Tag Archives: Turkish

My Precious, My Kimlik

Posted on by

Nerd Alert – I find myself constantly referring to Lord of The Rings in this post.  My apologies.

I wanted to do a post about obtaining my Turkish citizenship but as it would no doubt be longer than my collector’s edition of Lord of The Rings (a total of 1,215 pages for those interested) I kept putting it off in lieu of, oh I don’t know, having a colonoscopy or maybe root canal surgery or even spending an evening having my finger nails pulled out by the likes of Sauron, Osama Bin Laden or Donald Trump.

The ringAnyway, so I kept putting it off waiting for hell to freeze over but as we are now in spring and we have already hit the 30’s a few times here in Mersin it is clear that the second coming isn’t going to be knocking on my door any time soon and so … I give you … the story of my citizenship.

Before I go any further let me get the important stuff out of the way before I start banging on with my unnecessarily long diatribe.

You will need:
• Passport
• Birth certificate
• If you are married to a Turkish national, official documents confirming the identities and family ties of the spouse and all underage children (can be obtained from Nufus ofis)
• Marriage Certificate (in my case)
• Certificate of your ability to speak Turkish (well I think we all know that I did not have that document)
• A medical certificate confirming that you are of good health (obtained at any hastane)
• Four passport sized photographs (bollocks!  Get 10 and then get another 10)
• Completed application forms (we obtained from Emniyet but as mentioned now issued by Nufus ofis)

All documents issued overseas must be translated and notarized.

There will also be unannounced polis checks made to your home, polis reports made back in your home country and fingerprinting done.  It is very thorough.

My one piece of advice to each of you currently thinking about or obtaining citizenship here in Turkey is perseverance is the key.  Be prepared to chase up the documents.  Be prepared to make a nuisance of yourself.  Be prepared to smile despite the fact that you want to rip off someone’s head and be prepared to be in their face as often as you can to ensure that they won’t forget about your application or put it to the side while they watch YouTube on their computer.

Timing wise Mersin seems to be dragging its heels with other cities churning out an approval at a much, MUCH, faster pace.  For me citizenship took nearly 3 years but I understand that some cities can knock over a citizenship application in only 6 months.  Lucky bastards!

Alright.  Pull up a chair, pour yourself a glass of whatever makes you feel good and … let’s go!

When I first applied for citizenship here in Mersin, nearly 156 weeks ago, I applied at the Emniyet.  Since my application the system has been streamlined *cough cough* and now you apply directly to the İl Nüfus ve Vatandaşlık Müdürlüğü (City Population and Citizenship Directorate).

After six months we chased up the application and I have previously written about that incident here.  Another couple of months passed and I was called in to the karakol (police station) for what an interview that will forevermore be called as “The Inquisition”.  In the meantime I had polis attend at our house twice to ensure that The Turk and I were in fact in a real relationship.  All seemed in order.

Right now my application seemed to be coming along nicely however not fast enough and I had to apply for an extension to my Residence Permit (one more year I swear).

Coming into my second year my frustration levels were rising and The Turk was not interested in chasing up the application anymore.  I was at the end of my tether when we got the call from the Nufus ofis.  An interview date with the Vali (Governor) had been set for six weeks’ time however as I had already arranged a trip during that period we were pushed back for the next possible date … a further 8 weeks down the track.  I was happy with that because it gave me time to throw myself into learning the language and so I spent the next 14 weeks having Turkish lessons so I could wow the Vali with my excellent language skills.

Of course on the day I was crapping myself because my language skills sucked and by the time I went to meet the Governator (typo but I’m keeping it) I was so nervous I nearly vomited.  It was crystal clear that I was going to fail the Turkish component of the interview (particularly after the earlier mentioned Inquisition) and they wouldn’t sign off on my application.  Instead they would hate me on sight and immediately throw me out of the country!  Well.  Seriously.  No issue.  Other than a hearty merhaba the panel of professionals that held the interview (there were 3 at my interview plus the Governator) didn’t even look in my direction.  The entire conversation was held in Turkish and was entirely held with The Turk.  Everyone shook hands and we left.  All the paperwork was now to on its way to Ankara for a final decision.  (I will say that I understand this is not a normal interview.  I will say that everyone that I have spoken to has had extremely different experiences when they have had this final interview.  I feel that perhaps the sun was shining down on me that day.)

Woo hoo!!!  Any day now peeps!

NOT!

Time passed and again I needed to renew my Resident’s Permit … again.  So frustrating!  It was then that I put The Turk on notice.  I’m not going through the rigmarole of renewing my RP a fourth time.  If I do not have citizenship by the expiration of this current RP I was moving back to Australia.

And that brings us to December last year when I returned from a girlie weekend in Germany and was asked at the airport to provide my kimlik (Identity Card).  Ummm?  Huh???  WTF???

That Monday we attended at the Nufus ofis with a spring in our step and requested an update.  There was much excitement when we walked in and they congratulated The Turk on his perseverance (hello what about congratulating me for putting up with all this shite?) and they handed to us an envelope.  I felt like a presenter at the Academy Awards … “and the winner is …”  Inside was the Onay Duyu Belgesi (Certificate of Approval).  Wow.  Thank you.  Only 1095 days after my original application peeps!

And this is when it all goes south …

We were told that the polis would attend at our home again in the next few days and once that was done the kimlik will be issued.  Hold on a minute!  I was told at the airport that the kimlik had already issued and this document that I am holding in my hot little hands is a Certificate of Approval.  Are we in the Twilight Zone?  No, you are Turkish now but we just need to follow procedure.  Of course.  We waited four weeks but the polis did not appear.  The Turk started returning to the Nufus each week to try and move the matter forward but to no avail.

In the meantime an expat friend here in Mersin who had lodged her citizenship application approximately the same time as me (did I mention it was nearly 3 years ago) also received her Onay Duyu Belgesi in her precious envelope and within a week she had received her kimlik!  What the holy hell?

Another couple of weeks went by.  Anything?  Nope.  Nothing.

So we went back.  And this is what happened:

Go to the Nufus.  Sorry.  Polis check needed.

Nope.  On the advice of my kimlik holding expat friend I confirmed online that the law has now changed and a further Polis check is not necessary.

Back to the Nufus.  Dude the law has changed.  Check it!  No, he tells us.  It has now changed again.  Seriously?  In the space of 3 days?  Sorry.  Wait for Polis check.  Dude I’m telling ya check it again!

OK yes you are right.  Go to Emniyet.

Went to Emniyet.  Sorry.  Go to the Nufus.

Back to the Nufus.  Waiting on Polis check.

Are you fecking serious?  The stupid is so stupid that it actually crushes you until you become as stupid as the stupid!

 

The finger

We began to experience life at the rate of several WTF’s per hour and The Turk just couldn’t take anymore.  His sanity was being held together by duct tape and chewing gum.  I wasn’t sure if he would go postal or would have a heart attack and drop dead on the spot (which would no doubt delay the issue of the kimlik yet again) but instead he sensibly went to see our local Belediye Başkanı (mayor) here in the Village for a little advice.  The mayor rang the patron at the Nufus who confirmed that the kimlik should have already issued.  Feck my life!

The next day we again attended at the Nufus where we by-passed all the plebs and went straight to the patron.  He took us over to the appropriate desk jockey and instructed him to issue the kimlik immediately.  Five minutes later … Sorry.  No polis check.  Come back after polis check.

Now being a patient, gentle sort of girl I generally don’t worry about the little things but when the imaginary people in my head start shouting, “no fecking no you feckity feck!” I know things aren’t really going the way they ought!

I looked around for a nice strong looking pillar so I could smash my head into it but instead we went back to see the patron, who took us back to see the pencil pusher, who grumbled under his breath like a petulant toddler until … finally … it happened … nearly three years but … I got my KIMLIK!!!!

Yes peeps to quote the fabled Mr Frodo Baggins, “It’s done, it’s finished”.  No more do I have to enter the gates of Modor.  I had returned the ring to its rightful place and I can now rest easy.  I wanted to high five the pleb/desk jockey/pencil pusher/sulky child but thought better of it.  I walked out of the Nufus ofis with my head held high and a great big smile on my dial.

Its done

I am a Turkish citizen.  The short line at the airport is now MY line!  Oh and I am no longer a yabancı and woe be it to anyone who dares call me one!

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like you, knows I swear WAY too much and love Turkey. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

 

Mustang

Posted on by

Daughter recently went to Ankara where she, along with some of her classmates, were chosen to represent their school as members of JMUNESCO (Junior Model United Nationals Educational Scientific Cultural Organisation).  JMUNESCO was designed to model the United Nations and to educate students around the world about issues we currently face today.  One of the topics at this year’s JMUNESCO was women and children’s rights in second world countries and during her research on this topic she came across the 2016 Oscar nominated foreign film “Mustang”.

mustang 4Mustang tells the story of five sisters who are learning about friendship, love and most importantly the unjust lives of some women growing up in rural Turkey.  After an innocent afternoon at the beach with some male classmates, the sisters find themselves being imprisoned in their home by their guardians who are concerned that the girls will be seen as ‘sullied’.  From virginity tests (yes really), the undercurrent of incestual rape, teenage suicide and the very real possibility of being married off to strangers this film is tender, funny, and painful all rolled into a storyline that, as the mother of a thirteen year old girl, terrifies me to think that this behaviour still occurs today.   I watched the movie in Turkish (yes even with my limited knowledge of the language) but I believe it is available with English subtitles.  Spoiler: keep tissues handy because you are going to need them.

Daughter lives on the cusp of traditional Turkey and modern Turkey.  Here in the Village she sees not just how things ‘used’ to be but how they in fact still are.  It is not uncommon for girls to leave school, get married and have children when they are no more than children themselves.  That is their life.  Bitmiş.  Here in the Village Daughter dresses fairly conservatively and although she fights the system (me) she knows that this is just ‘how it is’ but once outside of the Village she will dance all night, wear cute clothes, hang out with friends and, generally speaking, not have fussy adults (again that’s me) always telling her what she can and can’t do.

Daughter knows that her future will include, but is not limited to, finishing her schooling, travelling the world, marrying a certain bass player (in the far, far distant future) and taking every opportunity available to her because that’s precisely how life should be. _________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, believe women should be treated equally to men and love Türkiye. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

 

 

How many times?

Posted on by

I pulled a post yesterday about the purported death in prison of Ahmet Suphi Altındöken who was sentenced aggravated life in prison for the brutal murder of 20 year old  Özgecan Aslan in February 2015.  Although local media here in Mersin have reported his death there has not been anything posted nationally and so I thought it prudent to remove the post rather than spreading possible untruths (although if he had been killed he so totally deserved it and kudos to the dude that took him out).

Aslan

But it does bring to mind the fact that Turkey does have a serious problem with male violence against women, along with other types of sexual assault with “victim blaming” being a large part of defence by the perpetrators.  I recently read an article by Ayşe Arman headed “Was she wearing a mini skirt?”.  Ayşe points out that there should be no “buts” or “howevers” when dealing with a rape victim or the victim of violent crime.  Ayşe wants to see the maximum punishment for the attacker however due to the current unfathomable laws here in Turkey even a violent offender can have his sentence reduced thanks to the “good conduct” law.  What is this nonsense you wonder?  Simply put if the perpetrator behaves himself in Court and dresses well then he can be given a reduced sentence.  Yep.  This shit is real!

The website Bianet reported that, in 2015, there were 1,294 cases of violence by men against women including the murder of 284 women as well as 19 children living with them, while at least 133 women were raped.  Meanwhile a website dedicated to tracking femicide victims, kadincinayetleri, states that more than 1,100 women have been killed by men since 2011. According to the website, in 608 of the cases, the murderers were husbands or ex-husbands of the victims.  For those of you living in Turkey hop on this site and have a look at where you live.  The stats will frighten you.

Late last year the opposition party Republican People’s Party (CHP) submitted a law, dubbed the “Özgecan Law” to increase the penalties in sexual assault cases and assault against women in general.  Unfortunately that law has not yet come to fruition as it appears to have been criticized by a lawyers ‘apparently’ advocating women’s rights who claimed that heavier sentences would increase the brutality of future violence as those involved would want to destroy any evidence.  *shaking my head in disbelief*

And so here in Turkey we continue to live in a society where their leader has been quoted as saying “women and men are not equal” and and just to clarify these outdated statements were made in the year 2014 not by some Sultan of yesteryear.  I know right?

When I first wrote about Özgecan last year I finished my post with a Maya Angelou quote.  I think that quote still stands true today:

“History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again”

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, believe women should be treated equally to men and love Türkiye. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

 

Why I blog

Posted on by

Over the course of my life I have embraced a number of different hobbies.  When I was younger my life revolved around sports.  I played netball.  I ran (and I was good at it … until I got boobs that is).  I was an active SOB but as I have gotten older and due to various injuries I gave up sport which, in hindsight, was a huge mistake (or so says my ass) but that is neither here nor there.  I also loved to travel (of course), loved spending time with my friends and family and when I had some down time I could be found buried in a book but like most things your life changes, I had Daughter, got married to The Turk and real life took over.

seni_seviyorum

The one thing that has remained constant since childhood is my love of writing.  I always have written tomes about magical adventures, or a memoir about my overly dramatic life or even a fanfic or two (before they became a thing of course).  I have knocked out tens of novels (all discarded) and today I write about my new home in a land filled with crazy Turks.

As you know I started blogging as a personal tool to journal the changes that my family was making but as I developed my style I found that before too long there were people reading what I wrote, and not just my 3 friends back home, but real people – you guys!  Some days had huge jumps in readers and follows and others days I just plodded along, happy as always.  I don’t need numbers.  I don’t need accolades … although …

I do want to thank each and every one of you who voted for me in the “Top 100 International Exchange and Expats Blogs 2016” because –

Janey in Mersin was voted among the top 10 (no 9 in fact) in the Top 100 International Exchange and Expats Blogs inIX16 on bab.la!  And yes I got a prize – 3 months language lessons.  I was thinking of taking French lessons but The Turk has suggested otherwise.

Thank you all so much for believing in me and my writing.

Yah you guys!! Teşekkür ederim.

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, love writing and love Türkiye. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

 

Nemesis Update

Posted on by

Upfront a disclosure – I can be a bit of a bitch when I am tired.  Fact.  And today I am tired.  I am tired and I am bitter and I feel that this post is going to be long, boring tirade about my Nemesis and everyone connected with him so feel free to close the page, go back to your knitting or get out and enjoy some fresh air.  Here we go …

???????????????????????

I hate my neighbours, I really do.  Not the Family, although they drive me nuts and there will no doubt be a post dedicated to one particular SIL shortly (I am just waiting for the current drama to implode and then I can take some photos) but no, today’s rant is about the neighbours behind us, the owner of my current Nemesis.

My mum used to have a saying “if you keep making that face it will stay that way forever” well this particular neighbour obviously never listened to her mother because she always – ALWAYS – has a nasty ass look on her face.  She has the crazy eyes and to be honest she freaks me out a little, like I fear retaliation at some point in my future if I say anything against her.  But enough is enough.

crazy eyes 1

This morning my fecking Nemesis started his cock-a-fecking-doodle-doo-ing at 3:20 and he has been cock-a-fecking-doodle-doo-ing constantly every 20 minutes although right now he has returned to snoozeville and I am contemplating going down to his coop and yelling cock-a-fecking-doodle-doo in his fecking face!

I want to tell you sleep deprivation is not fecking funny it’s a serious form of torture.  I bet it was used at Guantanamo Bay and shite because this is the worst thing you can seriously do to someone. It is worse than a papercut and we all know how much they suck!  Let me tell you when my nemesis begins his hellish crow I am dragged kicking and screaming from my dream (no doubt Brad Pitt related) where I awake in darkness, disorientated and with a little bit of the crazy eyes myself.  By the time I have resettled and start to return to my ‘50 Shades of Grey’ inspired dream (I have never actually read 50 Shades of Grey but feel that a colouring book with only the colour available can’t be that great.  Sorry?  What?  It’s not a colouring book?  My bad) the Nemesis starts again like a record player stuck on Britney Spears, or worse still, Iggy Azalea.

A couple of weeks back an expat buddy told me a story of when she lived in Marmaris and had a similar Nemesis situation so she ‘encouraged’ her Nemesis to move down the street and away from her house.  Her Nemesis never returned.  I tried this tactic the other morning with My Hurley Dog and I corralling my Nemesis a couple of blocks from our house but my Nemesis seems to have a homing beacon because he fecking beat me home!

Now before you all tell me to ‘Love Thy Neighbour’ and all that shite I did go and speak to her in my limited Turkish and with a big ass smile on my dial.  My heart wanted me to go over there and scream blue murder but because of my fear of retaliation and, you know, the crazy eyes, I asked very PG nicely if she could move the coop.  In reply I got the crazy eyes, some random yelling that I couldn’t understand and, worse still, she did the ‘tsk’ (you know the ‘tsk’ that awful sound with the head jerk which signifies NO in a uniquely Turkish manner).

I find myself spending my day thinking up ways to punish her and to punish her family and to punish her friends and to punish that fecking cock-a-fecking-doodle-doo rooster of hers.  The next time I speak to her it will go a little something like this:

“if you get rid of the rooster now, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you”.

Too much?  I can’t say this today of course as my Turkish still sucks but if someone could translate it into Turkish then I will study it and then at the appropriate time and at an appropriate distance (ever fearful of the crazy eyes) say it menacingly at her Liam Neeson style.

I may never recover from my current psychological break and if you never hear from me again I have no doubt been dragged off to the looney bin or worse still bitch has gone all crazy eyes on me and I’m probably chicken feed.  Ick!

Today The Turk is going to speak to her husband.  He won’t speak to her.  He is also fearful of the crazy eyes coming at him or maybe finding one of our stray’s heads in our bed in retaliation!  Bitch be cray-cray!

Cock-a-doodle-doo motherfecker!

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, have a nemesis and love Türkiye. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

Dirty Laundry

Posted on by

It’s been a busy few weeks for me here in the Village but thankfully yesterday gave me a reprieve of sorts and I was able to spend the day playing catch up.  Catching up on cleaning and catching up on the piles of laundry that never seems to diminish and just catching up on life in general.

refugees 1

With my second load of laundry drying on the balcony I took the third load down to SIL’s line knowing that it would be under the watchful eye of FIL who was sitting in the sunshine warming his bones.  A couple of hours later I went back downstairs to bring the washing in only to find that it was missing.  It had been stolen.  All of it!

What was stolen?  Two pairs of men’s jeans, two men’s sweaters, a shirt, copious pairs of The Turk’s underwear (with Batman on the front) and The Turk’s funeral jacket (which has been overused this week with 3 funerals – 3 funerals!!  I know right?).  Also stolen were two pairs of The Turk’s shoes, a pair of my gumboots and an old pair of Daughter’s converse.  I can be cynical right now and start cursing these people who stole The Turk’s Batman undies or I can hope that whoever took the clothes needed them more than we do.

As I walk around the Village I pass many new faces.  The Village has had a transformation of sorts over the past three years since we moved here due to the influx of refugees living in Mersin.  In fact the city of Mersin with its population of over 1 million people is thought to have (officially) more than 150,000 Syrian refugees (unofficially that number is likely closer to 350,000) based here waiting in limbo between the hells of war and an uncertain emigration to Europe either by boat or overland.  We should also not forget that the escape to Europe by boat is still very much a dangerous proposition and, although it is no longer headline news, there are still too many deaths happening off the Turkish coastline.

Some refugees are making a new life for themselves here in Mersin.  They have taken apartments, their children go to schools and they have integrated into the Turkish way of life but these are the minority as way too many refugees just do not have the capital with their lifesavings paying for their trip across the Mediterranean Sea.  Arabic signs have been installed in many shops now and rather than the shopkeeper knowing English they all now seem to be proficient in Arabic.  There has also been the opening of NGO’s around Mersin to assist those refugees who have decided to make Mersin their home rather than attempt the dangerous crossing to Europe.  The NGO in Mezitli is a huge success offering a Syrian curriculum to 2,000 pupils in its own school, manages a clinic and eases administrative formalities for refugees.

Turkey’s recent agreement with EU leaders to receive 3 billion euros ($3.3 billion) as part of a package of incentives aimed at persuading it to do more to stop the thousands upon thousands of migrants leaving for Europe is a great beginning to supporting the refugees however the concern for Turkey is that if the refugees treks are halted here then this influx of population will put more of a strain on this country’s resources and on the already overflowing population.  The Turkish people, widely known for their generosity, are finding it difficult to smile through the cost to them personally.  Lower paid workers are suffering with Syrians willing to do manual labour at half of the rate of a Turkish worker.  Right now I can’t see an viable solution to this situation and the overwhelming wave of displaced people now no longer on Turkey’s doorstep but rather in its living room.  Frankly Turkey is going to need more than a short term answer of monetry aid, it is going to need the whole world to work together to help the refugees either return safely to their homes or to help them assimilate into their new homes whether it be here in Turkey or further abroad.

The city of Mersin is changing quite dramatically as is the Village.  To the person who is the proud owner of The Turk’s Batman underwear I hope you enjoy them and I hope you and your family make it to wherever you are attempting to go.  I did ask FIL if he saw someone steal our clothes and he nodded and laughed.  Seriously this guy is bat shit crazy!

Photo credit: Fabio Bucciarelli for Al Jazeera America

Side note: For those of you who recall my recent post Waiting for the Tulips to Bloom the writer of that book Lisa Morrow has been working with an NGO in Istanbul called “Small Projects Istanbul” who, similarly to the NGO in Mezitli, Mersin, assist with education, and formalities for refugees living in Istanbul.  Lisa has generously agreed to donate AUD$1.00 for every one of her books sold for the month of February so anyone wanting to help should grab one of Lisa’s wonderful books on either Kindle or hard copy from Amazon.  Also Small Projects Istanbul have a craft collective where Syrian refugee women have the opportunity to develop skills in handcrafts and earn livelihood support to help them rebuild their lives.  They sell their handcrafts here.

 

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, have had their eyes opened to the suffering of refugees and love Turkey. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

I’ve Been Nominated

Posted on by

I am lucky enough to have been nominated for IX16 Top 100 International Exchange and Experience Blogs.  I am feeling quite chuffed right now and am asking for your help.  There are no doubt many, many fantastic and deserving blogs out there but would appreciate if you would take a minute to vote for Janey … In Mersin through this link –

http://en.bab.la/news/top-100-international-exchange-experience-blogs-2016

collage

It’s a bit of a pain to scroll through but find Janey … In Mersin.  Give it a click and fingers crossed.  The prize isn’t money, its probably better (well in my case anyway).  It’s one year of Turkish lessons with Babbel (which of course I desperately need).

Now if you guys need some encouragement here are a few of my most popular posts –

How about that time I fell down a hole

Or that time I complained for months about the weather

Wordy wisdoms by The Turk or maybe you might like

The Turkish Moustache

You only need to vote once so get cracking!

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like you, love this blog (hint, hint) and love Turkey. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

 

 

What would you do?

Posted on by

The rather morbid question was put to me yesterday which made me stop for a moment and think … just a little bit.  I love it in Mersin.  I really do.  I’ve got some great friends and am surrounded by some great family (*cough, cough*) but … BUT …

“what would I do if (if???) The Turk passed away?”

Interesting.  What would I do?

cenaze-islemleri

I am not talking about legalities and all the rest of it.  Having worked in the legal field for 25+ years I’ve got a pretty good grasp of the law both in Australia and in Türkiye regarding the death of a spouse.  Yes we both have Wills.  Yes, both here and in Australia.  Do you have one?  If not you should.  Also all of our properties here in Türkiye are in both names as are our bank accounts.  Are yours?  If not, they should be.  It is not unusual for a Will to be challenged by family members so better to be safe than sorry.  Of course it won’t happen to you … but just in case.

Back in Oz I was extremely independent.  I looked after myself and didn’t need to rely on others for assistance but here everything is difficult.  How would I cope with the day to day crap that goes on here?  I may be a Türk citizen but Türkiye is not my original homeland and my Türk language skills are way below par.  But even my lost independence and language issue is not my real concern.  My real concern – my only concern – is Daughter and when it comes down to it, Daughter is happy here.

Would I uproot Daughter again unnecessarily?  Probably not.

Would I move to perhaps a more yabancı friendly area?  Tempting, but no.

Would I date?  Feck no (unless Brad Pitt tossed that skinny, lippy brunette).

Would I move back to Australia after Daughter has grown up (married Calum Hood) and moved on with her own life?  In a heartbeat!

So I guess that’s my answer.  For now.  But here’s hoping that I don’t really need to think about this for a while at least.

When discussed with The Turk last night his reply was akin to the great Mr Bennett (you know how I love to quote Pride and Prejudice):

“My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves, that I might outlive you.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, loves their amazing life and loves Türkiye. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

Ho Ho Ho!

Posted on by

It’s just after midnight here in Mersin which means today is Christmas Eve.  Santa has already given me my Christmas present as on Wednesday I was given the all clear from the doctor and could get out of the house and frantically finish (read that as ‘start’) my Christmas shopping.

Thanks to social media I know that back home in Oz friends are indulging in some early celebrations with photos at packed beaches, parties on Sydney Harbour, leisurely lunches and generally having a merry old time.  They are frantically hitting the shops to buy their prawns and oysters, as well as mangoes and avocados all in readiness for their Christmas celebration whether it will be at the beach or by the pool or even a barbie in the backyard.  Ah Sydney – I can dream can’t I?

Christmas in Sydney

Here in Mersin, Christmas has been a pretty low key affair; in fact the last few years have been positively depressing.  On our actual first Christmas Day here I made a huge fuss and arranged a full Christmas lunch for the family with presents for everyone.  Unfortunately none of them came because, well, it was just Wednesday to them (plus most of them work and were unable to take a day off).  Having learned my lesson last year The Turk took Daughter and I out for lunch which was nice but not really special or Christmassy at all.

This year, however, I am excited at the prospect of Christmas Day as I have been invited to a friend’s house for lunch.  I am told, however, that calling tomorrow ‘Christmas lunch’ is not giving justice to the day or the meal for that matter.  This is no mere Christmas lunch; this will be a Christmas extravaganza.  There will be pork, and bacon (Eeekkk!).  There will be turkey (yes haha turkey in Turkey – hilarious).  There will be prawns.  There will be gravy and oodles of vegetables, and sugary biscuits and lots of Gluehwein.  There will be something called an Eton Mess and finally there will also be ox tongue (I’m not really sure what to say about that but it’s apparently a tradition).  This will not be a mere lunch either.  This is an all day, into the night and with the possibility of continuing into Boxing Day spectacular.  I am thinking of wearing my tracksuit pants as they are stretchy enough to sustain themselves throughout what will no doubt be a wonderful day full of great friends, lots of laughter and waaayyy too much food.

ChristmasDinner

To all of you who follow my ridiculous antics here in Mersin I say thank you and may all your Christmas wishes come true.

See you in 2016!  2016???  Crikey!

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, loves Christmas and also loves Türkiye. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.

Gotta Cut Footloose

Posted on by

I was wheeled into the ER where, in a scene reminiscent to Gone With The Wind, two nurses held me down while the doctor cut open my foot with a scalpel.

footloose

That is a very dramatic opening to this post isn’t it?  And it’s all true!

Let’s go back a few days shall we?

I had been a busy bee this past week.  Making sarma.  Family commitments.  Christmas shopping.  Lunch with the girls.  Busy.  Busy.  Busy.  I noticed I had a bit of a niggle in my foot but, thanks to Google, I quickly self-diagnosed as Athletes Foot and asked The Turk (aka My Ex-Husband) to get me some spray next time he went into the city.  Of course he forgot each and every time thus why he will forevermore be known as My Ex-Husband.

Thursday morning I thought I should perhaps take myself down to the local clinic in the village to have a squiz at my foot.  The happy little doctor there (whom My Ex-Husband calls ‘the amateur’) told me it was mantar which confused me greatly as this means mushroom in Türk but, as I now understand, also means fungus.  This is beginning to get a little gross isn’t it?  Anyway, he gave me a spray and sent me on my way.

I really wasn’t feeling too special by Friday.  Dropped Daughter at school.  Took My Hurley Dog for a walk and then came home and collapsed.  My foot was aching and had swollen to the size of a cantaloupe but I soldiered on with the spray and a few Panadol.  By 8pm it was clear that I was dying and was immediately bundled off to hospital.  The doctor diagnosed an abscess and immediately removed an excess of liquid (I refuse to use the word ‘pus’) and sent me home after a shot of the unknown mystical ‘serum’ into my ass and a bundle of pills to keep me happy.

By Saturday my foot was the size of a watermelon and a constant flow of pus (yes I am calling it pus now) was oozing from my now open (due to stitches popping) wound.  I also had a wonderful new symptom of a rash all over my body and a red streak running up my leg!  Feck!

Arriving back at the hospital The Turk (yes redeemed himself and is back to being The Turk rather than My Ex-Husband) went nuts getting immediate attention by staff and I was wheeled straight into the ER where a doctor with a fecking big scalpel set to work on my foot.

While I was being operated on a very nosy teyze (teyze means aunt but it is also used when you speak to any other older person even if you do not know them which was the case here) was nearby in the ER and she came over to examine my foot (as you do).  Like all teyze she was extremely vocal and helpful by letting me know that my foot was gangrene and that it would need to be amputated.  She knew this, of course, because her husband had just had his foot cut off and was in the bed down the row!  As I lay on my bed while the doctor continued to cut into my foot (without any anaesthetic mind you) I thanked teyze for her helpful advice and I updated my FB status thusly –

Screenshot

I obviously should have explained that this status update was made in jest because within minutes my phone blew up with messages and calls from friends both here and back in Oz worried that I really was going to lose my foot!   The doctor diligently working on me even stopped his very important work and watched me curiously as my mobile kept beeping and ringing with anxious queries from friends before shaking his head, calling me something under his breath (which included the word yabancı mind you) – and took my phone off me!!!

Now it is Sunday morning and my foot has receded back to a small cantaloupe.  The red streak seems to be disappearing however the rash is still covering my entire body.  On the bright side nosy teyze was completely wrong with her medical diagnosis – and I still have two feet!

_________________________________________________________________________

Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like me, loves a helpful teyze and also loves Türkiye. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.