FOUR ADVENTUROUS TURKISH WOMEN - 7.29.2013 Turkey has always been full of surprises for me despite the fact that it's been my land of origin and I have been visiting this land several times a year every year. Perhaps, it is because, every time I return, I do lots of things with local friends, colleagues, family, who evolve as the land does and discover, in the process, new things about this fully alive panorama for me to enjoy along with them.
My teaching activities this visit are organized to be held in Mugla, the vacation heaven of Turkey and in Izmir, my hometown. The adventures of the first week of my stay this time, will start with two of my colleagues from Izmir picking me up from my brother's home. Dilek is a forensic medicine nursing academic and Hulya is a forensic medicine physician, two delightful, strong willed, and adorable women after my own heart, I will discover, soon. On the way to Mugla, we swing by the Izmir airport and pick up Betul, my dear colleague from Ankara, who is one of the most dedicated leaders in this field playing a crucial role in materializing some of the major projects in Turkey for the last 10 years to improve the child protection system.
As always, it is a very pleasant drive down to Mugla with one mini-stop in Aydin, where Dilek is originally from. Dilek apparently decided to bring a sweet touch to our trip: She asked her mother to pick fresh figs (Aydin figs are the best in the country by the way) from the huge fig tree in their backyard that, we learn later on, rises to the terrace on top of the apartment building, the family lives in. Her plan, not to delay our arrival to Mugla turns out to be to pick up a basket of figs from her mother while we wait in the car for her return. i am a bit confused with this plan. In Turkish culture, it would be very appropriate to stop by and pay a brief visit to the family if we are to accept such a lovely gift from them. In fact, it would be the right thing to do. Hulya is gracious enough to ask us if we'd like to stop by and visit with Dilek's parents a bit as if she has read my mind. Both Betul and I jump on the suggestion. Dilek is ecstatic.
We start climbing up the stairs, to meet a genuine Aydin woman in her daily attire, which is a cotton dress with long sleeves, down to below her knees, with her "yemeni", very lightweight, semitransparent head scarf, Turkish women throw over their hair and tie on the nape of their necks from behind their ears. She is waiting for her daughter at the door, with the basket of figs, ready, almost at attention, her face is nothing but a big smile. Unaware that three more women are coming up, for a split second she is surprised, but let alone being upset with this, the "oh, my..." expression turns into a visible delight and enthusiastic welcome the next moment. My heart is filled with affection and appreciation. I murmur to myself "This is Turkish people, homes open to any visitors, any time of the day, whether they are ready for it or not, as long as the visitors are ready to accept, appreciate and embrace them as they are."
Dilek's mother Ayse
Ayse is her name, we learn as we enter the house with profuse "thank you"s for accepting us and preparing figs for us. An even bigger smile spreads to her chronically sunburned face, easing the wrinkles surrounded with her yemeni. we are led into a cozy, pristine-clean living room after taking off our shoes at the entry, Turkish style. She tells us right away, in tears, about a young woman from her neighborhood that died unexpectedly the previous night. We are all ears, Dilek knows the young woman, too. she tells us all about the rituals that will follow now for about a week. Dilek takes our "orders" for Turkish coffee, I want it medium sweet. as she disappears into the kitchen, her mother tells us how she met her husband, how she grew up never knowing any ethnicity but nomadic turks of Aydin, whose ethnic title is "yoruk". Dilek was her only child and she and her husband dedicated themselves to her and her well-being. our coffee, is served in typical small Turkish coffee cups like espresso cups. Very well done, we all agree, and I take a picture of the mother and daughter.
Dilek and her mother, a perfect picture
Unfortunately, we don't have enough time to have our cups "read" to us, no fortune reading today. Ayse hanim (Lady Ayse) sends us away with her blessings and a large basket of figs, the best I have eaten for a long time... We arrive in Mugla in couple of hours. our hostess meets us on campus... After making a plan for the next day, we take leave to go to our hotel, I, thinking, I might have couple of hours before dinner to catch up with sleep and deal with my jet lag. But my Izmirite friends have other plans for us! I should have known better, Izmirites just can't get enough of salt water wherever they go, including this one. As soon as Dilek hesitantly tells me she and Hulya were planning to go to Akbuk, one of the many coves along Gokova peninsula, I perk up, Resmiye the first, my grandmother, wakes up in me and without even thinking, I say I am in, we make sure we take along our basket of figs!
The first of the three 3-kg basket of fresh figs I will devour over ten days
At that point, our understanding is that, we will go for an afternoon swim, enjoy some sunset time and come back to Mugla in time for our 7:30 dinner rendezvous with Yasemin, our hostess and her assistant. Soon, it becomes crystal clear that all four women in the car, after stopping by a shop to buy a swimming suit for Betul, who had no idea, Izmirites would drag her to such an adventure, in fact have the same adventurous spirit. We are all thrilled with the prospect of being back on the Aegean, this time just to enjoy and savor it. The road from Mugla to Gokova is one that everybody should cover at some point in their lives. It is one that meanders first up to the top of a pass over the bluff covered with gunluk and pine trees, then thrusts itself down to the sea level with the same switchbacks, eventually to follow the coastal line as if it is in love with it. As it becomes clear that this trip will not be as short as I thought it would be, being one of the primary guests Yasemin was making plans to treat to a dinner, I propose calling Yasemin early on to ask her how she would feel if we couldn't make it to dinner in Mugla tonight. She knows us and the region all too well, she understands. "I want you to be where you will enjoy our land the most" is her comment, I am grateful for this understanding permission, we all are. Now we can enjoy every minute of what will follow. Dilek is visibly more comfortable now that time constraint is off her shoulders.
We eventually come to a secluded cove, that looks and feels like a small lake, surrounded with gunluk and pine trees all the way to the beach. no development is good news, there are only make-shift cafes and couple of small campsites. People around us are all my kind of people, I can tell, environmentally conscious, don't care about five-star hotels and their pools and animations, clearly all they want is to be in the nature, to be part of the nature, and let it go.... We talk to the cafe owner at the end of the cove, claim a table, order tea and coffee and let him know we will have fish and "mezes" after some time of swimming. He is pleasant. His main server, Mustafa, my older brother's name-sake, is a law school student, who is working here for the summer. He is happy. Everybody seems to be happy here, how can they not be? This is heaven on earth, one of so many such heavens around and along "these waters". I tell him jokingly, "So you are having the best vacation of your life and getting paid for it, huh?" He chuckles, too. He knows he has it good here.
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| The mezes in the fridge of our make-shift cafe in Akbuk |
He becomes our friend as the afternoon dwindles into the evening. We gradually move to the beach. I jump in the water and head out toward the entrance of the cove. Deep, deep, salt water is a totally different phenomenon, when it comes to swimming. You feel elated as if you've acquired light wings and the water takes you away without much effort. Heading toward the horizon is such a liberating feeling, but I soon discover, it is more so on the way back since I now swim toward the sun, setting behind the hills that are leaning toward the water at the deep end of the beach. I follow the path of the sun's shimmering reflection in the water, even though, the residual rays of the sun are blinding my eyes in a loving way.
Close to sunset, the cove is unforgettable
Once the sun goes down, the ripples over the surface of the water die down as well, as if they also know time to go to sleep is approaching. I take many pictures of the cove to catch just the right one. So does Betul with her huge cannon, the real photographer of our group! We have a healthy, enjoyable, pleasant dinner with meze platters and Laos fish, a delicacy of these parts, thanking Yasemin for being so understanding to let us let it go... When we are ready to leave, we leave a part of us behind, knowing we will probably bring our loved ones here at least once.
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| 4-lb'er Laos (fish) we shared |
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| The four adventurous Turkish women |
