Tag Archives: child

School Concert

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The elementary school across the street had their end of year concert last night.  The concert was actually supposed to take place a week ago however it was cancelled due to a man being stabbed behind the school who subsequently died.  I guess that would make it a murder.  Yep there was a murder across the street so the concert was cancelled as the school (and no doubt the Polis) were concerned that there would be retaliation (as the two boys charged were Kurdish not Turkish).

I have never really experienced any discrimination in my life.  Women have always had rights and there was never really any racial slurring while I was growing up so for me witnessing the anger and blame being placed firmly on a group of people is a new and honestly, slightly terrifying, experience.  The history between the Turkish people and the Kurdish is lengthy and full of acrimony on both sides.  For me I watch the behaviour of levelheaded men in the village become completely irrational calling for the blood of the two boys who were charged with the murder.  I understand from The Turk that Polis attended at the funeral each day to keep everyone in order and to ensure that there was no vigilante justice against the two boys who were charged since they were juveniles and were released on bail.

Surrounded by all this acrimony it was good to see the school press forward with the end of year concert once the mourning period had ended.  Like schools all around the world the concert is a chance for the kids to show off their dancing skills and for raising some much needed funds for the next school year.  The concert itself was a mix of modern music (and by modern I mean the Grease Mega-mix) as well as some traditional Turkish music.  Living across the road from the school I have watched the youngsters practicing their dance steps for months, literally months.  If I have to hear the Grease Mega-mix again I may throw myself off the balcony.  My sister in law laughed and told me they do the same dances every year so no doubt I will be listening to it again over and over next year.

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There was a lot of choice for food with stalls including Gozleme, Icel Kofte and Tantuni.  I particularly like the fact that the Gozleme vendors set up cooking on the floor in the school hallway.  You don’t see that every day for sure.

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A raffle was also drawn with the winners getting a bike.  This was a big drawcard and I understand the school and raised enough money to purchase a new computer and perhaps even to give the school a fresh coat of paint over the three month break.

A fun night was had by all as shown here by Daughter who decided to try her hand at the traditional dancing.  Perhaps not.

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Introducing The Turk

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He is part adult, part baby.  He is emotional, overly emotional, passionately emotional.  He can be selfish.  He is stubborn.  He smokes.  He drinks too much.  He is a terrible driver.  He is argumentative.  He is dedicated to his family – too much so.  His crazy antics are the reason why the grey hairs on my now blonde head appear more often than they ought.  Only him.

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On a good day he is an acceptable human being.  He likes to clean.  He likes to cook.  He likes me.  On a good day.

On a bad day it is clear that I have upset the Gods and they have sent this demon monster to me as punishment for my wrongdoing.  My mother in law had a ‘whacking stick’ that she used on the stray cats if they made their way a little too close to the front door of her house.  I had also seen her use her ‘whacking stick’ on both The Turk and his brothers more than one.  I have decided I need a ‘whacking stick’.  I will keep it next to the front door where I keep the slippers for visitors.  If The Turk gets a little out of control I can grab my ‘whacking stick’ and wield it around like a big ass shiny sword.

In case you are wondering my Dad actually did like The Turk.  Not at first.  Not when you get his only daughter “knocked up” but he came around eventually.  He didn’t love him but he liked him all the same.  He said we were “well matched” and “both as ridiculous as each other”.  There you have it.

Daughter has another ear infection.  Her own fault.  She runs around in mid riff tops and cut off shorts most of the time and she will not take the medicine prescribed by the Doctor.  Last night she was very, very sick.  Ear aches.  Stomach aches.  You name it, she was suffering from it.  The Turk aka the most childish, spoilt, overly emotional pain in my ass that every existed spent the night sitting next to Daughter’s bed.  If the blankets were pushed off he put them back on.  Is it too hot?  He adjusted the air con (incidentally it is too bloody hot).  When she woke uneasily after a disjointed dream he shushed her back to sleep.  He offered to sing to her at one point but I heard her shout “NO”, we only need one rock star in the family after all.

I still need a whacking stick but perhaps I will not need to use one today.  Not today.

Rise and Shine

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School in Turkey is completely different to school in Australia.  In Australia school starts at the most civilised hour of 9 am and finishes at the very acceptable hour of 3 pm.  This allows you (and your brood) a decent sleep and leaving enough time for afternoon activities.  Here in Turkey Daughter starts school at the most uncivilised hour of 7 am and finishes at the completely unacceptable 12 noon.  This means I am dealing with a complete grump in the morning and, as for me, I can never get everything done in the few hours allocated as child free time.

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There are advantages to a Turkish education in Daughter’s mind.  Yes she loves the fact that she is at school for one hour less here in Turkey.  She now has a butt load of free time in the afternoon to run amok with her friends.  Another bonus in Daughter’s mind is the fact that each lesson seems to run for approximately 20 minutes with a 10 minute break for toilet or canteen visits (although the toilets are squat toilets and never seem to have any toilet paper which is more horrific to an 11 year old than anything she has gone through so far).

Returning to my point – Daughter has to get up at 5.40 am.  This ridiculously early start is required to give her enough time to get ready, whinge, drink a coffee(!), whinge, eat breakfast and whinge some more before her servis comes to collect her at 6.35 am.   The reality is that she whinges – a lot – in the morning.

I have tried lots of different tactics to make the morning starts a little easier on everyone.

Get her to bed early.  This is usually difficult as Turkey seems to be a country of night time frivolities.  Lots of visitors, loads of food, occasional dancing and music and Daughter being Daughter will not miss out on a party, even if she is the only one at the party.

Blackmail (also called Negotiation)

You’ve all done it – don’t lie.

Responsibility

I gave the responsibility to Daughter.  Brought her an alarm clock.  Set it and did not get out of bed to help her get ready for school.  This option failed dismally as she missed her servis three days in a row and in fact missed school twice!

H-e-e-l-l-l-p-p-p-p!

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I put it to you – how do you get your child up for school when it is pitch black outside.  How do you motivate them enough to get ready for school when they hate you or hate life or hate the world.  And finally, how do you get your child to stop hating you or hating life or hating the world!