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