Tag Archives: religion

Lacey’s and Goat Stew

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A dingo ate my baby.  A good story (well not for the baby).  Or how about my dog ate my homework.  A classic tale.

But this story is better.

This is the story of a goat.  A goat that ate my undies!

baby goatKurban Bayram officially gets underway tomorrow and there are a lot of goats and sheep in the village unwillingly ready to be sacrificed.   The herder will parade the animals through the village on their way to the kurban kesme yerleri (authorised sacrifice abbatoir) although here in the village it is not unusual for people to purchase an animal as the herder goes by for sacrifice in their garden or a nearby park.

Usually the herder will not go down our street.  Between My Hurley Dog and the Rottweiler next door the crazed barking sends the already nervous animals a little deli and they tend to run amok but today the herder had such a large contingent of animals that he was trying to control that a small number did wander into our street and start chewing on the weeds and grass outside my home.  Unbeknownst to me I might add.  I was still in bed.  Having sweet dreams.  Maybe about The Hot Groom … or Brad Pitt.  Or both.  Oh my!

Now to the story about my undies.

I did a load of washing last night.  I am a good Turkish Housewife (alright that’s not entirely true).  I put the washing on the line and then sat down to watch an episode of Stranger Things (love that show).  I then went to bed to have my aforementioned sweet dreams.  Of course I woke to the sound of My Hurley Dog barking like a maniac on the terrace so I went out to corral him back inside.  I hung over the railing to have a squiz at what he was barking at.  It could have been Grey Cat.  My Hurley Dog hates Grey Cat.  Grey Cat keeps sniffing around my two remaining stray bitch cats trying to have his way with them.  It wasn’t Grey Cat.  There was, however, a bunch of goats wandering around in our little garden but that wasn’t what caught my attention.  No.  What caught my attention was one particular goat.  It was a ridiculously cute brown goat (seriously how can they kill these darlings) and it was bouncing around below me chewing on something.  It seemed quite happy unbeknownst of his forthcoming fate.  Wait a minute.  What’s that he’s eating?  I looked behind me at my clothes line.  FML!  The line was definitely heavier last night!  What’s missing?  A t-shirt.  Yes, and what else – Oh bugger!  My lacy black undies.  The expensive ones.  The ones I had just brought back from Sydney.  The ones that are used for, ahem, special occasions.

I ran down stairs to collect the pieces that had fallen off the line and to try and retrieve my special occasion undies (although I can’t imagine them possibly being salvageable).  There was a tustle.  The little brown goat won and wandered off to meet his maker happily chewing on the remnants of my undies.  His last meal before he becomes Goat Stew.

In the meantime The Turk had woken up and was sitting on the terrace below mine having a çay.  And a cigarette.  And a laugh.

I turned and gave him the finger, “If I don’t get these undies back you’re never getting laid again!”

I don’t think he really cares.

So yeah Kurban Bayraminiz kutlu olsen!

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I am Human

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This morning my heart weeps; the world has again been struck by tragedy. Over 150 victims killed in six separate terrorist attacks in and around Paris, France with IS apparently taking responsibility for these attacks.

Paris

As you all know I live in a country that is 98% Muslim.  Most Muslims are ordinary, peace-loving people with their own set of dreams and problems and should be treated with the same respect we give to any other fellow human being.  I live in a real community where love and support is evident wherever you go.  These are not people bred with hatred.

What many of you may not have known (due mainly to the fact that news coverage was nearly non-existent in other countries) is that only yesterday there was two suicide bombings attributed to IS killing 43 people in Beirut.  Another incident in Baghdad with 18 victims.  Türkiye also recently suffered at the hands of IS with an attack that killed nearly 100 people and injured over 400 more at a peace rally in Ankara.  I chose not to write about that terrorist attack in an attempt to fill my feed with only positive stories but I guess I can’t keep myself quiet today.  These attacks are not solely being directed at you or at me.  These attacks by IS are indiscriminate.  We are all targets – Muslim, Christian or other.

Today my social media newsfeed is filled with putrid spewings of hatred from people who I have long considered friends.  I have been shocked by some of the statements made.  Do you feel that way about all Muslims?  What about The Turk?  Do you feel that way about him as well?  Should he be vilified for his religion.  Of course not.  To one particular person who wrote on their Facebook that “all terrorists are Muslim” I say this to you – hate is born by people exactly like you.  You are no better than a terrorist with your rabid hatred.

Throughout history religion has been used as an excuse, or driving force, for some of the worst atrocities imaginable. From pre-history to modern history, religion is, for many people, just an excuse to kill other people. Not post 9/11.  We can go throughout history and talk of religious atrocities.  I shall name a few although honestly I shouldn’t need to.  We all learnt about them at school.  Does the Inquisition ring a bell to you?  How about those witch hunts in Massachusetts?  All about religion.  Let’s go further back in history to Roman times with Nero persecuting all Christians.  And what about Jesus?  He was persecuted for his religion as well.  Maybe we should consider the Aztecs who killed tens of thousands a year to appease the Gods.  I could continue but I won’t.

Your religion (if you have one) is only one part of who you are.  I cannot understand why we have so much hatred and violence.  The perception that people of one nationality, political affiliation, religion, or colour of skin are more superior or inferior than another. We are one people. We are all humans trying to get through this thing called LIFE. It is hard, unfair, and trying – but we all deserve a chance to live it. No one’s life should be taken by another for any reason. No one’s life is more valuable than another’s.

To those in Paris, and those affected by this horrible massacre, my thoughts are with you today.

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The Silence of the Lambs

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I don’t eat an awful lot of meat here in Turkiye.  It just doesn’t have the same taste and consistency and, frankly, my hips are thankful that I give meat a miss more often than not but the one thing I cannot avoid here in the village is my neighbours preparing a Feast of Thanks to Allah.

I always know when a neighbour is preparing a feast.  The huge pots are delivered early in the day to enable a thorough cleaning prior to cooking.  Then sheep, goats and even cows are delivered for inspection before a choice is made.  It is usually at that time I disappear and don’t come back out until morning although yesterday I walked straight past a sacrifice just as it started – devastation.  I understand why an animal is sacrificed.  I understand why it is important to the worshipper but I find the whole practice of an animal being put to death cruel and I choose to not take part in the preparation.  Before you cry “but you still eat meat” yes I do.  I am a hypocrite – I get it.

Bayram feast

The Turk’s family prepared a feast recently in memory of his mother’s passing.  This is called Yas Bayram (mourning bayram).  I know that two sheep lost their life in our driveway and I know that everyone in my family stayed up the whole night to prepare a meal of meat, rice (cous cous) and chickpeas that are then given to neighbours and the less fortunate in Refika’s memory.  I did not eat the meal that was prepared by the family and I apparently offended my sister in law in the process.  I do not regret this decision.  I miss The Turk’s mum a lot, she has a wonderful woman and think her fondly each and every day.  I do not need to take the life of an animal to remember her.

The Turk argues with me that I ate a butt load of meat back in Australia (which is why my butt is now a wide load) but more importantly I need to immerse myself in all aspects of the Turkish culture and take part in these village rituals.  I took part – I helped pay for the feast.  That is more than enough for me.

Growing up in the Sydney suburbs I was not privy to the inner workings of a farm or an abattoir.  Yes I am part of the meat and two veg lifestyle but the meat that I ate was purchased in packages and its blood isn’t staining my driveway.  An animal still died to feed me but not by my hand or by my husband’s hand or a neighbour and certainly not where I can see it die.  I guess you can ignore a lot when it is not in your face.

Daughter has often gone fought with her conscience about eating meat but here in Turkiye she pretty much has become a vegetarian.  She will not eat chicken (as she hears them clucking on every corner).  She will not eat cows or sheep (as they are often in the garden across the street although she will eat a hamburger – go figure) and she will never eat fish (more about the taste than anything else).  She is happy with her decision and I am quite proud of her for standing by her quasi morals (other than the hamburger that is).

I still love a steak and the next time I find myself at the Newport Arms Hotel (best pub lunch in Sydney) I will order the steak with pepper sauce and salad *drool* but here in Turkiye I will continue to maybe pass on the meat depending on each situation but what I wouldn’t do for a pub lunch.   Mmmmm.

Daughter’s Big Bang Theory

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As my regular followers will no doubt recall Daughter has come to blows with the Din Öğretmeni (Religion Teacher) more than once regarding her religious beliefs so this following tale should not surprise many of you.

Yesterday in Din Daughter’s Öğretmen explained to the students that they should not put up “Noel” trees as it allows students to be influenced by consumerism brought into favour by western influences.  During the months of December and January students should concentrate on their scriptures and on learning about Allah.  One of Daughter’s friends piped up and said that Daughter had a Noel tree and Daughter said, “No I have a Christmas tree”.

The conversation went down a little like this:

Öğretmen:          Are you Catholic?

Daughter:            No.

Öğretmen:          Is your father?

Daughter:            No.  He is Muslim.

Öğretmen:          Is your mother?

Daughter:            (plainly being a pain in the ass) No.  She is a practicing Buddhist.

Well at that point the Öğretmen went bright red and Daughter was certain that she was going to have a conniption.  All around Daughter friends were giggling and Daughter was, of course, enjoying the limelight immensely.

Öğretmen:          Well what religion are you?

Daughter:            I don’t believe in one God.

Öğretmen:          (clearly bothered by this statement) What?

Daughter:            I do believe in a higher entity.  I do believe in good versus evil.  I don’t believe that there is one right or wrong God or one right or wrong religion.

Öğretmen:          But who made you?

Daughter:            My Mum and Dad.

At this stage the class were laughing hysterically and the Öğretmen realises that they have moved from a Religious class to a Sex Ed class.

Öğretmen:          But who made the birds and the flowers and the trees?

Daughter:            It all started with the Big Bang – BANG!

big bang

The Turk has been called up to the school this morning.  He is wishing he stayed in Australia right now.  I am glad I am not going as I find the whole thing hilarious!

BANG!

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Kurban Bayram

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Today marks the eve of Kurban Bayram and its 4.5 day celebration.  All the households are busy with preparation for the celebration.  I am frantically cleaning as I know there will be a constant flow of guests through the door.  Daughter is crazy excited as there is no school until next Wednesday and can currently be found downstairs with her cousins while trying to round up My Hurley Dog who appears to be chasing kittens around the garden.  The Turk’s sister is arriving tomorrow with her family as well which means a very full household for the next week.

All this plus a sneaky expat get together on Saturday night means I will probably not be around for the next few days.  For those of you who are unaware of Kurban Bayram I wrote a piece last year (link below) which sums up my thoughts on this celebration.

To all my readers I say Kurban Bayramin kutlu olsen and I will be back on board next week.kurban bayram

Incidentally I don’t think the sheep are really all that happy about Bayram.  Pretty sure about that actually.

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State of Alarm

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Upfront – this is my personal opinion.  We all have them.

No doubt many of you are already aware that on Thursday the Australian Federal Police thwarted a terrorist plan by ISIS (now Islamic State) members to kidnap a random member of the public, drape them in the Islamic flag and behead him/her on camera.  Holy shit!  This is not Australia!  I cannot believe that this is even a possibility in Australia.

Since Thursday my social media (and for that matter Australian mainstream media) has exploded in anti-Muslim sentiment.  I feel I have to ask “what is happening to Australia as a nation”?

I always believed that Australia is the most tolerant country with the most tolerant citizens on earth.  Sure like all families we argue but then we have a beer and all is forgiven. Today I wonder if I am mistaken of our tolerance (Cronulla Australia Day riots aside).

Please remember not all Muslims are extremists!

Do we judge a religion by the actions of those who use and twist it’s meaning to support their extreme actions? If so where do we stop?

Shall we take the view that all Christians are evil given the findings of a Royal Commission into institutionalised child abuse? Or the deceit by Australian’s own Christian Prime Minister as common to all?

I agree wholeheartedly that people living in a country that is not their own (me included) should abide by the laws of that country and should conduct themselves in a manner that is acceptable to their adopted homeland. If you do not abide by the laws of your adopted homeland then your visa or your citizenship should be revoked and you removed from that country immediately.  Simple.

Islamic State is a growing concern to all around the world. In Turkey there is a very real concern that IS has infiltrated the country with 20+ car bombs and suicide bombers.  A very real concern by IS to attack, maim and murder Turkish Muslims. [Today’s Zaman]

Australia is a nation where we are all immigrants (other than our indigenous Aboriginals).  40 years ago it was the Wops, 20 years ago it was the Asians and today it is Muslim people who suffer from intolerance by a small minority of people.  According to the 2011 census, 476,291 people, or 2.2% of the total Australian population, were Muslims.  On Thursday 14 men were detained, not 476,291.

Where there is fear there is radical behaviour, by all of us.

40 days

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Yesterday marked 40 days since the death of my mother in law.  Another tough couple of days with tears flowing freely for Refika.  She was truly a remarkable woman and loved by so many people.

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Having never attended a Turkish funeral I really had no idea what was going to happen and due to the speed in which a funeral happens here (same day) I did not even have time to gather my thoughts or ask what to expect.

Refika had been feeling under the weather for some time.  She had had heart surgery 2 years earlier however the surgery was not a success and she had never really recovered.  She was still her welcoming and wonderful self to us when we arrived although it was obvious that she was not doing as well as she could have been.  Her death, however, was a complete shock.  I certainly did not anticipate it and when The Turk received a call from the hospital at 5 am requesting that the family attend I knew, as did he, that it was not going to be good news.

By 7 am two trucks arrived with chairs, apparently this funeral was going to be attended by hundreds of aile (family) and also her many friends that she had made over the years.  I am not exaggerating when I say there was over 400 chairs delivered and set up on the street.  A portable morgue, of sorts, was then delivered and set up in the driveway.  I was told that this was where Refika would be washed by a hodja (female washer) and prepared for her journey to paradise.

At this point I started to freak out a little as people were arriving in their droves and clearly I had no idea what was going on or what was expected of me.  Those who know me know that I am not really one to show emotion but the crying, nay wailing, that had already begun was the most awful thing I think I had ever heard in my life.  Of course I had been to funerals before.  My beloved parents, extended family members and also to support my friends in their time of grief.  I have not, however, been to anything like this.

When Refika was brought home absolute bedlam broke out.  There was a lot of screaming and wailing, a lot of tears.  The grief was almost too much for me to bear and I tried to keep out of everyone’s way but before I knew it Daughter and I were brought into the portable morgue to say goodbye.  Daughter was distraught – although I let her come to my father’s funeral two years ago that was a western funeral and quite sedate in comparison – in my mind I kept wishing she had gone to school that morning as her cousins had done to protect her from the emotion and grief.

After Refika had been washed and prepared for burial the imam (leader of Islamic community) arrived and gave a prayer.  The men then took her body and placed it in a casket where it was then settled onto the back of a truck and taken to the mezarlik (cemetery) for burial.  Interestingly women are not invited to attend at the burial.  They will attend the next morning to pay their respect.

There was a constant stream of family members attending over the next seven days.  From early morning through late in the evening there was visitors coming to pay their respects.  The mourning areas were separated – one for the men and one for the ladies.  This annoyed me as the men got to sit in the sunshine while us ladies were segregated to the rear of the property in the shade (and you wonder why people kept getting sick).  Cay was constantly being served and meals were delivered by neighbours for next seven days which is the first part of the mourning period.  By this stage I began to hide as between the tears and the stress of attending on a daily basis was beginning to take its toll on me.

On the seventh day the iman re-attended at our home and gave another prayer for Refika.  This was also the day that a sheep was sacrificed and meals were prepared for all of our neighbours and fellow mourners.  This now marked the end of the official seven days of mourning.

The next date of commemoration will be the 52nd day although again I am unsure exactly what this will entail.

I am glad that we were in Turkey before Refika passed away.  I am glad that Daughter spent at least some time every day with her.  I am glad that The Turk was able to be with her in the end and I am glad that I had met and loved this wonderful women.  She will be missed by me and missed by anyone who ever met her.

Başiniz sağ olsun (Let health be on your head)

Failing Religion

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It is now school holidays in Turkey which means that Daughter has survived her first term in the Turkish village school.  She has survived classes where no one speaks her language.  She has navigated the social minefields of school life and made friends with kids and teachers alike.  She has gotten in trouble for talking in class, picked a fight to protect a friend and even got called into the principal’s office on one occasion.  She has also received her first Ilkogretim Orgenci Karnesi.  Her Elementary Student Report Card.

How did Daughter do?

You have probably already guessed that I am not only of those mother’s who brag about how wonderful and talented and amazing their child is.  I would rather call a spade a spade.  I will merely say that for a kid who four months ago was coasting along in a suburban school in Sydney she did pretty well.  She got a Certificate for passing the term (which is a good thing apparently).  She received 4’s and 5’s for most subjects (highest is a 5).  She got a 4 in Turkce which is pretty good considering it is not her first language.  The only subject she got a “2” in is Din Kulturu ve anlak bilgisi also known as “Religion”.

Long ago I made the decision to allow Daughter to choose her own religion when she was old enough to make an informed determination.  It is not to me as the parent to force something as important as spirituality on my child.  I always gave her the information when requested.  I took her to Sunday school classes at our local church, arranged for her to meet other Muslim families in our area and even enrolled her in Buddhism classes at Bondi.  We often attended the Hari Krishna Centre at North Sydney (best vegetarian samosa’s around) and I even explained the religion of Jedism (alright so perhaps I made her watch Star Wars with me).  I gave her the tools to learn about spirituality in her own way – and she has.  This is why a double lesson of Din must send her closer to the edge and also explains why she hates her Friday’s so much.

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I have, however, made one suggestion to her –

“Please do not argue with the Din Ogretmeni (Religion Teacher) again about Islam as this causes him to go red in the face and gesticulate in a manner that made your father laugh and made me flinch.  It also means that we do not need to make another trip up to the Principal’s Office on your behalf.  Thank you.”

Kurban Bayraminiz kutlu olsen!

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Today is the first day of Kurban Bayrami (or Eid al-Adha) here in Turkey which is one of the most important holidays in the Islamic calendar and is best likened to Christmas to us heathens.  I actually had to do some research to fully understand Kurban Bayrami and why it is so important to Muslims around the world and why there has been a flurry of activity in my neighbour’s homes over the past few days.

Simply put Kurban means festival or holiday and is used to describe all national or religious holidays here.  There are two major religious holidays here in Turkiye Seker Bayram and the festival that we are celebrating now Kurban Bayram.

Kurban Bayram is a 4 1/2 day festival which takes place 70 days after Ramazan has ended.  It is known as the Festival of Sacrifice referring to the story of Abraham who was willing to sacrifice his son Ismael at God’s bequest.  Pretty much the same deal as Abraham and Isaac if you are running in Christian circles.

The festival is all about charity and community.  Each family (who can afford to do so) will purchase an animal for the sacrifice and over the past few weeks there has been an abundance of animals to be found grazing on any spare parcel of land around the city.  After the animal has had its throat cut and the life-blood has drained away the meat is split into three – one third to your family, one third to your neighbour’s and one third to the poor.  It’s a lovely idea (well except for the sacrifice that is).  If you cannot afford to purchase an animal you can make a donation to an organization such as Türk Hava Kurumu and have animals slaughtered in your name. The organization will also make sure the food is correctly distributed to the poor.

I tried to find an image to add to my blog that reflected Kurban Bayram but to be honest most of the images made me a little sick and they were way too graphic for my PG brain so perhaps this cartoon will sum it up for you (although do not ask me to translate as the only thing I could understand was “Ipneye bak” which roughly means “Look at the asshole”).

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My first experience of Kurban Bayrami was many years ago when Daughter was quite young.  I remember all the wonderful cooking and the many visitors and parties.  There was a lot of love and a lot of laughter coming from all the homes you visited.  I also remember the sacrifices being made in the local park or in our case the front garden *sigh*.  My brother in law had purchased a sheep and brought it home ready for sacrifice however Daughter saw it and thought it was a pet so placed a large pink bow around its neck.  Here the sheep stayed for two days being fed and loved by Daughter.  On the third day she ran downstairs to feed her “Baa Baa” only to find it had disappeared bringing tears and tantrums by the 3 year old.  I, of course, had to explain that her pet had gone to stay on a friend’s farm although I knew full well that the sheep was currently sitting in the refrigerator upstairs in easy to handle pieces ready for his wife to package for family and friends that evening.  A word of advice for those of you visiting family during Bayram – if you are squeamish don’t open the refrigerator!

So here we are again dressed in our finest clothes (not really), ready to celebrate Kurban Bayrami with The Turk’s family.  I reminded Daughter of “Baa Baa” last night and horrified she informed me that she is not eating any meat for the next week (or possibly ever again!).  Having heard this statement a number of times in the past I merely smiled and nodded in agreement after all I can hear the preparations that are underway for tonight’s feast.  Someone remind me to go for a run tomorrow as I know I am going to eat way too much tonight – and this is just Day 1.  They will need to roll me home after 4 days of this!

During Bayram there will also be a lot of music and dancing in the streets.  From early morning until late evening men will walk through the village banging away on their davul (drum) and playing their ney (wooden flute).  If they come to your door give them a few lira.  Don’t make the same mistake I did during my first Bayram and give 10TL because they will never leave!  Similarly the local children will also visit your door during Bayram and wish you “Iyi Bayramlar” in the hope of getting some sweets so have a bag of sweeties handy for them when they knock.

Be aware that during any national holiday here in Turkey most shops, banks and government offices are closed.  Leading up to Bayrami the shopping centres are overflowing with people stocking up on everything they will need over the coming festival days.  There is also a lot of people on the roads with family members travelling great distances to visit loved ones.  Intercity buses are packed, flights are sold out and public transport operates on a holiday schedule so you may find yourself waiting some time for a dolmus (I know I did).

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