Category Archives: The Mersin Diaries

Waiting for Rain

Posted on by

It was depressingly grey in Karaduvar.  The sky has been overcast with the potential of rain dangerously close.  I have been waiting for the rain to fall for a few weeks now.  The constant of dust is starting to grate on my last nerve.  It has become cold but not winter cold just overcast, kind of eastern bloc cold.  There has been some major flooding in some of the resort areas along the coast however the storms that have been pounding western Turkey have not yet made it to our neck of the woods.

Last night the rain hit – and it hit hard!

I woke at 1.00 to the sound of thunder and the immediate follow up of lightning.  As a kid I used to count the time between the thunder and lightning to see how close the storm was.  “One Mississippi, two Mississippi”.  Last night there was none of that!  It was crash and flash one after the other.  Holy crap!

Holy crap was right – I realised that my mother in laws cheese had been on our roof the last few days to dry in the sun (well in the overcast with glimpses of sunshine).  I ran upstairs to bring the cheese (now a soppy mess) in and in the process was drenched to the skin. 

Fast forward to 5.00 this morning and she was ringing my doorbell about her cheese.  Now I could have thrown it on her but . . . probably better to not do that so with my limited Turkish I yelled down to her, “Peynir, burada, evimi” (Cheese, here, my house).  I would have yelled “go back to sleep” but my Turkish is not that advanced yet.

Come 7.00 this morning and the doorbell rang again.  This time it was the builders (yes I know it is Sunday).  At this point I gave up trying to sleep so Daughter and I took Hurley for a walk.  It would have been better to have put on my swimmers and taken him for a bath but . . . well they already think I am the crazy English lady so I had better not give them any more to talk about.

Image

Image

Image

And for those of you who were concerned about the cheese it survived the night (a little worse for wear) and is now drying out on my back balcony which appears to be the only place in Karaduvar that did not get soaked by the storm last night.  It should be ready to eat early next week (fingers crossed).

Image

The Prodigal Son

Posted on by

The Turk arrived home on Sunday to much fanfare and joy (well not by me but by his family).  The women folk were up at the crack of dawn to prepare for the celebration by making all of The Turk’s favourite foods including Icel Kofte, Lamachun (Turkish pizza) and lots of salads.  I kept out of it for two reasons – one, I am a terrible chef and two, I had 8 weeks’ worth of cleaning to get done in a day!  Anyone who knows me knows that I do not clean.  I watch, I hire or I think about it but the act of cleaning never actually eventuates and in the end someone else does it for me however here I have put in a pretty good effort.  I would not eat off the floor but you would not get a foot fungus in my shower that’s for sure.  Unfortunately The Turk likes his home clean so I had the day to knuckle down and get our house ship shape and ready for his arrival.

Image

An hour into the clean The Turk telephoned from Istanbul, “Good news, I’m hopping on a flight now.  Pick me up in an hour”.  WTF???? It was supposed to be 7.00 tonight!!  I gave up vacuuming as I would never get it finished in time and ran downstairs to let the rest of the family know.  I had to laugh when I told The Turk’s mother as the frenzied rushing became a little crazed to finish the preparations for his arrival.  I left with Hurley in tow to drive to Adana (about an hour from home) to collect The Turk stopping enroute at Metro (Costco equivalent) to buy some alcohol for the celebration.

Changing the subject for a moment the wine in Turkey is certainly not to an Aussie standard which is a shame but there are a few nice drops (although they are quite expensive due to taxes put on them by the Government).  I am yet to find an equivalent to a nice Cabernet Sauvignon but The Turk is relatively happy with the 14TL (AU$7.00) red (which is even cheaper if brought in bulk at Metro).  If any readers can give me the name of a nice Cab Sav I would forever be in your debt!

After our alcohol run we did not even have to park at the airport as waiting at the arrivals door was The Turk – definitely early and he is usually never early for anything!  He looked tired, haggard in fact!  His flight was Sydney – Singapore – London – Istanbul – Adana.  35 hours in total!  Yes there was a more direct route but he wanted the cheapest possible flight and, well, you get what you pay for after all.

So after 36 hours The Turk finally arrived home to a night of celebration.  The food here may not be presented beautifully, in fact it is on an old table with mismatched chairs and newspaper for a table cloth, but I swear I have never tasted a better kofte anywhere nor has anyone been able to beat The Turk’s mother’s lamachun.  Of course the salads are great as they are made with ingredients grown right here (and without all the chemicals).  So much work goes into making this meal but it is done with laughter and and love.  I truly believe that you can taste it in the food.

Image

Incidentally The Turk did question whether I knew how to use the vacuum cleaner.  I told him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.  He just laughed.

Image

Welcome home.

The Week That Was

Posted on by

There were still two things missing in our home in Mersin.  One was The Turk but he was arriving on Pazar (Sunday).  The other was our cargo and I was starting to think that it was never going to arrive.  The belief that it is available has been hanging in the air since the first week of October but between then and now we have had public holidays, a mountain load of paperwork and numerous other issues with customs so when my brother in law called me to come downstairs with my passport early on Monday morning, well, frankly I thought it was going to be another wasted day before I would return home angry and empty handed.

Image

Arriving at the Free Trade Zone (Mersin Harbour) to collect the cargo my brother in law was advised that I was unable to enter the area (presumably because I do not have a penis) so I waited outside the gate in a small metal cage a-la Berlin Wall pre-1989 while my brother in law disappeared behind the fence (the promised land?) to collect the cargo on my behalf.   The hot Turkish sun beat down on my brow . . . wait really?  Yes really!  I sat in this cell for two hours in the sun (the security guards did thoughtfully bring me a chair) waiting for my brother in law to return but when he did it was with a huge smile on his face.  We had our cargo!  The back of his truck was filled with boxes and suddenly my dehydration dissipated – we had our cargo!

The hard part was over – or so I thought.

I stared at the boxes on Monday afternoon but perhaps exhaustion (and heat stroke) got the better of me and I just could not face the daunting task of unpacking.  I would get it done on Tuesday.

Tuesday came a little too quickly and I felt my nemesis better known as procrastination tapping on my shoulder.  *Sigh*

Wednesday.  I opened the boxes – I know I am running out of time and The Turk will be here soon.  I have got to put everything away today!  My sister in law Songul offered to come and help me but I chased her out the door.  No, this is my job and I will get it done today!

I do not want to talk about Thursday.

Image

Today is Friday and Songul just could not take any more!  She and her sisters arrived and within an hour all 26 boxes were unpacked to the sounds of laughter and chatter.  It seems all I needed to get this done was a little motivation and a little help from my friends.  Eğer bayanlar teşekkür ederim (thank you ladies).

My kitchen cupboards are full.  Daughter has her clothes and games.  Hurley has his bed and Kedi is playing in the boxes.  So now the only thing missing is The Turk.

Bring on Sunday!!!

It’s hard to get that real good feeling about festivals sometimes

Posted on by

On Sunday Daughter and I were invited to a “festival” to celebrate Cumhuriyet Bayramı (Republic Day) which takes place on 29 October of each year. I have been to my fair share of festivals over the years however upon arriving at Mersin Stadium I couldn’t help but think that my sister in law and I had differing views on what a “festival” actually was. 

Image

After going through security (which included a pat down which I would normally reserve for the bedroom) I looked around at the “festival” that was just beginning as we arrived.  Yes there was a stage but I still had a niggling feeling that this festival was going to be slightly different – but hey, when in Rome.  Perhaps it would just be music (just as the festival gods would have intended).  I looked at the stage for instruments but these were also lacking. 

Oh dear.

Daughter did find fairy floss so all was good in the world of 11 year old girls but for me I started to think that perhaps this was going to be unlike any festival that I had been to before.

Image

The place was packed.  People were everywhere waving their flags and talking excitedly amongst themselves.  I mean these people were looking forward to whatever was about to happen so we sat down with my sister in law just as the Turkish National Anthem began to play.  Everyone jumped to attention and sang along – even Daughter knew the words having been at school now for nearly two months.

Image

The first speaker came on stage to speak.  Fair enough.  I mean it IS Turkey and I guess they really do like their speeches.  When his speech ended and the cheering dissipated another gentleman came on and gave another speech.  Then another.  And another.  What type of crazy arse festival is this?  Moreover I looked over at my sister in law and wondered what type of person would call THIS a festival?  This was no festival!  This was a political meeting and it did not look like it was going to end anytime soon.  It was a hot afternoon in the sun and thankfully I dozed off (which was a real skill considering the amount of cheering and flag waving around me).  When Daughter woke me I found out that I had been snoozing happily for about 2 hours and it was time to go home.  Thank goodness! 

I guess attending a political meeting in a Muslim country can be officially ticked off my Bucket List now . . .

Got milk?

Posted on by

Yesterday afternoon I found myself searching fruitlessly for fresh milk or sut as it is known in Turkish.  Milk in Karaduvar is generally sold on the shelf (UHT) and it is rare that I can find a bottle of fresh milk in the cold aisle of the local supermarket so when I saw a display of ice cold bottles of “white gold” my heart skipped a beat.  I swung on my heels towards the milk nearly wiping out a little old Turkish lady who was skulking a little too close to my prize.  I slid to a halt next to evil granny and grabbed 2 bottles exalted knowing that tomorrow morning’s Cornflakes were going to be coated in fresh, full cream dairy milk.

So last night when Daughter asked for milk before bed I ceremoniously poured her a glass and placed it lovingly before her.  “How is it?” I asked with a grin.

“It’s milk mummy,” came the reply with a roll of the eyes.

“No, it’s more than that.  It’s fresh milk.  From the market.  It’s not from the box.  They had fresh milk at the market today!”  I found my voice rising in desperation, rejecting the notion that for Daughter it was merely milk and not the precious commodity that I believed it to be.

She finished her milk and placed the glass in the sink.  “Milk mummy.  Milk”.

With that final remark she hugged me, said goodnight and left the room.

I stared at that empty glass wondering if a punishment would be going overboard.

Sitting down to breakfast this morning I had my Cornflakes and, yes, I covered them with my prized milk.  Daughter entered the kitchen and, spying the Cornflakes box, grabbed a bowl and sat down next to me.  I watched her pour the milk over her flakes.  She turned to me, “Mmm good eh?”

It took all of my will power and motherly goodness to not roll my eyes at her and say, “It’s milk Daughter. Milk”.

Image

Sunshine and the Old City

Posted on by

The Festival of Kurban Bayran is finally coming to a close.  It has been a great couple of days visiting with family, lots of scrumptious banquets (I am pretty sure I have put back on the weight that I have lost over the past few weeks) and generally spending quality time with Daughter which has been lacking since we have arrived (mainly because she is zigging left with her cousins and new friends and I am zagging right attending Government offices and chasing down documents).

Image

So today we decided to travel by dolmus into the city of Mersin itself and spend the day exploring our new surrounds.  I have done this a few times while Daughter has been at school so I proudly asserted that I could find my way around without a map and that I would “NOT” get us lost!

Image

Mersin is sometimes known as the Pearl of the Mediterranean” (Akdeniz’in İncisi) although I would never call it that.  I have always been overwhelmed by Mersin with its noisy streets feeling somewhat claustrophobic with chaotic traffic and even more chaotic people rushing around to get to where they want to be but today, being the last day of Kurban Bayram, the city gave off a completely new vibe with most of the shops and businesses closed for the 4 day holiday.  I must say that I drank in the peace wandering through the alleys in the old city, passing through secret doors leading to cobbled passageways away from the main caddesi.  Unfortunately for me (and for my pride) it became quite apparent to Daughter that we were completely lost and, despite my objections to the contrary, she laughed loudly before pulling out her mobile and saving the day with Google maps!

Image

Even though many of the shops were closed the restaurants were all open for business so we stopped for chai before making our way to Ataturk Parki to soak up the sunshine and watch the endless parade of people passing by.  From men fishing, families picnicking and young lovers walking hand in hand it reminded me just a little of Manly Beach on a Sunday morning.  I felt a little bit homesick right then (or maybe I was hungry) so we crossed back near the mosque and found a small tantuni shop open for business with the waiters more than happy to practice their English on us both.

Image

Content with our day we returned home ready to spend the late afternoon on the couch, maybe dozing with a cat on my lap but as soon as we arrived Daughter was called to visit friends (zig) and I was called down to my mother in laws for cay and to chat about my day (zag).

I could definitely get used to this life!