Bayram in the village

Iyi bayramlar to all of you out there celebrating the end of Ramadan holiday (Eid al-Fitr, Ramazan Bayramı) in Turkey and elsewhere. Though I am not Muslim, I am definitely happy to have the day off. This holiday lasts for 3 days and this year 2 of those days land on the weekend. Though I work most Sundays, this will be my regular rotational Sun. off -- so I am feeling lucky to have a full 3 days off. Probably won't happen again for quite some time.

For kids here in Turkey, this is really the biggest holiday of the year. They go from door to door ringing bells and people give them money and/or candy. Everyone also gets new outfits for this holiday and most kids are running around in them today. However, I have also noticed a certain amount of costuming going on and I wonder if this could have been some kind of strange crossover influence of Halloween from the US (and other places that celebrate it). There was a young boy traipsing about in a spiderman costume. I did a double take when I saw him and had to remind myself that this was not October 31 and I was in Turkey, not the US.

Tomorrow, Evren and I are heading to Kaynarca, the village of his grandparents. It is traditional during this holiday to visit your family and especially pay respects to your elders. This is done by kissing the back of their hand and then touching it to your forehead. It will be kind of sad to go back this year because Ev's grandmother, who was one of my favorite people among his relatives, died last October. We will visit her grave at the family graveyard, on top of a hill overlooking the village. All of his aunts and his mom will be at the house that belonged to his grandma. We will go around and visit many of the older neighbors and friends that he knew as a child.

When I first visited Turkey back in 2005, I came during another bayram. Ev took me to the village so I could meet a lot of his extended family and old friends. His grandma, who was in her 90s (no one was sure of her exact age), was one of the first people I met there. She was tiny, hovering around 4 feet tall, but strong and full of life. She made me feel very welcome, though my Turkish was very limited at the time. Almost every other sentence from her was a joke or an engaging story from the past. One of my favorite stories was how Ev as a child used to go around the village and collect all the stray puppies. He would gather them into large sacks and tote them back to his grandma's yard. There he would free them, bring down a bunch of food and feed them all. Eventually his grandmother would make him release them all back into the village, but she was much more lenient with him and the puppies than his grandpa.

Though this is not "my" holiday per-say, I appreciate it for giving me a better glimpse into Ev's extended family and his childhood. And though Ev has lamented this year that the holiday isn't as special as it used to be because many of his cousins and friends no longer return to the village, it's still quite special to me as the first holiday I experienced in this country and because we have made it our own family tradition to go back every year.

Seeking hamster runs in megalopolis

I've never liked the idea of exercising indoors and especially not in a gym. I think of gyms as oversize hamster cages and tread mills as those little wheels that hamsters run themselves to death on. Just imagine if you could float above a commercial gym and look down on all those little beings spinning on stationary bikes, bouncing up and down on stair machines and yanking on circuit trainers that resemble medieval torture devices. Yet now I find myself looking for my own hamster wheel. Istanbul, like all megalopoli, has air quality problems and unfortunately my respiratory system is pretty sensitive to excessive particulate matter. The air should improve with winter and precipitation. However, the city has been experiencing a drought in the last few years, so who knows. Thus I am forced to take my activities indoors and since my schedule right now really doesn't allow for jaunts to the gym (plus, gyms here are extremely overpriced), I am shopping for a tread mill that will fit in our tiny green room (a multi-purpose room of our flat that now houses mostly entertainment items). When we lived in Bursa I used to see tread mills all the time for around YTL 300-400. So why in Istanbul are all the ones I've seen well over YTL 1,000? I am looking at postings of used ones also, however, they too seem overpriced. I'm beginning to feel like a hamster myself just skittering around the maze of the city on my search.

Midnight drilling and neighborly mobs

The other night soon after Ev and I had gone to bed, a high-decibel vrrrrrrrrrrroooooom vrrrreeeeeeeeeee jolted us upright. The noise paused and then abruptly continued several seconds later. This scenario repeated until Evren hopped out of bed, threw on some pants and headed out the door and up the stairs to find the culprit of the midnight drilling. The driller turned out to be a man who was working on the flat 2 floors above us. However, when Evren got to the door and knocked the man refused to answer. Ev then went downstairs where he found a group of neighbors who were similarly annoyed by the night noises. He found the night guard and then the whole neighborly mob headed back for the penthouse flat. When they reached the 11th floor, they found the man trying to hastily escape their wrath by running toward the stairwell. The guard caught up with him and lectured him on proper working hours. Everyone dispersed, thinking that this had solved the problem. But no -- the following night right around the same time -- vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrooooooming and vreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeing noises resumed once again. This time, our next door neighbor came to our door because the sound was so loud she thought it was coming from us. We assured her that it was not and Ev ran up the stairs once again to confront the man. Other neighbors had already gathered this time. When the guilty driller finally answered the door, certain men lunged at him and had to be restrained. I suppose no one takes lightly to having their sleep so abruptly and rudely disturbed. We went for a few nights with wonderful quiet. But then, the sounds resumed. It turned out that this time, the sounds were coming from the opposite apartment and a different man. I'm hoping this is not a sign of things to come from our top floor neighbors. I don't enjoy noise wars, though I've had to engage in them in the past. . .

Reminders of the span of an ocean

My mom called me while I was at work last Wednesday to tell me that my cousin L. had died. I went through the rest of the day, saving the processing of this for later and the comfort of home. Cousin L. was on my dad's side of the family. I had not really known her since she lived on the east coast and I (formerly) on the west. However, my mom and brother had gotten to know her during the past two family reunions, both of which I have missed being out of the country. So my brother flew across the country to Ohio for the funeral.

That evening I grieved -- for the lost opportunity to know one of my kin (also one of the few people that had known my father, who died when I was young), for not being able to be there for my brother and for the simple fact of being so far away from my family during this event. There is perhaps no greater reminder of the great distance that separates me from the rest of my family than the death of one of our own -- and with that distance, a reminder to be more conscious of staying in regular contact with family and friends.

Ramazan rollercoaster

I must admit that I have at least one reason to be happy it's Ramadan -- I get out of work earlier. It seems that everyone has pumped up their level of efficiency so that they can get home in time for iftar (the evening meal that breaks the fast). This means that I'm done an hour or even two hours earlier than normal. It's a beautiful thing to get home while there is still light outside. I am almost wishing that Ramadan (or Ramazan as they call it here in Turkiye) would last for two or even three months.

One of Evren's aunts and cousin are here in Istanbul just for the day. Nehir Teyze is in remission from cancer and is here for a checkup. She is always laughing and bubbly and one of my favorites among his relatives. She gives great hugs and can instantly make me feel welcome. She is one of the people I think of when I need an attitude adjustment. Everyone has things to bitch about in life, but really, why waste your time? Why not just laugh and be amused at the rollercoaster that is life.

Fugitive fasting food deliveries

We're now a few days into Ramadan. I've found myself in primarily Islamic countries for several Ramadans in the past. I am not a member of any institutionalized religion, Islamic or otherwise. However, until this year, my experiences with Ramadan have mostly been positive. For instance, when I was living with my hosts the Bah family in The Gambia back in 2001, I fasted right along with them (except for some quick sneaks of water in my hut or out in the fields in the heat of the day). We broke fast with fresh loaves of bread slathered in butter (ok, it was just margarine, more like industrial strength margarine that could withstand days without refrigeration) and tea. The evening meal was always delicious. Actually, it was the best food we had all year long and about the only time that meat graced the communal food bowls. At the end of Ramadan I participated in their tradition of taking small plates of fresh meat to each of the neighboring village compounds, where at each of which I was invited to sit down and share some food with the family. It was a festive time, a time of communion and I felt very welcomed by everyone to participate in the whole ritual.



This year I decided not to fast. For one thing, I have not been healthy lately and am taking medication. Thus, it would not be a good idea and even within the rules of Islam I would be excused from fasting. For another, my job requires a certain level of alertness from me as I am reading, editing and rewriting text all day. Obviously, the brain does not function so well without nutrition. So, though I myself am not fasting, I still have respect for others beliefs and choices. The majority of my company is made up of conservative Muslims and I would be highly uncomfortable eating in front of them. I don't believe in torturing hungry people! So a few other non-Muslims at the company and I decided to order food over the internet to the front gate. We went outside to wait for the delivery man so even the guard wouldn't have to deal with seeing/handling food. We took our food and went to the park next door. I felt like a bit of a fugitive there eating my pide (Turkish pizza-like dish, see photo) on the park bench and downing some fruit juice. Later, back in the office, a select group of us received an e-mail about having greater sensitivity towards those who are fasting. It specifically cited someone who was seen traipsing through the hallways with a cigarette in one hand and a tea in the other. This was obviously a contrived example since no one smokes in the hallways even when it's not Ramadan. And even if there was someone just drinking tea in the halls, it could've well been a non-fasting or "cheating" Muslim. Later, as we all went down to the cafeteria for iftar (the evening meal ending the fast), I noticed how I and the few other non-Muslims waited with everyone else for the official time (which was determined by watching TV and the Imam at a major Istanbul mosque) before touching the food in front of us. I had to wonder at the e-mail we had received. We are a few among hundreds. We are respectful and sensitive to the differences among us. Perhaps, it's time to show us the same.

6 Days a Week

We still haven't had time to get ADSL set up at home, so I haven't blogged in awhile (and internet is just so friggin slow at work that I really can't be bothered). Right now I'm using the connection at Ev's partners' firm. Last night there was a wild storm. It didn't last for long but it hit hard complete with lightning, gale force winds and pelting rain. I had forgotten that my mother-in-law had put our rolled up rugs and extra blinds out on the balcony. So they got pretty wet last night. They are now unrolled in our tiny living room trying to dry out.

This is my one day off from the newspaper so I feel almost obligated to enjoy it. The new schedule has taken/is still taking some time to get used to. By the time I get home it's usually already dark. So now I have to somehow turn into both a night and morning person when previously I was really more the morning type. By mid-week I find myself feeling pretty sleep-deprived, especially during this last week when all of our wardrobes and storage units arrived and I was trying to get everything put away in a semi-organized way. Now, thankfully, most things are out of sight. There is still one box in the kitchen--all of the alcohol--that really has no place to go. Perhaps, it's time to start giving it all away to our friends of jack-Muslim status. Either that or throwing an impromptu bash and inviting over every lush we know in Istanbul. Even then we might still have a few bottles left. I have no idea how we acquired so much. I might have to institute a daily nightcap tradition.

Anyways, I'm not even trying to be focused today. That's what the other 6 days of the week are for. Today I can space it or take a dive into the darkest depths of my cerebral caverns. No, I think some shopping sounds better.