day off) because Mehmet took us to the police station to finally start registering for our residential visa.  This should not have been so complicated but it was.  When we arrived in Turkey (almost two months ago) we paid our entry, got a little piece of paper and then a stamp.  They took the paper for the stamp, but immigration did not understand.  Apparently we needed the piece of paper (which was made redundant by the stamp) that they kept at the airport (no one had informed us thusly) and because Mehmet doesn’t speak English, we kept passing the phone back and forth to Yashar (who was at work) to help us translate.  Fortunately, someone knew somebody in Ankara, and they agreed to process our information.  We went back to the school and filled out the forms- including a copy of a bank statement saying we each had $3000.00  (again, we were not told we needed this money) and that was a bit frustrating as Joe does not have that money in his account.  Onder called to see if I could transfer the money from my account to Joe’s and then back (he apparently does not know of the woes of international bank transfers which I became far too familiar with last year) and I point blank told him it was impossible so they figured something else out.

              

One more- I never tire of fall colours

                  Between running back and forth between buildings trying to sort out paperwork, Habib cooked us lunch- pide firini (Turkish pizza) and it was fabulous.  It is my turn this week to make ‘Canada soup” (Turkish soup is cream based) so that is my task for Thursday this week and we seem to be forming a little lunch club.  We ran to one more building with Dogan after lunch (cutting it close for me to get to this babysitting gig) and filled out more paperwork before I quickly gathered my things and headed out.  IT was raining and miserable out, but I still prefer walking to bussing, so I moved quickly through the streets to my meeting spot with them (the Carrefour) so they could take me to their house- a beautifully furnished apartment about a thirty minute walk from the school.

               

Pide Firini

               The whole family was home, the grandmother made me Turkish coffee, and the mother (Kubra) stayed with me most of it to make sure her daughter was comfortable.  We played and read books (me speaking English, her largely ignoring that fact) for an hour and then Kubra and her husband Ali drove me home.  Busra (the little girl) was very upset she didn’t get to come inside with me, and all in all it was nice to get out of the house and be around people, so I will be going there twice a week to ‘babysit’.   By Friday I was exhausted as my days off had been at work, so Joe and I went to the gym and then I made butter chicken for dinner in anticipation of another long weekend.

Lunch with Dogan and Habib

Moments With Students

Although we have a few disagreements with management about contract details (Joe finally sat down with them on Saturday to go through the whole contract, due to a discrepancy of opinions about an upcoming holiday.  We were supposed to go to Mt. Nemrut this week, but they need us to work.  Seeing as how money is a little tight- what with the joining of the gym- we agreed to work in exchange for an extra two days off whenever we want it, so we are quite pleased with the deal.) Turkish students truly are an enjoyable group of people to teach.  Of course you get the odd class here and there that are too shy to speak, or a few students here and there that are anti-social enough to make things slightly awkward, as a whole they are hard-workers who are very keen to learn English.

               

            I hesitate to write much about my students for confidentiality reasons, but since most of them are university students in their twenties, (thrown in with some teenagers and careered adults) they are also in my age bracket which makes teaching them very pleasant.  My students love to have me read off their names from the class registrar (mostly so they can laugh at my pronunciation, but I figure that is a fair trade off for me occasionally laughing at them) and Turkish students love to keep up a teasing banter within the classroom (both from me and to me) that allows for a more relaxed atmosphere which I am hoping makes them more comfortable to speak English.   Last week was a good week for making friends.  One of the local teachers, Elif, and I are becoming friends ( I hope).  

Coffees and Chocolates

             On Thursday, a few of my students (all girls in their early twenties) invited us (E and I) to go see a movie at the mall.  Naturally I said yes, although the movie in question (Transcendence) is not usually a movie I would pay to see, but making friends requires some sacrifices.  I met them at the mall an hour early and we had coffee (Turkish with a hint of caramel- delicious) and then bought chocolates and chocolate covered dried apricots (a delicious delicacy in Malatya), insisting I take them home for Joe to try.  They got two for one tickets at the cinema (refusing to let me pay) and then we took photos and selfies for half an hour (I never realized the cinema was so exciting, and it is a bit tedious to have your picture taken a thousand times when your nose resembles Rudolph’s and you can barely keep your eyes open.  The movie itself was decent (they cut the movie off halfway through for a ten minute break) although the first half was better than the second. 

                

           We went for dinner afterwards, although the cold had suppressed my appetite and I had already had a donair for lunch.  My limit on fast food for the day, so I had a tea while they ate from the food court and soup when I got home.  We parted ways after dinner, Elif and Pinar heading to the bus stop with me (unnecessary but sweet) and then I came home and collapsed.  It was the first time I have spent time with a big group of girls in ages, and it was a lot of fun.

                

More fall beauty

              Other than my students, you find pockets of English in unexpected places.  The weekends are insane- with classes back to back until 4pm- when I finally have time to grab a quick lunch before my last class.  This Saturday, I went to Kral Doner (so far my favourite doner shop in Malatya) and they recognized me (the perks of being one of the only two nonTurkish people in this city) and put in my order.  I was waiting when one of the cooks called me over and started asking me questions in English, and asking what I want on my doner (this has never happened before) and it was really surprising and really fun at the same time.  I felt a little guilty because my stereotypes of who speak English do not extend to fast food workers- but I am happy to have that stereotype blasted away!  I have also been getting to know Habib better, who runs the canteen upstairs.  Since he doesn’t speak English, I will go have tea with him and practice my Turkish.  The other teachers are always up for a conversation here and there and I recently started a class with a bunch of Afghani students who are planning to come by for tea during the week.  Joe is playing football with the male teachers on Sunday (I have been invited to ‘watch’) so he is getting some outside stimuli as well which is always a good thing.  Hopefully things will continue this way- it is nice making friends.

Autumn Begins

It's starting to feel like fall on the canal street.

The weather is starting to take a turn for the cold.  There is snow on the mountains (granted they are far in the distance) and at 6am on a Saturday, when the alarm goes off and you attempt to crawl out of bed (and your apartment has no heating) in order to go to work and teach six classes back to back, you find yourself cursing the cold and dreading the knowledge that it will indeed be getting colder.  The long weekends (indeed the majority of our weekly hours take place on the weekend) were made further frustrating this past weekend when our schedules got changed three times that day (for that day’s classes). I ended up running back and forth between schools multiple times in order to teach all my classes- which, while good exercise, is not overly enjoyable.  There was no time for lunch, no time for water, no time for anything but running back and forth like a chicken with your head cut off and then teaching class after class after class.  At least I knew this ahead of time.  Joe was given four minutes (count ‘em- 1-2-3-4) notice that he had a new class starting at the other school.  He ran, didn’t plan, taught the class.  Not ideal, but apparently they do this all the time so I suppose we will just have to be ready.  Needless to say, we went to the pub when classes finished that day in an effort to slightly abate the frustration.  Sunday was no better.  They gave me a new first class (adding another run between schools) that wasn’t a first class because Joe had taught them the previous week but no one had bothered to tell us.  It is really irritating to teach the wrong lesson and look like a fool because our managers don’t see the importance in giving us information.  We never know how many students we will have in a new class (prepare for anywhere from 10-30) and in the case of new kids classes this past weekend, we were told to ‘teach whatever you want.’  No curriculum whatsoever.  Needless to say by Sunday afternoon, we were decidedly pooped.  Joe got wrangled in to playing football (soccer) that night (girls don’t play soccer in Turkey) and with a dropping temperature of one degree, I opted to stay home in the warmth rather than go ‘watch’.  I was sound asleep when he got home.

Turkish coffee with a side of Turkish delight.

                

                That brings us to Monday.  It was a lazy morning indeed as we took our time getting ready, only to receive a text from Mustafa that he was going to be in the center that day and would like to meet up.  Naturally we said yes, dropped our bags off at the school (I dropped them off- Joe was too stiff to climb the stairs) and then went for a walk (he showed us some key establishments in Malatya) before ending up at a café for lunch and tea with him and some of his friends.  As per always, time with Mustafa is highly enjoyable, and even when the conversation turned to religion and Joe’s stance as an atheist (something people in this country do not understand) it was a civil conversation that was quite entertaining to listen to.  Mustafa translated for his friends (a few of whom speak decent English but couldn’t quite follow the conversation) and it was quite late by the time we got back to the school to finish lesson planning.  When we got there, however, Elif (one of my local teachers) was in early, so in an effort to make friends, I went for a tea upstairs with her while Joe finished his lessons.  It was by far the most social day we have had so far.

                

              On Tuesday, we decided to join a gym at the hotel not far from us.  They have a pool and a sauna and everything else you need to keep warm for the winter, and although paying six months up front (similar to Indonesia) is extremely painful on the wallet, we decided it was worth it.  Hopefully we will be able to get our money’s worth out of the place.

              

           

Sunset from the school windows

              Other than that there are just the other little quirks that are associated with living overseas.  I sneakily managed to figure out if my students drink beer or think it’s a sin into a few of my lesson plans, and I must say that I am pleasantly surprised when they do, and can sense them being raised a few notches on my ‘this student is  a good person list’.  A little biased I am fully aware, but alas.  There have also been some charming disagreements with management (we try and avoid speaking to one of our bosses at all costs, although the others are fine) including working a six day week (again, Joe was given last minute notice as to a new class that put him on a six day week) and when I went to inform said boss that our contract clearly stated (twice) that we were working five day weeks (barring sickness or holiday or some other need to cover a class in which case we would be flexible).  He made a big deal of digging up the contract and finding it and then informing me that this was not how things were usually done (to which the smart mouth side of me wanted to reply that that was not my problem- I didn’t write the contract and I would have had absolutely no way of knowing how things were ‘usually done’ but I decided it would not be in my best interest to open my mouth) but he did say that they would fix the problem, so we shall wait and see if he plots some sort of revenge on that.  I will feel a lot more secure in the job once our work visas are firmly in place.  They have already tried to convince Joe that with our twelve month visa we would be here until next November- an idea Joe quickly nipped in the bud, but we shall see.  We didn’t expect to see a company more disorganised than EF and we have been unpleasantly surprised thus far.

Pay Day and Dinner Out

                   I have been enjoying coffee from my Grand Bazaar mug in the mornings!  They told me it was handcrafted, but for all I know it was produced in a factory in China and then passed off as one of a kind, but I prefer to assume they were telling me the truth when I bought it- and I did make sure to purchase one that didn’t have any similar designs sitting up on the shelves.  Joe and I arrived back home, and I went out to buy supplies to use my new spices for dinner (I followed one of my old and faithful recipes but added some Ottoman spice to it.  Worked out beautifully.)  We lazed about- showering off the tediously long journey and relaxing before having to head into work the next day.  We arrived, chatted with the staff, uploaded photos and caught up on internet stuff before I started lesson planning and Joe went home.  

              We weren’t to be paid until Friday leaving me- for the first time in my life- with about $15.00 (30 TL) to last me two days.  Now, this wasn’t the end of the world, but by the end of Wed, I was seriously considering spending 20TL on a bottle of wine and just not eating for a couple of days.  There have been ongoing visa issues- due to the spelling of my name- since we arrived in Turkey.  To make a long and tedious version slightly shorter, this has resulted in my needing a new birth certificate, new ‘parchments’ (not documents- be very careful in word usage) and the realization that Canadian bureaucracy is equally a big pain in the ass as Turkish bureaucracy.  My wonderful parents have been aiding me in every sense of the word with the filling out of forms, the long phone calls and the trips to SFU to attempt to sort all this out.  We discovered that although I authorized my father to drop off the ‘parchments’, I in fact didn’t authorize him to pick them up.  Apparently a lot of fake dads (with the same last name as students) try and pick up parchments for no reason, thus meriting this kind of ‘security’ check.  Alas, when I re-emailed them, my use of the word ‘parchments’ was ambiguous (I referred to them as documents), resulting in my clogging up the inbox at SFU simply so they could be handed over to the person who was already authorized to drop them off.  Tedious- and keep in mind there is a slight time crunch.  Alas, all that has come through and now all there is to do is wait and pray that the documents (the originals now have to be mailed over- much to my utter dismay and fear at their loss and repetition of this entire process) make it safe and sound to Turkey.  

   

                 By the time payday arrived (I was practical and sustained from buying a bottle of wine), we were ready for a nice meal out and a beer run.  We went into the school to finish lesson planning and patiently wait until 2 pm (it had been nine weeks since I was last paid- the longest I have gone without a steady income in many a moon).  During that time, we were messaging Mustafa (I mentioned him before – we met on a bus) and he informed us that we were invited to his house for dinner and that rejection of any sort would be met with resentment.  He was joking, but we got the point.  Although this threw a wrench in otherwise lovely evening plans, we agreed to go. 

            Now normally we would bring a bottle of wine to dinner, but one does not do that with a Muslim family, so we decided to pick up a bouquet of flowers.  I told the saleslady my price point (as I have no idea what the names of flowers are in Turkish) and she put together a beautiful bouquet of flowers, complete with ladybug stickers, glitter and perfume…  Joe and I were both confused about the perfume as flowers typically have a lovely scent, and this spray made the odor unbearable.  We picked up a couple beers, grabbed a donair, and tried not to smell the flowers the whole way home.  We had about an hour to relax before heading off to dinner, and Mustafa met us at the edge of his complex.  Only about 300m away, it has about fifteen towers or so.  We followed him to find his daughter, Asya (who is about 7) and then went upstairs.  In Turkish culture, you leave your shoes outside the door and then Asya went and brought us ‘house shoes’.  Due to the prime minster being in town, his wife (Sibel) was running late, so while Asya watched TV, we went onto the balcony and has a Turkish/English discussion about linguistics which was a lot of fun.  Joe and I also made faces at Asya everytime we saw her looking at us, and she would smile and wave.  

              Sibel came home and frantically started cooking- as I have mentioned before, it is a very male dominated culture here and the men don't cook or clean. ( I felt terrible, but she wouldn’t let me help, and she didn’t speak English so it was hard to convince her otherwise.)  Dinner was a mixture of small fish (kinda like anchovies- don’t know the name for them) battered and baked, salad, bread and the best pickles ever.  There were no dinner plates- just forks to transfer food from communal plates to your mouth- and a small plate for the fish bones. Conversation ranged from politics to philosophy to religion to language to relationships and jokes.  

              Mustafa is an excellent conversationalist, and his wife (a philosophy major) was quite interesting when he helped translate for her.  We ignored their protests and helped clear the table, and then Sibel made Turkish coffee (the best Turkish coffee we have had- a special brand that you can only buy in certain shops) and they smoked like chimneys on the balcony and we continued chatting.  After coffee was tea (lots of tea) and although Joe and I had to work early the next morning, we didn’t manage to leave until about 11:30 pm.  Sibel waited at the door until we were out of sight (Turks never close the door until they can no longer see their company)  Mustafa walked us home and Joe asked him about the conflict in Kobane (it is very interesting to her Turks opinions on the matter.) and he said that he would worry about it if they got in and made it Ulfa (the big town between here and the border).  Until then it was Ulfa’s problem.  Turks are very private people, not willing to get into the affairs of others willingly, although the Kurds are more willing to fight, and they firmly seem to believe their government is right in staying out of it.  Granted we haven't talked to any Kurds, although I imagine their opinions differ.

            When we got back to the house, there were police cars everywhere.  Mustafa greeted them with a traditional Arabic/Islamic greeting (to get on their good side he said) and there were crowds of people outside one of the towers- including the mayor.  Mustafa deduced that someone must have died (been martyred) in the fighting near Kobane and that they were either bringing his body back (why all the helicopters are flying overhead all the time) or informing the family.  Either way, it was a rather dramatic end to the night and the closest we have come (and probably will come) to the conflict itself.  It didn't mar the evening though.  It merely cemented the fact that we are not in Kansas anymore.

               It was a lovely evening of Turkish hospitality at it's finest.

** I'm sorry there are not many photos.  I do not know Mustafa or Sibel well enough yet to be comfortable asking if I could take photos of them.