Last day in Istanbul.

My last day starts just like the fırst day of my stay in Istanbul minus Ayşegül. An elaborate breakfast prepared by Ahmet and Nevin. It has been snowing since yesterday, it is not a pretty view, mud mixed wıth snow. People are out and about, public transportation running smoothly, there are some delays on the highways but that is expected.

An impromptu decision brought me to Istanbul. My friends have been asking me when or  if I would ever come to Istanbul on the Facebook. I responded with same excuses. If I can only get over the flight anxiety etc. We have a sayıng that goes like "breakıng the leg of the devil" which I could not do last few years.

I used to be an impulsive young woman, nowadays I am more cautious. It is hard to believe but true. I do think before I make a decision. Coming to Istanbul was not one of those moments. My imagination was running wild. I pictured Istanbul rainy, noıiy, difficult and capricious. All of a sudden, I wanted to be an Istanbulian. I went online to THY page, bought my ticket and I broke the leg of the devil..

I had a remarkable time ın Istanbul. Friends, family and just being in Istanbul made me enjoy lıfe even more.

I will miss, impromptu gatherings with my friends. It takes a phone call to get 6 or 8 together. Next is having great time in a coffee shop somewhere in Istanbul. Nothing stops us when it comes to MAVRA atmak which means talking about nothing for several hours. I will miss my family members hugging, kissing me and believing that they are happy to see me! I will miss my brother and his wife Nevin a lot wıth their UFO ideas, his lectures, and his great sense of humor. Although we do not agree on a lot of things, I seemed to enjoy his discussions. I started to believe that America is beiınd in every evil ın the world wıth their consumerism and war industry.

I will miss Aygün and her sincere friendship.

Tomorrow mornıng I will say good bye to all. I already feel the heaviness in my heart. I am open to dynamics of the societies. However, I do not want Türkiye to change with times.  I want to keep our unique place in  history and geography

Potpouiri of my stay....

I have 3 more days left in Istanbul. I have done a lot while I was here. There were couple of things I made a point of doing. Seeing my aunts and uncle, spending time with my brother, visiting a Bikram Yoga studio that has recently opened in Istanbul. I did it all. As you may already know that I am a fan of Bikram yoga. I like the discipline, poses and the heat of the room. I also made some good friend there. Bikram yoga makes me challenge myself every day.

I am so happy that I got to spend this time here with my friends and family. I connect with them almost everyday through the usual ways a lot of us connect with each other now a days.

Istanbul is like a beautiful woman....

It is unpredictable, unexpected, moody and beautiful. Istanbul is a sexy city. I feel I am challenged by Istanbul. I must please Istanbul. I should touch Istanbul way lovers touch each other, gently, generously with no inhibitions. I should keep my eyes all over Istanbul, I should inhale Istanbul. I feel jealous if I am not out and about and adoring Istanbul. I should be the only lover she has. So, every day I walk the streets, I take in the sceenes, I smile at Istanbul hoping that she will see me.

Does Istanbul care how I feel about her? Probably not and that makes me work even harder to please Istanbul.

What is nostalgia...

I really do not have any yearning for the past. However, I lived a nostalgic weekend. It started with my high school classmates meeting in the cafeteria of our school. I was very touched when my very close friends showed up for the lunch. We were 13 years old young girls when we arrived in this building which was build for 6 daughters of an Ottoman Emperor. Our back yard was the Bosphourus, I mean that literally. Classrooms had huge marble carved fireplaces, high ceilings were adorned by gilded hand paintings of sceneries etc. It was a simple pleasure to go to school every day. We talked about our days and our teachers. Tulin was most vivid in her description of experiences we had with the teachers. She played the piano. Beyhan was always a lady and preferred to listen, then Rengin arrived with her usual hava. She was delightful as always and told us all about her boyfriends and how she mixed and match them. Finally got her love of her life to propose to her. Sibel made me remember the disco scene we frequented in Istanbul. I loved to dance.  Asuman and Zuhal talk about the year they had to repeat and how happy they were to be together that year. Four and a half hours of sheer fun we had. We had some lunch but do not remember what. Each one of us earned our place in the society as independent women with professions. We are mothers with successful, healthy, happy families. We are ATATURK'S DAUGHTERS.

I have big plans this Sunday. We are going to visit our aunt (paternal side) Dr. Huceste Kumcuoglu (Dinccag) who is 95 years old. Eldest member from my Dinccag side. She lives with her care giver near to her sons Ali and Tunc. She is a doctor of internal medicine, graduating in 1945. We were 8, including our uncle's son Mustafa, Ibrahim Dinccag with his fiance who is a great grand son of the grand uncle from Bafra. We all took turns interviewing my aunt,  trying to find out as much as possible about my family's background. My aunt was in good spirit, she told us about her years in medical school which corresponded to World War II. University of Istanbul was strengthened with the German professors who ran away from Nazi Germany. She says, they were great educators with great sense of humor. They used translators in the classrooms, eventually most of them spoke Turkish and became Turkish citizens. She has 3 classmates alive, they call each other everyday to talk about their blood pressure and sugar levels. I will not take your time with other details but one story I would like to share.

When one of her professor passed away, they found out that he wanted to be buried in a Muslim cemetery. Permission was denied by the government. Luckily she says, one of his student wrote to the ministry of health claiming that professor was a Muslim without really declaring it. His student claimed that professor was heard memorizing and repeating kelimei shaadet. After several more bureaucratic steps and correspondence professor was given permission to be buried in the cemetery of his choice.

I have one more week left in Istanbul.

I would like to define nostalgia as a general interest in the past in its personalities and events rather than lusting or yearning for the past.

Istanbul invites me to lunch and dinner every day and I can not say NO Thanks:)

A while ago, I decided that food was not going to be important part of my life. So, I stopped cooking. Tanju did not take it seriously at first; He thought, I bet, this phase will pass too, just like drinking wheat grass and eating tofu or doing yoga 3 hours a day. I have not cooked anything in the last 3 months. Those of you wondering what we eat, Tanju eats frozen food mostly from the brand called "Lean Cuisine". They are not bad at all. I eat whatever I find around some fruit, apple sauce or at  Tanju's recommendation I eat Lean Cuisine as well. Lean Cuisine is made by Nestlé which also makes Beneful that Rusty eats. So Tanju and Rusty are both being fed by Nestlé.

When I left Istanbul in 1976, eating out meant going to kebab houses or rarely going to a fish restaurant so my parents could drink rakı and socialize with their friends. Those were not that much fun for me and my brother. We would fall a sleep on our chairs. There were also restaurants for lunch only, frequented by the area merchants and businessmen.  I remember going to one of those in Beyoğlu with my father. Chef was a big guy hold a large spoon (I had never seen such large spoon before) standing behind the casserole trays he cooked that morning. It was noisy and crowded. There were only men dressed in ties and suits. Chef handled the large pieces of lamb with his hand to split into exact portions for the patrons. It is a view that I will never forget. I am not sure I ate anything, I was very intimidated.

Well, in Istanbul I am making up for the last 3 months and also for my childhood. I am experiencing a culinary feast in Istanbul. You all know by now that I spend most of my time meeting friends and having many cups of tea and coffee with delicious pastries. Bakeries are very good and readily available almost every corner on every street. Even the chains like Coffee House does a great job. One day Ayşegül and I had pastry filled with leeks and goat cheese and seared on a pan. It was yummy. Later that week I had that infamous expensive lunch in Nişantaşı. My friends and I justified the price by saying "it tasted very good, you could actually taste each piece of fish":)
When I went to Kadıköy to visit Sevil and Şükran, I had home cooked meal by Sevil, with red lentil soup hot red pepper and butter sauce on top followed by stuffed mushrooms and chicken börek finally so sweet pumpkin desert topped with crushed walnuts. The other night, I was invited to dinner by my friend Zuhal. She is a very gracious host. The dinner was home cooking at its best. I have not had just great rice pilav with herbs for a long time. Ellerinize sağlık arkadaşlarım!

The latest trend in Istanbul is esnaf(merchant) restaurants. Those are where area merchant went to eat lunch in olden days. One can find it anywhere these days, does not have to be business area. They offer traditional dishes with a twist like pesto sauce etc. It is hard to mess up home cooking. One needs good ingredients to get the results.

One really stood out was called Subaşı in Grand Bazaar. This one is an authentic merchant restaurant the way my father visited. There is no menu, you can look and point out the dish you would like to have. I had Sebze Türlü (slow stewed mixed vegetables with rice and Manda yogurt. The other one I really enjoyed called Kantin in Nisantaşı. It is in an apartment building, menu is written on a black board. It is simple yet each dish sounds so very appetizing.   Afiyet olsun Istanbul.

Impressions I would like to share...

Thanks to Aygün, I get to see something new almost everyday. My days already filled with going around the city, having tea with friends and family members. Aygün makes each day a little bit more special. She has a great way of making situations more tolerable with a Nasreddin Hodja story or a proverb that fits perfectly. She was telling me about a conversation with her daughter the other day. It goes like this..

Idil (daughter)   So what are the plans today with lale?
Aygun                Lale would like to shop for a leather dress, I will take her to Zeytinburnu
                          (Leather fashion manufacturing area)
Idil                    Ohh, sounds nice. Get me a dress too.

Aygun continues telling me a Hodja story.:

One day, Hodja says to town people that he is going to market. He blows his whistle and yells  if anyone would like to place an order to let him know. People place their orders with him according to their needs from the market. And kids of the village come and ask him to buy whistles for them. One young boy comes by as well and says here is 50 kuruş(cents) and please get me a whistle. Next day hodja comes back from the market and blows his whistle to let the village that he is back. The kids come to ask for their whistles. He takes out a whistle from his pocket and hands it out to the kid who paid for the order and says "you get to blow the whistle if you paid for it"  That's where "Parayı veren düdüğü çalar." in Turkish comes from. (One who pays the piper calls the tune) Apparently, that was the end of that conversation.
 
The other day I noticed that we Turks can express ourselves in such detail that it becomes poetic. Instead of saying that idea is old, they describe it with the change of seasons.  I also noticed that the word "şey" which is literally means "thing" is capable of describing a lot. One can actually make a whole sentence around the word "şey." Get me the şey from the şey and put it in the şey.. In a magical way, I know what to pick and where to put "it".

I love to listen to the Classical Turkish Music. I was lucky enough to be invited to a private concert by the Bosphorous University Alumni Chorous the other night. Dr. Alâeddin Yavaşca, a very famous composer and lyricist was present. Thanks Belgin! It was swell.

All the songs are based on being in love. Love is usually described with an organ of the body, mostly eyes, or a season, mostly spring time, one cries to the point blood replaces their tears for the love of their lives.

One of the song talks about falling in love with a 13 years old girl.


It goes like this:*


she wears a scarf on her beautiful head
her side locks reach down to her eyebrows that look like the new moon
she is just 13, 14 years old
charming, amorus, beautiful village girl


In the morning when a nightingale sings in the garden
she picks roses in bunches
wearing a fragrant hyacinth on her lapel
village girl whose eyes are darkened wıth kohl


come, beautiful village girl, let me take you and elope
let me sprinkle gold on your fancy bridal veil
let me escape these lands with you 
charming, amorous, beautiful village girl


Obviously, this song is about lusting after a young girl, if you know what I mean. However, I also know that it is a very old song and that time girls married by 16 years old.

I had the most fun the other night watching a tv show called "You got Talent". It would be more apropriate to call it "People with no Talent". I have never seen so many untalented people putting them through horrible situations to compete in front of millions. There was a a man who is in his late 60's riding a bike on stage. He rides his bike in circles as the stage permits first few minutes. Then he stands on one pedal and balances himself for a few seconds. Then he starts pedaling his bike backward and runs into the stage lighting and mirrors that were strategically placed. Background music is Black sea folk music. With the stage accident, they all stop all of a sudden. The whole situation is ridiculous. He is eliminated by three judges who are not very articulate either. Later on a young guy comes on stage starts dancing to hip hop music. Music is good and his moves are funny. Judges are happy to see him. One asks his age. He is 15 years old. They ask him about his school and his grades. He says he is failing all his classes, he got low grades in math and geometry he adds that it is his destiny. He hopes that his teacher will hear him give him passing grades after this show. The audience starts applauding him. Camera turns to audience and young girls are waving at him and trying to get his attention. Jury members approve.  I do not know who to be angry at.  My country is full of ironies. I think that is the word best describes Turkiye.


* Original Turkish lyrics


Yemeni bağlamış telli başına
Zülüfleri düşmüş hilal kaşına
Yeni girmiş onüç ondört yaşına
Edalı işveli köylü güzeli


Sabah olmuş öter bahçede bülbül
Durmayıp devşirir demet demet gül
Takınmış göğsüne kokulu sünbül
Gözleri sürmeli köylü güzeli


Gel seni köylü kız alıp kaçayım
Telli duvağına altın saçayım
Seni bu diyardan alıp kaçayım
Edalı işveli köylü güzeli

Take the ferry to Kadıkoy..

I stand out with my turquoise colored coat in the crowd in the coffee shop. Most people prefer to wear black, dark black and gray. My phone rings, Sevil (a friend for 40 years) asks me to cross the bridge to the Antolian side. "Enough is enough" she says. I accept the invitation gleefully. It is a giddy feeling when you are wanted. I feel like a celebrity in Istanbul. After all, it is much more fun to be with friends.

I assure Şükran (Sevil's sister) and Sevil that I can take the ferry across, so they don't have to pick me up. I'll be there, I say.

I embark on a walk towards the Besiktaş ferry pier after I hang up the phone. I keep walking. I am familiar withe area but have not lived here before. Somehow I know I am in the right direction. I also get my groove back. I expertly maneuver around the other pedestrians. Right, left another right and I am ahead of everyone else. I walk steadily. My eyes travels around with the speed I walk. My hunting skills are in full gear. I kind of sniff my way to the right direction.

Throughout my walk, I think to myself that a lot has changed in the area, since the days and also nothing has changed in the area. It is the same Besiktaş market place it has always been with more neon lights, more stores selling electronics etc. combined with familiar smell of fish, bakeries, kebab houses, people and some trash mixed in. I feel better with the nostalgic familiarity.

I hurry towards the boats waiting by the pier. I buy a token for 2 TL and I jump in just before it takes off. I find my seat next to a young girl. I am not the young girl I used to be but I am now an Istanbulian in every age.

Back in Istanbul..

Bodrum was whirl wind trip. Lots of chatting, lots of tea and great food. Highlight of my trip was meeting my cousin's son Kaya. He is 7 years old, very handsome smart boy. He is growing up in a nice environment in Bodrum. They have a beautiful house surrounded by tangerine trees. They share the land with several cats, dogs, chicken and other creatures living near by. Our flight is late in the evening. I am looking forward getting back to Istanbul.

Me and myself in the apartment. I don't know what to do with myself. I try to turn on the TV but can not figure out the remote control devices. I finally get the picture and the sound at the same time on the screen. It is nice to have some sound around me. I calm down and decide to do some house keeping when I wake up.

Zeki Muren

Second day in Bodrum and Şule has joined us for the weekend. Are we the Turkish Golden Girls? Well, maybe, we are about the same age, have similar tastes and really enjoy each others company.

I did not have internet connection when I woke up this morning for the reasons I can not figure out. We have been to Vodafon store  3 times in the last few days. The staff acts very knowledgeable. A good looking young man assured us earlier that I would have internet connection the whole week  after paying kontür price of 25 TL.

Every night I go to sleep thinking that I paid enough to Vodafon to last me for  a week of internet access to find out next morning I cannot connect. It has been a frustrating experience and it is costing me a lot. The word "KONTÜR" is engraved to their vocabulary of their employees.  They keep repeating it relentlessly.

We drive by the tangerine groves. It must be the season, tree branches are reaching to the ground with the weight of the tangerines. We see the seasonal workers picking up the fruit. We go through narrow streets making many right and left turns. I lost count. We stop by my cousin's veterinarian clinic and give him a hug and meet his new puppy pointer named Patato.  

After a brief chat,  we are on our way to Zeki Müren's house. I am pretty sure my Turkish friends know who I am talking about. Just in case you don't know about him; He was a a prominent singer, composer and actor. He dressed effeminately - think Liberace-, wearing large, ornate rings and heavy make up, throughout his very successful career as a singer. He had a voice of an angel and perfection of an opera singer. He was a cultural icon and loved by everyone. 

He lived the second half of his life  in a two level house in Bodrum. It is now turned into a museum.  The house which is close to the water and its decoration are modest when compared to his fame. His painting are displayed on the walls of the house and they are very good abstract water colors.My mom was a great fan of Zeki Müren. I remember a conversation with my mother when I was about 17 years old. It went like this:

- Anne did you know Zeki Müren is gay?

- No way he is an artist with great talent.

- Anne look at him.. don't you see the make up, bouffant hair style and manicured hands?

 -No way, he is an artist. He has to do those things to look good on stage.

-Anne, he wears pink beaded blouses.

-No way, he is an artist..

I couldn't convince her. When I think of it now I am glad I did not.

Bodrum.. Here I come

As we sit in the plane,  the third passenger next to us huddles into her seat. She is a chatty young lady. Immediately, she starts telling us her life story. She has done a lot for her age, 38 she offers without us asking.  Aygün is nice enough to listen and nod her head in agreement about the stuff she talks about. I am not interested.

I wake up to a million dollar view of Bodrum from my short nap. Blue skies, the Aegean, so picturesque!  It is a bit chilly outside. This place is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. There is not much to say, I am in Bodrum.

Morning starts with a nice breakfast. later Aygün goes off to run errands and I work the phones. It is amazing that I have so many friends in this little town. Each is from a different era of my life. This is too emotional. I am not sure how to handle each. I have my cousin Ahmet who is a well known veterinarian in Bodrum. I have not seen for many years. He has a 5 year old son whom I am looking forward to meet. That connection is from my childhood.

I have another high school friend living in Bodrum whom I haven't seen since the school days. There is a couple who has been our friends since we just got married. That means pre-America days. I  feel tired already thinking about the emotional ride I have to take.

Beyoglu to Bodrum. Nerden nereye???...

Yesterday I woke up to a beautiful day in Istanbul. I am going to fly to Bodrum with Aygün. We have four hours free before the flight. I suggested that we walk around Beyoğlu. We walk about 2.5 hours. Aygün is a very resourceful person. She is married to my cousin Ali. I let myself in her hands when we are together.  We have a saying in the family that "every family should have an Aygün" to survive in Istanbul. She know what, when, how to do almost everything.

We take the bus to Taksim Square - think the Union Square of NYC -. We walk down the main street - think Broadway -. It is also the oldest parts of Istanbul. It used to known as Pera from the Greek word Πέραν meaning across from the old city separated by the Golden Horn. In Turkish, it was called Beyoğlu because of Signor Gritti's* mansion that was located near today's Taksim Square. Those who watch Muhteşem Yüzyıl will remember who Signor Gritti was.

Streets are narrow. They end unexpectedly or crossed by another street which connects you to a passage etc. Narrow streets end unexpectedly and start again somewhere else. The area is like a spider web. I think Byzantines liked conspiracy and there were a lot of distrust to each other etc. 

Beyoğlu and its surrounding areas were built mostly by the minorities of the Ottoman Empire.  One can still see their influence today.**

Our stroll takes us from İstiklal Caddesi to Serdar-ı Ekrem Street and by the German Hıgh School. We take a coffee break at a place called LITERA which has a 180 degrees panoromic view of Istanbul. Aygün knows all the tall buildings where you can see Istanbul.

From there on we walk to the Galata kulesi area visiting designer boutiques on the way. That area brings us to Bankalar Caddesi, a narrow street which used to have headquarters of the all the major banks built by Italians during the Ottoman years.

We end up in Karaköy where we take the tram to Kabataş. Kudos to Lale for taking the public transportation all over Istanbul.

Not much has changed in and around Beyogğu, I am happy to report. Actually I find that area has improved a lot. We are chatting while we walk and cross the streets, enter the stores. I feel like "The Girl from Istanbul" I used to be- fearless and carefree. I am hopping from one cobblestone to the another easily. What a freedom! I am so glad to be in Istanbul. I am so glad to be part of this culture.

We are in the THY flight to Bodrum. Thanks to great public transportation we made it to the flight on time without any major hassle. More to come my friends.....

*Beyoğlu means "Son of the Bey (Doge) of Venice", referring to Lodovico Gritti (alternatively known as Alvise Gritti among the Venetians), The area was the base of European merchants, particularly from Genoa and Venice. Following the Fourth Crusade in 1204, and during the Latin Empire of Constantinople (1204–1261), the Venetians were more prominent in Pera. The Dominican Church of St. Paul (1233), today known as the Arap Camii, is from this period. In 1273, Pera was given to the Republic of Genoa by the Byzantine Emperor Michael VIII Palaeologus in return for Genoa's support of the Empire after the Fourth Crusade. In 1348 the Genoese built the famous Galata Tower, one of the most prominent landmarks of Istanbul. Pera (Galata) remained under Genoese control until May 29, 1453 when Constantinople was conquered by Sultan Mehmed II who allowed the Genoese to return back to the city, but Galata was no longer run by a Genoese Podestà.

  

**In the 19th Century, it became home to many European traders, and housed many embassies, especially along the Grande Rue de Péra (today İstiklâl Caddesi). The presence of such a prominent European population - commonly referred to as Levantines - made it the most Westernized part of İstanbul, especially when compared to the Old City at the other side of the Golden Horn, and allowed for introduction of modern technology, fashion, and arts.  

(from Wikipedia)

A Day by the Bosphorus

The weather has not changed ever since I arrived in Istanbul. It is rainy, foggy and sky is gray at all times. Just the way I like it. 

My mother loved Istanbul when it was rainy and foggy. She said wolves which was her maiden name, love rainy and foggy days. My feeling must have a lot to do with that.

My day started just like yesterday. Ayşegül and I talked about what to do for breakfast and got ready for the day. Phone rings and my high school friend Zuhal says that the day belongs to me. The waves of feelings are going through my mind and body. She is my friend for the last 40 years. We were in a group of students in Ataturk Kız Lisesi (girl's high school) assigned to 1B class. The only common thing among us that our elective foreign language was German.  I ended in that class because the English language classes were filled. I remember sitting next to Zuhal first day and feeling really comfortable. I never forgot her and that feeling rest of my life.

She says she is going to be in front of the building in 10 minutes, Ayşegül and I rush down to the lobby. It is pouring down in Istanbul. I am not sure if the wolves like that much rain.

She drives us to a place to have our morning coffee and catch up on the years that we have not seen each other. As we find a table and sit down we start kaynatmaya (chatting to the point it boils). We offer each other intimate information about our kids, husbands, ourselves and mutual acquaintances. She  has to know everything and I have to know all about her. In the meantime, we take turns to explain some of the things we talk about to Ayşegül. I can see that she is amused about the whole situation.

Ayşegül splits from us and I ask Zuhal to drive us by the Bosphorus. We start from the very beginning in  Ortaköy and drive all the way to Sarıyer where the Bosphorus meets Black Sea. It is a long drive, two way street that goes between the water and the historic houses.  Water is choppy. It is emerald green and gray mix. The water is caressing the boats that are lined next to each other on the shore.

I am very happy to see that not much has changed in the neighborhoods we pass by. I see the familiar pastry shops, restaurants, apartment buildings, little parks, boats, tiny streets.

The Bosphorus is breathtakingly beautiful even on a day only the wolves were happy to have.

First full day in the city

Tuesday morning starts with a breakfast with Ayşegül, again. She is a beautiful young lady with a mild smile. She says she will spend the day with me. We stop by the hair dresser and get a wash and blow dry on the way to Nişantaşı. It is a fancy area which can described as the 5th Avenue of Istanbul. It is in a walking distance from the the apartment. She suggests to take a short cut by climbing a few steps. We start climbing but I don't see where they end where she is pointing at up there.   She says she has counted 180 steps, and cheerfully adds that I can do it. We climb the steps one by one to reach the top. 


Then a steep hill awaits us. We keep walking up and chatting. This is a residential area. Both sides of the street lined up with mid size apartment buildings that were probably built in the 1970s.  Each building has a name like Lale Apartmanı, Cevdet Koçer Apartmanı as if they were named represent the strength or personality of the property's owner.

Finally, I see  the boutique signs:)  My hunter instincts are in full gear. I want to visit each and every one of them. I am now in heaven. Leather jackets, coats, shoes, frilly dresses etc. adorn the storefronts. Each offers something better than the other. I try on a leather jacket and like it very much but this is just a start we will look further.

Aygün meets us at a restaurant that Ayşegül wanted to try. It is a nicely, simply decorated restaurant with a pub feeling. Lots of nice looking ladies with expensive outfits having lunch.  There is hardly any man in the whole place. Actually there was only one maybe two guys in the place. I suspect that this place have very small portions that are expensive. Eventually I find out that it is both.

I had the most expensive soup of my life in Nişantaşı. You, my friends will never know how much I paid for a cup of soup. Because it is an embarrassing amount.

My brother and Nevin came over to have dinner with us. Ayşegül and I decide that we can not afford to go out to dinner. We made fettuccine with marinara sauce and had a wonderful time laughing and reminiscing old times.

OMG!

My brother and Nevin live in a suburb of İstanbul.  My dear brother gently lets me know that he is going to deliver my luggage to Ayşegül's (his daughter/my niece) apartment sometime in the afternoon before he leaves for the hospital. I will stay with her for the next few days which is going to be a great treat for me. I will be in a luxury apartment in a fashionable part of the city. OMG…It is so cool.

Ayşegül and I decide to take the express bus from Bahçeşehir to the Taksim Square after breakfast. Public transport is the way to go around in İstanbul. We get to our destination in 35 minutes. I have been hearing from friends that traffic is worse than before in İstanbul. I convinced myself that it is just a rumor, an exaggeration by the people who are not familiar with İstanbul which never had a good traffic in the first place.  We hop off the bus feeling good.

I follow Ayşegül who immediately waves down a taxi to take us to her apartment. We settle down comfortably in the cab but my confidence in the İstanbul traffic starts to wane quickly because we have not moved for the 20 minutes or so.  I suggest that we should get off the taxi and just walk.  Ayşegül does not think it is a good idea. So we sit quietly. I can feel the driver is getting impatient with the traffic and he says he is sorry that he took us. But he says he tries not to be choosy when he picks up his fares! Then he goes "Everyone deserves a fair chance after all". Ayşegül chimes in with agreement that's how it should be.  I feel threatened but keep quiet.  We are moving very slowly.  Ayşegül asks the driver make a right turn, all of a sudden traffic opens up as if  it was never congested. İstanbul!

I am not familiar wıth the area but I have a general idea where we are. We stop in front of a recently built skyscraper. Ayşegül opens the doors with her magic card and off we are to the 13th floor. Her apartment is beautiful, wıth a million dollar view of Bosphorous.  In meantime, I work the phones and Aygün is coming to pick me up to meet Nesrin who is also a very good friend and married to my other cousin in a couple of hours in Ortaköy.

I surf the web and check in with one of my favorite sites, Pomegranate Vintage to see what is new there. It is only 2 o'clock ın the afternoon when we meet Nesrın. It feels good to be friends. We walk by the street vendors who are hawking. Aygun responds "yok, yok teşekkürler" (no, thank you) One of them shouts back that he appreciates her saying thank you. These guys are funny but he probably genuinely appreciates it.

We are at a coffee house/ bar with Xmas tree in its midst in Ortaköy by the Bosphorus. Tankers are cruising up and down. Kisses, hugs and without losing any time, we start chatting, pouring our hearts out to each other for the next 3 hours with the waiter pouring tea or coffee in our cups.  We order pastries and fruit tarts but never stop chatting.

Sunday Breakfast...

My brother is a foodie. He loves to cook and feed people. He knows a lot about food. So Sunday breakfast is a huge productıon between him and Nevin. I do not need to go into details just use your imaginatıon. This might help --->
Turks are so much into food. All the TV channels have cooking programs. It is food everywhere. I do not want to eat anything next few days.

We start talking about about extraterrestrial forces etc which I never believed  in. I have not even entertained the idea that such things may exist.  My brother and Nevin are great believers of that stuff. I do not feel comfortable because I am not good at agreeing with things that I do not believe or support. I start feeling hot and sweaty and have to fınd a way to get out of this discussion.

My niece, Ayşegül, who is an architect and lives in Berlin was also in Istanbul for a project. It is good that she shot two birds with one stone: visiting her family for new years and working on her project. I got to see her too.

In the afternoon, we decide to visit some family.  Most of the conversations wıth the family members starts simply by exchanging pleasantries like "how are you?","I am fine, thank God (Allaha şükür)" etc. It then continues by asking how things are with the rest of the famıly members. Another 15 minutes goes by exchanging  same pleasantries.  

In the meantime, the youngest of the household sets up a Turkish tea table which is ornate with homemade pastries mostly filled wıth feta cheese, parsley, potatoes, spinach. There is a pumpkın desert with walnuts, stuffed grape leaves, mixed pickles, tahini pastry (I love it!). Tea is served in tiny glasses and well brewed, for some reason called the color of rabbit's blood.  I drink 3 cups and eat a piece of everythıng, I praise the pickle the most whıle I eat and they offer to pickle some veggies for me and I feverishly thank them and

Conversation moves to more serious subjects like politics and how religion is taking over, what it means to be a Muslım, how the USA is manipulating the Turkish government. I keep quiet because I am really not well informed about this stuff. However,I listen to them with renewed ınterest, maybe I learn somethıng new but sounds like 't is the same old stuff.  America is busy plotting against Turkey as if they have nothing better to do:)

We are stuffed and teaed out. Really great food, with really good people. It is time to say byes and we exchange the same pleasantries for the third time within two hours.  Kisses on the cheeks and hands if they are elderly.

Four of us huddle back in the car and I say I can not eat dinner, however that opens up the conversation what to have for dinner. My brother offers several choices and I can not help but think about  food agaın. This is getting scary. We are home and four of us are discussing seriously dinner agaın!

I have to go to the kitchen to help my brother and Nevin to ready the dinner table again. To tell the truth,  I am looking forward to it.  Is there somethıng wrong with me?

A visit to Çantua

Çantua is the original name of the village and natıves changed the name to Çanta (handbag) for easier pronunciation  It is where my brother has a large piece of land and also the area where his wife's family comes from. So it was an easy decision for him to buy some land in that area. This is where my brother connects with land. 

There is a little cabin, a port-a-john, two fountains, a wooden table made from a root of a tree that I thought was beautiful and a bench where we had an impromptu picnic. It is relatively close to Istanbul, yet it is far enough that one does not feel the hustle and bustle of Istanbul. It doesn't have spectacular views but for some rolling hills and endless sky. He says that people come from all over to hunt birds and train their falcons in the area. You get there on a dirt road, so we had to drive carefully. It was a pleasant time for my brother Ahmet, sister-in-law Nevin and myself. I could imagine having horses and some sheep and couple of dogs eventually sharing the land wıth us.  He has pomegranate, walnut, pine, oak trees and many others that I don't remember. After a while, we drove to the village and found a place to get the mud washed off the truck we were driving. It was another proof that Turks are very entrepreneurial and do not mind workıng as the business comes in. The car wash place looked like no one was around and the moment we honked an 11 year old boy appeared immediately and said he would be happy to power wash the car. Several dogs followed him as he worked on our truck.

Coming home felt nice and easy after all the fresh air. We were invited to Nevin's parents for a Lüfer (bluefısh) dinner wıth three kinds of salad and deep fried patatoes, followed by rice pudding with cinnamon. Tea and fresh fruit were served while we were watching  a soccer game between Galatasaray and Samsunspor.  GS won 4 to 2 which was bitter sweet result since my father comes from Samsun but my brother and his in-laws root for GS. 

Only if

Only if I could have had a piece of chocolate, everything would have been fine. I would have calmed down, the fear of leaving my comfort zone would have disappeared and I would have been ready to get on the 11 hours and 13 minutes long flight. That piece of chocolate would have been the right medicine for me. Tanju offered to get some from the supermarket but I wanted the real chocolate, the 90 percent cacao kind! Instead I settled for an anti-anxiety pill.

I thought I deserved to calm down my anxiety for I was leaving behind, other than my lovely family,  a Sunday afternoon party, a job interview and a regional Yoga championship where I had planned to cheer for my yogi friends. (Sorry, guys!)

The check-in line for the Turkish flight 8 from Dulles to Istanbul is moving smoothly, although there are a lot of people. Not all are from Turkey; there are Central Asians, Afghans, Chinese, Africans and a lot more that I can't identify.  Istanbul, as they say, is really a melting pot where East meets West.

At that point, my only wish is not be seated next to family with young children. We'll see. As I board the airplane expecting to be greeted by a handsome captain and a pretty Turkish flight attendant, a culinary chef, complete with his chef's hat and apron, sleeves rolled up, greets us. It is like walking into the restaurant in a Four Seasons Hotel. I don't know what to think about it but I am kinda glad that I didn't have dinner earlier or didn't go after that piece of chocolate. Now that I have great expectations, please don't disappoint me chef!

Food is good and the service even better. Looks like my wish came through and there are no children running around my seat. It is amazing to watch people trying to find a comfortable position  to sleep during a long flight. There are no positions you can twist your body to have shut-eye sleep in an economy seat. You probably can get a few hours of OK sleep and that's what I ended up getting. Woke up the smell of the airline prepared omelet and be glad that the flight is only nine hours.

My brother and a good friend are meeting me at the airport. It's not like that we haven't seen each other for years, but it will still be an emotional moment for me. I expect my hugs and kisses.

My luggage comes and I rush to the arrival hall. I am filled with such joy that I feel like a puppy getting her treat. I get my hug from my brother, not letting him go for a while. Then Aygun who has been a dear friend over the years. She always exudes energy and an endearing excitement . I feel good. I am home again and back in my comfort zone.

Getting there

11 hours and 13 minutes