Two days after arriving at Ankara, our rug dealer, Kadir Bey, called to wish us Merry Christmas. He remembered that Anna was coming and that we had planned to buy her a small rug as a Christmas present. Rather than picking one out for her, however, we thought she would like to see the shop and pick one out for herself. So, after Kadir’s phone call, we planned on another lunch at the rug shop for the next day.
When we first arrived, Kadir and his wife, Neslihan, had a gift prepared for Anna—a small hand knotted rug depicting the Kocatepe Mosque in downtown Ankara. Very thoughtful. After Anna picked out a rug for her future apartment (she may be moving into one in her senior year), she asked to see a few small kilims to pick one out for her boyfriend. Larry and I had discussed buying one more small rug for our house. But—when we saw the kilims being brought out, we were hooked once again. We bought a gorgeous Usak kilim, woven with vegetable dyed wool, depicting wheat and other agricultural motifs, and used as a “rain carpet;” i.e., for prayers seeking rain during a dry spell. Thinking that the kilim was sufficient, rather than the small rug we had intended to buy, we nonetheless also bought a Hereke rug, similar to the one we purchased fifteen years ago, but much smaller. Anna did not select any of the kilims shown because she really wanted a very small one. Nonetheless, when she commented on how beautiful one was, Kadir Bey insisted that she take it as another gift. After finally selecting a very tiny kilim as the wanted gift, once again, Kadir Bey would not take money for it. He certainly is a very generous person. I wonder if he is trying to rid himself of some of his hundreds of rugs and kilims. He and his wife are trying to sell the shop in order to retire to Antalya (he is Larry’s age—i.e., 65).
After the rug transactions, Kadir Bey showed us more of his shop than we had previously seen. The downstairs was used to sell reproduction furniture from one of his workshops. But, more interestingly, the entire space was constructed to reproduce many of the artifacts and architectural flourishes of the old area of Ankara called Hacettepe, where he was born and raised. (Hacettepe University was named after the neighborhood, where the main campus—the medical school—is located). Next week, we will join Kadir Bey for a tour of his old neighborhood. This, according to him, is far more authentic than the area of Ulus, below the fortress (or Kale), which is more of a tourist area.
That evening, we had yet another event in the form of a dinner at one of Larry’s Hacettepe colleague’s apartment. Virtually the entire department was there for the Saturday night dinner party, during which Anna met the wife of one of Larry’s colleagues, who is a practicing physician (the wife, that is); she invited Anna to join her on duty at the hospital emergency room. The dinner was entirely vegetarian in honor of Larry’s food preferences. These are very thoughtful people, indeed.
The following Wednesday, we attended yet another departmental holiday party—this one a joint American Studies Department/English Department potluck held in the former’s large meeting room/library. Unlike the workplace parties I am accustomed to—at least the recent ones, that is—this one went on for hours, with lots of food and wine consumed and eventually dancing and (would you believe?) musical chairs! These folks sure know how to party. One wonders what the students thought as they passed through the department’s hallways, seeing their professors act so silly.
After all the partying of this week, I was somewhat surprised to find our family home alone on New Year’s Eve. Nonetheless, we made plans to wander Yedi Caddesi (7th Ave.), the swinging and very busy street just two blocks from our apartment, to see for ourselves how people in the neighborhood celebrate the holiday. But first, we had some afternoon grocery shopping to do. Yedi Caddesi just had the sidewalks replaced, easing the walk along the busy street. The previous sidewalk was uneven in the extreme, with blocks missing, curbs dropping off unexpectedly, driveways dipping unevenly, and so on. Walking down that busy street, with its heavy traffic and challenging sidewalks has been quite a challenge. But, with the new sidewalks, one can actually look around while walking rather than staring at one’s feet. With the new sidewalks, alas, came complacency. After turning the corner off Yedi Caddesi toward our apartment, I had forgotten that the other streets in our neighborhood still have their old, erractic, sidewalks. Sure enough, walking at a rapid clip, I hit an imperfection with my toe and went careening forward to end up sprawled on the dusty sidewalk. Either my instincts have slowed or I was slowed by the container of yogurt I was carrying home in a bag. Whatever the reason, I did not break my fall with my hands, as most mammals would have done. Instead I landed on my forehead, hitting the sidewalk hard. Being a wearer of glasses, of course, meant that they intervened between my forehead and the sidewalk and cut me fairly well. The blow to the head dazed me for quite some time, meaning I lay immobile on the sidewalk long enough to attract a crowd. So, I provided the early street entertainment on New Year’s Eve. Eventually, someone brought a towel to clean me up (my forehead bled), give me water, then tea, then a bandaid, then lots of advice. The local merchants would not let us leave until they were convinced I was okay. (They were so nice!). As I write this, six days later, the goose egg on my forehead is diminishing, the cut healing, and my mangled glasses frames more or less fixed by a local optician and now wearable after two days without them. (Luckily, the lenses did not break). My side, where I landed on the yogurt container, still hurts though. Always an adventure when one goes out walking with EEE.
Needless to say, I did not join Larry and Anna on their sojourn to Yedi Caddesi that evening. Instead I nursed my wounds and read a novel. Later, after they returned, we watched a BBC special — stand up comedians – for hours, interrupting the show briefly at midnight to watch fireworks outside our window, and channel surfing to see some of the festivities elsewhere in the world. So our New Year’s Eve was salvaged by the Tube after all.
New Year’s Day was spent much like our Christmas Day—at the outdoor gym. Although I joined Larry and Anna on the track, I walked stiffly and did not use any of the exercise equipment. Tomorrow, (January 2), we will pay New Year’s respects to Gulriz, along with two other of her friends and colleagues, Meldan and Bercin. More on that later.
In the evening, three fire engines and various other emergency vehicles drove slowly down our road with lights flashing and horns honking, stopping only a few buildings from our apartment. Anna and I investigated, but saw no fire, and smelled no smoke. There was, however, lots of water on the road. The next day, I noticed “no parking” signs on one side of our street for the first time. There were also several announcements during the day emanating from slowly passing police cars, with an officer announcing something via mounted bullhorn – in Turkish, of course, so we didn’t understand it at the time.
The next night, more flashing lights. This time it was five tow trucks hauling off all the cars on one side of the road – the one with “no parking” signs. Apparently the fire trucks were not happy with their slow progress down our road the previous evening. The method of towing a car is quick and little nerve wracking. A giant claw is lowered over a car, cables attached to the claw fixed on the four corners of a car, then the car lifted, swinging precariously, to the bed of the tow truck. Very quick, and fascinating!
Although ours is in theory a two way street, only one lane is ever open due to parking on both sides of the narrow roadway. Each evening during rush hour, we witness our early evening entertainment as two lines of traffic face each other in gridlock, horns honking, people shouting, always ending with many cars backing up into side streets and driveways to make way for oncoming traffic. It’s great fun to watch. However, with fire engines unable to get down the street in a timely manner, public safety is at stake. Frankly, I am glad to see traffic police finally enforcing the parking laws. But now we need a new form of early evening entertainment – short of tripping over uneven sidewalks, that is.
On Sunday, Anna, Larry, Meldan and I headed to our old neighborhood in Umitkoy to pay a New Year’s visit to Gulriz and her Mama Ayse. The latter is still in the nursing home, paralyzed and unable to speak from a stroke suffered last May. But first we met another of Larry’s colleagues, Bercin, at a fish restaurant near Gulriz’s home where we had a wide variety of fish appetizers (called mezes here) and an entrée of various kinds of fish. This is the first time during this year’s visit that we experienced a type of restaurant service that is common here in fish restaurants. After selecting a table and hanging up one’s coat, we visited the kitchen, where the mezes were displayed on a refrigerated shelf. Mezes are almost always served cold. The bottom shelf displayed the fresh fish from which we choose our entrée, rather than simply consulting a menu. After selecting the mezes and type of fish we want, we choose “fried” or “grilled.” That’s it. No menu, just selections by sight. Then they are cooked to our specifications and duly served.
One of the changes I’ve noticed since our visit here fifteen years ago is portion sizes served at restaurants. For all these years I have remembered being served reasonably small portions when we ate out. Either my memory is faulty, or things have changed, or maybe we just visited cheaper restaurants when we were last here. At any rate, this time we are generally served far more at restaurants than I am comfortable eating. And I think that “doggie bags” are not common; the only person I’ve ever seen ask for one was Gulriz, which she did on this day, but only after I forced myself to eat all on my plate. After we paid the bill, we sat for awhile talking, while, to our surprise, the waiters brought us tea and two types of dessert—unasked for and “on the house.” One was a type of warm, crumbly spice cake which, we discovered after breaking into it, surrounded a large scoop of cold vanilla ice cream, Yum! The other was corn bread which none of us even attempted to try, we were so full. Gulriz brought them home.
A quick visit to Mama Ayse at the nursing home, to drop off a small gift—she was asleep, alas. Then a long visit at Gulriz’s apartment, which was elaborately decorated for Christmas. After some work-related discussions (it was a working visit for the American Studies people), Bercin and Anna made plans for Anna to shadow various doctors at the hospital where Bercin’s husband is a cardiologist and administrator, and also president of Turkey’s cardiologist association. This visit will be the first of several Anna will make with medical people while here in the medical center of the country.
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