Happy Birthday Hector!

It was Hector's first birthday. I've been very bad about taking pictures of my kids on their birthdays. I didn't take one picture of Atticus' 7th birthday party, and it was really cool. He would have liked to have remembered the friends that came and the fun time they had. Oh well. This was the best I could get of Hector. He got a haircut for his birthday. And a cupcake. Here's Jonathan lugging Hector up a sand dune. This picture doesn't do the dune justice. Just know that it's really big and really steep. You wouldn't want to go down this dune in your car.

Here are our four bears outside the Museum of Islamic Art. We just went to see the exhibition they had of "A Journey into the World of the Ottomans". Fortunately, they displayed very little modern art so I didn't walk out of there frustrated from spending the money on the exhibit. Please forgive me for not being cultured enough to enjoy modern art. I just don't have that quality. We showed the kids the paintings, which they actually enjoyed. They really want to go to Turkey again. They love the Bosphorus. They love the mosques. I know they couldn't describe why they love those places but I know why they do. They spent so much time on the Bosphorus when we lived there. We didn't have a car. We were crossing on those ferries at least twice a week and more often on some weekends. We'd see dolphins. We'd see massive tankers. We'd see people throwing bread to the seagulls. We'd see jellyfish. So many of them. The fresh, coolness of the sea spray on their faces. Of course they loved it. The mosques were great because they were beautiful buildings. Beautifully constructed. They were tranquil. They were open. That was the best part. My children were welcome inside. Here in Doha, infidels are not welcome inside. Anyway, it's Jonathan's turn to post. Send him a few comments if you get a chance, that way he'll post more often. I hope he'll post every two weeks. I love to read his writing. I wish he'd write more.

Chapters

The day before I left Turkey to fly home I was quite solemn about the whole thing. Actually I was sad about leaving. I sat in my tiny kitchen looking up at the wall that's covered with my kids' schoolwork that they had done throughout the course of the year. My little home. My beautiful little home that's housed so many wonderful moments together. My mismatched dishes, my silverware drawer that lacks one of those plastic organizers, my storebought water barrel, my cluttered windowsill with knick-knacks from my life but mostly my kids', my dirty floor that has been swept daily once and sometimes twice, all the way up to our bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Definitely not the kind of place that people are going to comment on when they walk in the door. The usual, "Ooohhh, Ahhhh, I love your place," wouldn't be uttered. In fact, wherever I have called home, that has been the case. No frills. Just functionality. Just a place where food can be prepared quickly, items can be located easily, and people can be put comfortably. That leaves me a lot more time for memories to be made.

So anyway, I was sad. Sad because it may be the last time I ever step inside this little home. After I step out of it, it might be boxed away in my memory forever. Folded up. The next tenants might sterilize it and throw away all the love we had in it and fill it up with fancy furniture and showy decor and then run away to work each day and never spend any time in it. Never laugh in it, never mess it up, never read in it's rooms, never open it's windows and let in the outside air. Poor, lonely, little home.

After that day, the day of the trip came and adrenaline rushed in. I was going to fly for the first time alone with my three Tumbleweeds. How would it go? Knowing those three, crazy probably. From the moment I woke up to the time I got on the plane and we were taking off, there was no time to look wistful and get teary eyed, which is what I would have done if I were a little less stressed. So as we rose in the air a chapter closed and a new one has opened.

I can count the times on one hand where a chapter ends in my life.

1. I flew home from Spain after a year there.

2. I got released from my mission.

3. I married my husband.

4. I gave birth to my first baby.

5. I flew home from Turkey.

There are many more chapters in my life, but none mean as much to me as these. My first chapter opened the world's doors for me. It taught me so much about people in other places. It taught me that I can do anything I want to in life. My second chapter taught me that occupying yourself in the Lord's service is fulfilling and beneficial to a selfish young adult's soul. My third chapter ended my single days. I would never wonder about my life with anyone else again. I would have company from that day on for the rest of my life. My fourth chapter got rid of this question ever entering my mind, "I wonder what I'll do today?" It also began my years as a mother. My husband put it very well in his latest post. My fifth chapter taught me a lesson in finding happiness wherever you are. Although, I'm no pro, I began that journey in Turkey. Thank you Turkey for digging the foundation. Perhaps someday I'll be a stalwart, sturdy individual that can roll with any punch, rain or shine. Insallah!

There is one thing that I know will happen, however. If my husband and I ever settle down, or exceed an income of $30, 000, we will look back on our days in that blessed country and wish we could step back just for a moment and mingle in that jolly society again where you go out of the house just to get out. Even now I look back and think about how much fun we had together. Who knows? Perhaps that's where we will end up. But for now we have a quest and I don't know where it will take us. Join us and please do comment. I love them.

Whirlwind vacation

Grandmom and Grandad have come and taken us on a whirlwind of adventure. Of course this isn't a problem for my tumbleweeds who are already flying in circles, but it really wears me out. We rented a large vehicle for the trip. No seatbelts and horrible whatever it's called that cushions the bumps on the roads. My butt was sore every night. My head hit the ceiling a few times too. We drove from Istanbul westward, then southward to Gallipoli, crossed the Dardanelles to Canakkale and to Troy, down to Ephesus, Bodrum, Antalya, and then northward, McDonalds, gas stations, and then Istanbul.

The trip was full of diarreah, beaches, grumpy mommy, happy mommy, wonderful children, great weather, and fun. If you ever come to Turkey please see Troy. It was my favorite place and my kids absolutely loved it. There is space for them to run around. Atticus' comment on it was "Mom, I like this maze." They got to go in the Trojan horse. There were massive toads in a small pond. There were rocks for toddlers to play with. If you drive there, don't pay for parking. We did and when when we passed the gate where we paid, there was the parking lot. We could have just parked outside and walked in. Just a little tip for you drivers out there.

We sort of saved going down the Aegean coast for our last excursion. It's probably the most visited area of Turkey, by foreigners and Turks alike. It's not really Turkey to me. It's more like this historical land stuck in the past. Not in the last 100 years like other parts of Turkey, but stuck in ancient times. The times of Agamemnon and Odysseus. As we crossed the Dardanelles in a ferryboat I looked down at the water and thought "there's the wine dark sea" that they always talked about. Greek history has always fascinated me. For our honeymoon Jonathan and I went to Athens. I have all these pictures of us running through the ruins of Mycenae. Putting all these connections together is quite fun. I'm no historian but I do see wisdom in piecing together the past. I try to do a little piecing here and there, when I'm not too occupied with the tumbleweeds.

I don't think my younger two will remember all we've seen. But I think Atticus might. He might remember climbing up the steps of the Trojan horse and looking out all the windows at us. He might remember his grandmother telling him the story of how the Trojan War began. He might remember me telling him that all those broken stones that people are looking at are like puzzle pieces from a long long time ago and when they're connected they tell a story.

I realize that teaching my children history facts is not the most important thing for them, or me. But I do hope they will realize that they can go and learn about anything in the world first hand, if they want to. They don't have to sit home and watch a show about the Great Wall of China and think that that's the only time they'll ever see it. I don't want the TV to be their only window to the world.

While my kids expanded their perspectives, I did a little expanding my own way.

Tuesday Turkification

• Episode 2-Salipazari (Tuesday's bazaar) and other tidbits

Lunch in the high school cafeteria: Lentil soup, rice and vegetable medley (potatoes, peas, and carrots) with bits of beef, with chocolate pudding for dessert. You also have a salad bar at your disposal with green salad and cucumbers, purple cabbage, and yogurt all in separate trays.-"Will they have Turkish rice?" he asked

-"Um, yes. But Turkish rice is the same as other rice." I stated trying to help him realize that rice is rice.

-"But Turkish rice is different from English rice because it's covered in oil."

-" hmmmm" not knowing what to say. I do inform him of the Turkish cooking patterns in cafeterias and now he's repeating them to me.

We had this conversation as we passed numerous high school students in the stairwell. I hope they didn't pick up on the 'covered in oil' part.
We had to make a quick trip to the American consulate this afternoon. I say quick because we were granted Jonathan's boss' driver. Yes, the Head of the English Department at the Acibadem Istek school has a driver. What does the driver do while he's not driving? I can only guess that today he was getting a little shut-eye because he came out of his break room looking a little wrinkled, tie-less, work jacket-less, and non talkative. I'm not judging him. Coming from America I used to think, a driver? Well, anyone can do that. But can they? In a city like Istanbul? We've been driven by a couple of drivers several times during our life here and I can tell you that some know their job better than others. Today we got lucky, although he was a bit groggy at first. By the time we finished our paperwork at the consulate he was himself again, making small talk, very small talk on the drive home. The photo above shows our southward drive, north of the second bridge along the Bosphorus. Gorgeous weather.There is a large man standing to the right of the tree looking skywards. He just sent a bundle of goods up to his apartment (4th floor, with the window open) by rope. I don't know if you can see the bundle just between the 3rd and 4th floor. Isn't that cute? If we lived in an upper floor apartment I would have Jonathan send me up snacks on a regular basis. Chocolate, Turkish delight, Camlica, cartons of milk, bread. Fun!

Tuesday is busy, busy, busy for our area of the city. In Kadikoy. You'll find in your tourist books that Salipazari (take all dots off the i's) is an attraction not to miss. The weekly bazaar where sellers come from far and wide to sell their goods. Mostly fresh foods, clothes, and knic-knacs. Above is a bunch of steel wool for sale. Haven't you always wanted a big clump of steel wool?Here's Jonathan picking at his Gozleme. Flour tortillas filled with whatever you want. Usually cheese and vegetables. The old ladies at the pazar make them for you on a large hot plate. We got a just cheese one, and a spicy spinach and cheese one.Yummy yummy.-What is your name?

-Jonathan

-What is your name?

-Jonathan

-What is your name?

-Jonathan

-What is your name?

-Benim adim Jonathan.

Everyone is closing down for the day. By 5 or 6 in the afternoon you can get some really good deals. The food sellers will lower their prices just to get rid of everything. By the time we were finished with our shopping the kids were still with us, Jonathan was still smiling, and there was time to get home while the sun was still out.

Since this Sunday is Easter I figured that this year was the year. The year for what?, you might ask. Well, the year for actually teaching my kids what Easter is all about. Usually we just give the kids a talk on Sunday and give Jesus about a 5 minute discussion, and then its off to visit and have fun with the family and eat eat eat! So this year, since I actually have a very free mind here in this Turkish lifestyle, I've had time to sort of think about how to do this. I went over to Sugardoodle and found some great ideas for kids. On Tuesday we had a little supper, Jerusalem style. Unfortunately, Jonathan was stuck in a school meeting so we proceeded without him.

Actually I think the only thing he would have enjoyed would have been the meat skewers. Cinci loved them. "Don't touch my meat!" he says.

There weren't too many spills. Here's my advice for anyone who does this. Don't make too much unleavened bread. It's not very good. My kids didn't like it and neither did I. Just make enough to taste it. Then you can understand the difficulty the people must have had in those times. Imagine, no good bread. Sadness! Also, don't expect to have a clean blanket when you're done. And whatever you do, promise yourself that you won't yell at your kids for any reason. It really ruins the whole experience. I yelled. I felt bad. And now I have to wait a whole year to do it again and do it right, without the yelling. But I'm sure none of you yell at your kids.

So that's our Easter kick-off for the week. I have more planned for Saturday and Sunday. We'll see if I can do that without yelling.

Meanwhile we've been enjoying the weather. We took a ferryboat across the Bosphorus yesterday and saw dolphins again. I feel pretty lucky. I saw three last time I took a ferry. Daddy.

Shermy in all his cheesiness.

The tulips are in full bloom here in Istanbul. We hurried down to Goztepe Park this evening but got there after sundown. Therefore, no good pictures. But at least you can tell they're pretty flowers. After walking around in the park in the dark we stopped in at our favorite Cafe. Kahve Dunyasi. They serve lots of coffee and have all kinds of chocolate. We always order hot chocolate. It's not the greatest. What's great is the chocolate spoons they serve with the hot chocolate. You can just stir that dark chocolate spoon right into your hot chocolate until it disappears, however, my kids like to smear the spoon all over their faces and hands.

They also serve chocolate rocks. Our friend Lesa provided the transportation. Thanks Lesa!

Bursa, the first capital of the Ottoman Empire

Tuesday Turkification

• Episode 1-Bursa
  
  

Click here for a larger image.

Of course this adventure took place almost two weeks ago, but I must still tell you all about it. Ever since we came to Turkey we have had it in our plans to go and visit Bursa. It is definitely not one of the main attractions in your Lonely Planet guide and your average tourist will not go home saying, "Well, we went to the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, but Bursa was better!" Personally, I think Bursa is better, but hey, I'm not you. The people are really friendly, the mountains are gorgeous, and the city holds a very rich history that is lamentably overshadowed by it's neighboring city, Istanbul.

We rented a car for this weekend trip. We raced down to the ferry boat dock in Pendik and managed to get ourselves on the 4:45 ferry crossing the Sea of Marmara. Pendik-Yalova. Here's our view from the upper deck. You can just barely see the other side.

It took about an hour. It wasn't long before Atticus and Sherms were at eachother's throats. Fortunately, I had purchased some sustenance in the form of corn nuts before our departure. Here's a picture before the unveiling of the sustenance.


Once we got off the ferry our drive from Yalova to Bursa took us a mere 30 minutes. The countryside was beautiful. Getting out of the chaos of Istanbul is always nice. The hills were green. We passed a pretty lake. The road was smooth and big. We weaved through the valleys and in the distance we could see snow capped peaks. I felt like I was in Europe. Anywhere but Turkey. The freeway led us into an open valley and there was Bursa. You could see the heart of the city nestling up onto the mountains. I like to compare it to Spain's Granada. It has all the modern conveniences of Istanbul, but it's smaller, colder, has a snow loving population, and has a very rich history despite it's small size. The air wasn't so great though. Apparently Istanbul got natural gas just in the last 10 years, so I think all the haziness in the air in Bursa is from all the coal burning. Can you believe it? A city dependent on coal for something simple like cooking dinner? (This was one of my American moments, where it donned on me that not everyone lives as I do.)

First stop the next morning: The Ulu Cami. Cami means mosque in Turkish. Ulu means great, high, or exalted. I've seen a lot of mosques in Turkey and what stands out about this one is it's heavy dutiness. It's very thick, and everything is sturdy, which is interesting considering how old it is. I know nothing about architecture but most of the other mosques I've seen don't seem so thick. Like a massive elephant foot smashing down from space onto the earth. 1399. It's an old one. When you walk in you can hear the sound of water. It sounded like a bubbling brook. Living waters. Like in most buildings that are large and made of stone, this one was cold too. You can see they closed off the water. Just like in almost every famous cathedral in Europe. Under construction.Our kids are used to going in mosques. Usually they're empty, thank goodness. The kids love to take off their shoes and run around, something we try to discourage with no avail. In this particular mosque they had a table covered with prayer beads. Atticus and Cinci had a lot of fun trying them on. Shermy on the other hand was in a more meditative state, and actually preferred praying. (He hasn't been taught properly though. See the direction of the carpet. He's not facing Mecca.)Bursa was conquered by Osman, the founder of the Ottoman Empire, in the early 1300's. Before becoming the 1st capital of the Ottoman Empire it was a Greek city, Prussa, capital of the region of Bythinia. Prussa-Bursa. I see the resemblance. Here's the tomb of the great Osman himself.Here's Shermy in front of a restaurant in Bursa. We didn't eat here. He just used the bathroom here. Bursa is famous for Iskender. It's a delicious meal. Sliced doner meat over a bed of soft bread cubes with a special tomato sauce poured over it. After your plate of Iskender is served to you, the cook will come out with a sauce pan of sizzling butter and top your meal with it. I know it sounds like a Cardiac special, but oh boy is it good. Jonathan has it all the time, in fact check out his blog post about it here at his blog In Between the Cheeks.Here's a picture of the kids. I know. Where are they? They're way up at the top in that little nook. These are the old city walls of Bursa. What's left of them. They look like they're in pretty good shape for being 700 years old, don't you think?

Here is a river we passed on one of our walks around town. These waters come from the peaks of Uludag, the highest mountain in Bursa. There's a ski resort there and there are a couple of drinks named after it. I don't like the Uludag Gazoz so much. If you come here, go for the Camlica or the Fruko.Here is the inside of the Yesil Cami. Green Mosque. It's a really small mosque but very intricate and green. Lots of tiles and set in a very pretty neighborhood. Be sure to go here because it's near the part of Bursa that everyone should see. You know, the streets with the cute cafe's, the trees that really give a street it's charm, and the candy shops full of candied chestnuts. We bought two boxes since they're famous from Bursa. One plain and one chocolate covered.

Bursa was only the capital of the Ottoman Empire for about 50 years. Once the Ottomans conquered Edirne up in Thrace, it moved to that city instead. So just remember, if you go to Bursa, here are the things you must experience:

• Ulu Cami
• Iskender
• Candied chestnuts
• Yesil Cami
• The awe of being in the founding city of the Ottoman Empire
• Osman's tomb

On our drive back we passed through Bilecik and Iznik. Worth the drive. Here's why:Bilecik is somewhere you never really need to go, but it's a nice stop off the beaten path. We found this old mosque, you can't see it from the picture but it had large grounds around it and it was nestled in this green valley. Very secluded, but right behind the bustling city. It was kind of like a monestary where people would go to study and meditate. I'm no expert in Islam but it really was nice to know that Islam does provide instruction to it's believers. I guess I'm just tired of the people in Istanbul not knowing anything about what they believe (or don't believe.)Behind me are the walls of Iznik. Nicea. You know, the Nicene Creed? Ever since I found out that Nicaea was in Turkey, I've wanted to come here. The First Ecumenical Council in 325 was held in a church that is now in the depths of the lake that you see behind Jonathan in the picture below.

The Second one was held in this church, the Sancta Sophia in 787. Sorry it's not such a great photo. We were driving at the time.

Iznik is somewhere I would have liked to stay longer. It was really cute and quiet. Don't drive in the city. Just park on the outskirts and walk in. It's not big at all. You'll hate yourself if you do drive in there.

And remember! Don't travel to northwestern Turkey in the winter unless you're going to ski.

Be our guest, be our guest!

Guest Checklist (in Turkey)

1.When you enter someone's house, take off your shoes.

2. Say "Hos bulduk" after they say "Hos Geldiniz"

3. Look them in the eye and shake their hand if offered.

4. Answer your hosts questions in real words.

5. Eat the food they offer you.

6. Say "Thank you" for everything they give you.

7. Don't jump on their furniture.

8. Always say "Thank you for letting us come" before we go.

Last night we went to someone's house for dinner. Over the course of our stay in Turkey we have had the opportunity several times to dine in Turk's homes. Many of the people that we dine with are my husband's English students from the English school he worked at when we first came here a year and a half ago. DILKO. I love it because they have never had Americans in their homes before. They put on their best show, make their best food, and goo and gah over our kids. There are drawbacks however. They tend to have a lot of breakable things in their homes, they don't keep toys handy unless they have kids of their own, and they always serve meals on glass dishes. These drawbacks are minor compared to the minute details we absorb about Turkish culture during our visits. My favorite aspect of the visit is obviously the food. They prepare everything fresh. Everything is from scratch. And the dishes they prepare are almost never served at the Turkish restaurants you find yourself dining at when you're on vacation here. When the average American thinks of Turkish food, what comes to mind? Doner Kebaps, right? Well, there is a lot more to Turkish food than that. In fact, Turkish cuisine is not centered around meat. They eat a lot of beans. A lot of potatoes. A lot of grains. And tons of vegetables prepared in ways you would never have imagined. Meat and fish are eaten often, but you'll find the frugal Turkish housewife prepares alternative meatless dishes that are also filling and quite creative.

So above you see my trusty checklist. Actually I just invented it now. But I'm going to be using it whenever we go to someone's house in the future. Whether they be Turkish or not. My kids have a lot of energy and it is really difficult to control them in new environments. We don't always know what to expect. So they surely don't. Fortunately, my kids are great at eating new things. So I don't have to be embarrassed that often about my kids not touching their food. The biggest problem I have is my kids ignoring the people when they're spoken to. I know it has to do with my kids knowing that English is not the persons native language, which I think is weird. If they're speaking English, you answer in English right? Well my kids don't. If someone has any accent, my kids pick up on it and will pretend not to understand. Weird. Anyway, we're working on it. Hope my checklist will motivate my kids to shape up when we're on display at Turks' houses.

Two in One

Jonathan is holding three items of a very turkish nature. You probably can't tell what they are. They're three small packages of wet wipes with different soccer teams colors' on them. Fenerbache, Galatasaray, and Besiktas. Turks love soccer and Turks love wet wipes. Almost every Turk posesses a small package of wet wipes in their purse or man bag. What better way to combine two very turkish obsessions!

Drifting westward. . .

One of the most beautiful things about Turkey and perhaps the whole middle east (I don't know yet) is their sense of community. It's ingraned in them from birth. I imagine a child coming into the kitchen in the late morning to their mother toiling away in the kitchen. Sweat is beading on her forehead as she rolls rice mixture tightly into grape leaves and sets one more sarma on the neat pile of cylindrical treats.

"What are those for Anne?"

"Oh, you know, for the ladies. Ha ha. You know how we love to eat while we chat."

Around 2 or 3 in the afternoon the mother will join her friends outside at a table and add her tray of delights to the table. The possible selection might include cake, some fried vegetable that you can eat with your hands, nuts, sunflower seeds, sarma ( rice filled grape leaves), and of course cay (turkish tea).

I live in a site, pronounced (see-tay). It has a gaurded entrance, three large apartment buildings inside, the parking lot, a small play structure with swings and slides, a small soccer court, a beautiful pond and fountain area surrounded by pretty flowers and bushes, and several tables and benches that are shaded. They way it is set up fosters a community feeling. All the children play together whether they like it or not. The adults know eachother. The ladies who don't work outside of the home enjoy eachother's company daily. It's satisfying to observe these people stay true to who they are. Turkey is drifting westward every minute. I hate to see it happening. This morning on my run I passed two young men who were engrossed in one of their cell phones' features. I have a cell phone and so does my husband. But I never pull it out unless it's ringing. Never. Especially if I'm walking by one of the most pleasant morning views of the city. Anyway, when Ataturk was in charge of this country he prohibited many things in order to make it a secular state. One of them was the traditional religious dress that Turkish people wore daily.

This fez was banned through the Hat Law in 1925. Shame. Since then Turkey has been consumed with a push pull relationship with the West. Turkey is full of Muslims yet Turkey wants to be part of Europe and the West. How can this happen without completely renouncing who you are? Embracing Europe means permitting everything European into your country. If I were Turkey I would say "No! No! Nooooooooo! Stop now!!!!!" My biggest fear is that if this does happen, Turkey will lose that genuine community feeling that other countries try to fabricate by creating shopping malls and such.