Today is a special day in Turkish history, the anniversary of the Turkish Republic. So in commemoration of that special day of freedom from the Ottoman Empire (or the “enemies,” as some of my students put it), I will write about my life since being freed of a 3-week long illness!
As I wrote before, I was ill when my parents first came to Istanbul, and I wasn’t able to see them during our first weekend of coinciding existence here. On Sunday they did manage to come out all the way to Bahçeşehir and take a small tour of my cozy suburb, and Mom got to be my mom again by telling me what I should do to feel better. They also brought
Socrates a cat wand, which you can’t buy here in Turkey, and now he’s addicted. As in if I don’t play with him enough he starts wrecking the place.
Socrates
So then Mom and Dad left to see the rest of beautiful Turkey while I taught and coughed (I still have yet to go outside of Istanbul). When they came back to Istanbul at the end of their trip, full of stories and adventures and well over the jet lag, they came again to Bahçeşehir to check out the school and meet some of my coworkers. They were impressed by the facility and the faculty, and so on. I could brag about how great my school is and claim authenticity through Mom and Dad, but there's really no point. They seemed most impressed by 1) the warmth of my fellow teachers, and 2) the volume of the kids. They came in around lunchtime and learned why no one can have a conversation in the cafeteria between 12:40 and 1:20. And then, a nice touch: they got to meet some of the students themselves, who enveloped them in a swarm and got to practice English with them. And my doppelganger-like similar appearance to my father was not lost on the little ones.
Some of my awesome coworkers
The next night was Friday, and I invited a group of friends to eat out with my parents on Taksim square. Can, Pınar, Aslı, Beyza, and Ecem came out to show my folks and little more personalized touch on the crowded culture of Taksim. It was a heartwarming day for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it was my first time out in about 3 weeks because of that stupid illness, and I felt I had been neglecting my friends for about a month, so it was good to see a lot of them at once. Second, the week at school had been hard, and particularly that day (Fridays have my hardest teaching load). And third, my parents and my friends got along really well. Like, really well. The kind of chemistry I felt with them that made me want to come back. So at the end of the night I could feel that my folks had a much clearer picture of why I needed to live 10 times zones away from home.
Can and Dad
Aslı, Pınar, and Ecem (Sadly this is the best picture I got all night! I was having too much fun to take pictures, I guess.)
I stayed with Mom and Dad in the hotel overnight and on Saturday we visited a friend of Mom's friend , Ayfer, for a cooking lesson, which ended up lasting all day and going way over my head. It probably would have been a relaxing day if I weren't worried that Socrates was tearing up my apartment out of loneliness - it wasn't long after that he taught himself how to hack into the fridge. I spent most of the time alternating between watching the master chefs at work and being too tired to move a muscle. Even so, I think I was able to retain something: today I made beef thinking of the way Ayfer had prepared that night's exquisite lamb, and it came out pretty great, even by male bachelor standards (only half-kidding here).
Mom and Ayfer in Ayfer's small and very utilized kitchen
Mom peeling olives. That was supposed to be my job, but I got out the camera and Mom took the hint. I win!
Dad taking a crack at cracking walnuts without breaking the inside even once. My best was 3 pieces.
After the long and hard day of cooking and pretending to understand kitchen language, Ayfer threw a small party and we ate the fruits of our labors (I should say "their labors" since I didn't really do diddlysquat). Ayfer's son and husband were there, along with a Turkish wine marketer and his partner. The wine expert brought four wines - a white, a rose, and two reds - and we drank them all after nice descriptions of each. It was like Passover. And definitely more than I've ever drank in a single sitting. Who would've thought that day would come in a Muslim country? And speaking of this being a Muslim country, that fact seems to be the biggest barrier to wine producers in this country, even though it's the 4th-biggest grape producer in the world. Apparently grape producers usually won't sell if they know their product will become wine, since the connotation with Jesus Christ makes it sinful. Plus the religious leaning government (some at the table called it conservative, some fundamentalist) puts wine sellers through pretty unfair regulations. But in the last 20 years the business is doing nothing but growing.
It was just like being at home, surrounded by people totally knowledgeable about the world of food and drink. And, not to be outdone, Ayfer brought in some one-of-a-kind liquor made by an Armenian friend, so rare it doesn't even really have a name. It's a shame that it doesn't exist outside this friend's personal connections because the stuff was amazing. I can't believe I didn't get drunk. Drinking alcohol without a name is usually a bad idea, but not this time. Maybe my tolerance is higher than I credit it for.
Oh, and the food was pretty good, too. The lamb was so tender... and, if memory serves, all the food was traditional style from Gaziantep, where Ayfer is originally from. And, of course, after the liquor loosened us all up, we got into talking politics and Turkish history, which was pretty fun because most of the guests were speaking in their second language. If it weren't for that, it would've seemed a lot like a conversation we'd have about America at one of Mom's dinner parties.
And by the time I made it back to my apartment, Socrates hadn't ruined a thing.
Now Mom and Dad are back in America, and while I don't know the details, I hear things aren't going well health-wise for a couple of members in my family: My father's father, who's been through a health nightmare over the last couple of years, and my little cousin who must be devastated that she's just out of the hospital after a crazy temperature instead of just out of the swimming pool after a meet. My heart goes out to all of you, and if my love could heal you'd both be better right now.
One difficult thing I had to grapple with when I moved to Istanbul was the possibility of a health emergency I couldn't attend to. Last summer was a really tough summer for both my parents since they both have elderly parents in increasingly difficult medical situations. And even the young members of my family, like my little cousin, are prone to freak accidents of bad luck. Friends break up with loves, Aunts and Uncles are driven to tears as they take care of my grandparents as well as their own household amid this tough economy, and I can't be there. Like any young person who thinks he's never going to die, I think nothing bad's going to happen, or more accurately, I don't think anything bad's going to happen - I try not to think about it. But what if it does? Am I at peace with the fact that I won't be able to be there for the family and friends who need me? How good is my distant love in the time of a crisis?
I hope, at the very least, this little-updated blog can offer a little help in place of my absence.
