Tag Archives: Turkiye

Do you ever shut up?

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You know that thing where you realize you are talking too much, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from talking, and then you just keep talking and talking and talking and in your head you keep telling yourself to shut the feck up but somehow your mouth doesn’t get the message and then you start to panic because you realize how annoying it must be for the other person but you just keep talking and talking and talking? Well this happens to me all the time and I really need to make it stop!

pap smear

This time my verbal diarrhoea happened while I was having my pap smear.  I hate having pap smears, every woman hates having pap smears.  It is a well-documented fact. I put them off as long as possible which is probably how I got myself into this mess in the first place.  Ladies – don’t neglect your pap smear!

Anyhow, so living in Mersin is, of course, difficult when there is no one who speaks your language so visiting my gynaecologist is a great excuse to blab away in my mother language and know that at least one person understands me.  My gyno was down the other end nodding his head so I think he was listening, actually I don’t even care if he was listening, but told him all about my trip to London and The Turk’s operation and even my dolmus ride into the city.  I was just about to start on my next topic of conversation (whether or not to change Daughter’s school) when he shot his head up over my flabby stomach and said, “Do you ever shut up?”

Oh my!

That seemed a little harsh from the man who sounds like a half crazed vampire when he laughs but … whatever.  I lay meekly in silence trying to wish myself away pretty much anywhere else while he finished up and wait for the order to hop off the examination table.

Dead set.  I swear.  This is exactly what he sounds like!

We left it with these words, “You are more difficult to examine than a Turkish woman”.  Well thank you sir, I take THAT as a compliment!

Oh and for those wondering, the tests came back fine.  I need to go back more frequently for check ups (and I will) but right now I am feeling fine.

*Knock, knock* Hello?

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You might not have noticed but I haven’t posted for a while.  Why have I been so neglectful?  Why, oh why, have I left you, my dear followers and friends, hanging for the next episode of action packed drama that is living in Mersin?  Well to be honest I haven’t been particularly happy recently.

The Turk and I have been fighting – a lot – and not just a little scrap here and there, no, we have been having a few smack down whoopings that a stoned Hulk Hogan atop a wrecking ball could be proud of.

hulk hogan

Yes.  Seriously.  This is the current synopsis of our relationship.  I am not sure if I am Hulk Hogan or perhaps the wrecking ball and I never thought I would see the day that I had to quote Miley Cyrus but over the past weeks and months all The Turk has really achieved is to “wreck me”.

I am not really sure where it all began but since The Turk returned from Australia (after his heart attack) he has had difficulty settling back into the village way of life.  He has found fault in everything and everyone (including me) and has made me feel that our relationship is irretrievably broken.  To add insult to injury, and despite the fact that the first heart attack should have scared him straight, he has not changed his diet or his habits and in early June was admitted into hospital to have a triple by-pass.  Officially he now resembles Frankenstein’s Monster.

Adding to these current woes and health issues is me being diagnosed with “abnormal cervical cells” which has required treatment.  My doctor speaks pretty good English, although when he laughs he sounds a little like a hyena on crack, but I am relatively confident with the treatment that I have had and I go back next week for another check.  Fingers crossed that the treatment destroyed all the cells and nice, happy, non-cancerous cells have grown in their place.

There have been a few moments over these months that I have sat on the couch in tears and a few moments where I have wanted to pack my bags and flee back to Australia but I cannot because Daughter is so happy here (although I need to update you guys on her most recent boy drama when I get a chance).  Being that I am officially (yes it is officially) the Best Mum In The World I also took her to Londra in June for her birthday to a “5SOS” concert.  For those of you who have no clue what a “5SOS” is you should Google them because apparently Daughter is going to marry either the Lead Singer (who I suspect could be a world class tool) or the Bass Player (who reminds me of a dopey puppy).  The concert itself wasn’t too shabby, they reminded me of a very young INXS, although a little more polished than the INXS that played at Manly Vale Hotel back in the 1980’s.  I also got some shopping done in Londra so it was a pretty successful trip for both of us.

5sos

We also chuffed off to Rome for a week which was lovely (although the restoration work on the Trevi Fountain is STILL NOT finished!  How fecking long does it take?) and finally for a break in Istanbul.

As you can see there should be quite a bit to blog about but my sadness and health concerns have unfortunately overtaken my mental functions and writing proved very difficult over the past weeks.  I will be back to writing a little more often and hopefully I will return to a more comedic writing style which is how I would normally feel.  I am also going to re-jiggy the blog a little bit as I have had a lot of requests for more touristic information on Mersin (as there is limited information out there) and its surrounds so if I go off-line in the near future don’t distress it is merely my ridiculous attempts of navigating the web page tools (which will no doubt prove to be a little difficult for my pea-sized intellect).

And in case you are wondering yes The Turk is still smoking!

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Kedi Update No. 3

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Well, it’s official.  I have morphed into a Turkish Cat Lady (as opposed to Crazy Cat Lady).  I am thinking of getting myself some of those baggy village pants (which would be incredibly comfy I don’t doubt) and, if you are looking for me, I will be found walking around The Village being followed by stray cats (a la The Pied Piper) hoping that they will be brought into the inner sanctum.

The Turk and I still feed as many strays as we can but winter was harsh here in Mersin and we lost a few of our regulars (sadly that included Stanley) but now that spring has sprung we are overwhelmed with kittens and, honestly, I am not sure how we are going to continue to feed them all. DSC02147

Right now, in total, we have 19 kittens!  Yes that’s right.  A ridiculous number I know.  Most of them are terrified of us humans and won’t come near us but Mama being so domesticated all her kittens come running when we come downstairs each morning.

My Hurley Dog aka The Terminator is fascinated with the kittens but due to his desire to kill and maim we have to keep a close eye on his shenanigans because although I forgave him for killing the chicken I’m pretty sure I won’t forgive him for murdering a kitten.  The dog spends his day in the garden stalking the kittens and taking the occasional nip while the kittens spend their day hunting the dog and then running back to the undergrowth if he starts to chase them.  It works out well for all of them.

In the interim, the vet came the other night to check everyone out – well as many as he could catch anyway.  A few of the kittens appear to have fluey symptoms however they are still too young for medicine so we have to wait and hope that they pull through.  The vet has diarised coming to collect Mama for her to be de-sexed as well however the other cats all ran when they saw him so I think it might be up to The Turk to capture and deliver the last few mothers to him over the course of the next 5 weeks. Our hope is that we find homes for as many of the kittens as we can and, with the remaining mother’s de-sexed, we might be able to control the population (at least for now anyway).

DSC02176

And for those of you wondering My Stairwell Cat, Evil, has now fully infiltrated our home.  If she is stealthy enough she might get to stay the night but generally, she arrives each morning and waits patiently at our front door.  She will then spend her day sitting on the terrace in the sunshine or on the couch where, as you can see, she makes herself very comfortable indeed.  After an evening meal, Evil will disappear into the night with My Kedi Cat for their nightly entertainment.  Seriously I have to wonder what these two get up to because they come home covered in dirt, cobwebs, caked in mud and, on occasion, a gluey substance that I have had to cut out of My Kedi Cat’s luscious long hair.

My life *sigh*

And just because kittens are so cute one more photo:

DSC02162

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Mersin Deniz Park

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Two posts in one day!  Wowza!

But wait … oh no she is getting on her high horse again *rolls eyes*.

mersinpark

Mersin Deniz Park was opened to much fanfare two years ago at a cost of 35TL million.  The park was approved by the previous Büyükşehir Belediye CHP and has been enjoyed by tens of thousands of people (including myself and my family) since its opening.

The new Büyükşehir Belediye (MHP) has now decreed that the Park was built illegally, has violated many marine laws, was built on landfill and finally the money spent was not in the best interest of the public.  This week demolition work began to remove the illegal structures (no doubt at a huge cost to the public as well).

The Büyükşehir Belediye has also instructed the demolition of many of the small cafes and çay houses on the waterfront declaring them illegal structures (and don’t even get me started on the removal of the outdoor area of one of my favourite eateries Leman Kültür – also an illegal structure).

In a previous life I worked for Environmental Planning Lawyers back in Sydney.  I understand better than most here in Mersin why approvals are necessary and why laws are put in place.  What I cannot understand is why the Büyükşehir Belediye decrees illegal work for previously approved structures and the removal of such structures that generate much needed funds for the Büyükşehir Belediye (and of course the loss of jobs for many hundreds of people).

Well done you gooses.  Well done.

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Driving Miss Janey

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I recently started driving here in Mersin having purchased a brand spanking new, beyaz (of course) Nissan Juke.  I am finally an independent woman and can get out and about without having to catch 1, 2 or more dolmuş.  This has the added bonus of being less likely to be sneezed on, kidnapped or generally treated like a second class citizen while travelling on the public buses here.

Speed-Limits

Because I am a kind and thoughtful blogger I have put together a few helpful hints for those of you who intend on driving here in Türkiye:

  1. When driving on the road use your horn – all the time. It seems that we have been wrongly instructed to only use the horn sparingly.  Fallacy!  Use your horn to show how happy you are, or how sad you are, or even how horny you are (get it.  horn/horny).  Rarely the horn is used to in agitation.  Better to use your horn than your brakes (after all the horn will last longer).
  2. Pedestrian crossings are not actually for pedestrians. These black and white zebra style markings on the road is in fact a sign for us, the driver, to speed up.  If some fool does try and cross my best suggestion would be to aim right for him.  This has a two-fold effect.    You get where you are going faster; and 2.  You help him get a cardio workout.  In fact you are doing him a favour and he will no doubt smile and wave to you when he reaches the other side of the road.  This has happened to me often.  The Turk tells me it is not waving but that is neither here nor there.
  3. When at a red light you are at liberty to disregard such red light.  Instead you should think of your car as a chess piece and it is now your move.  Manoeuvre your chess piece to the front of the lights so when the lights turn green (or orange) you can shoot out like Mario Andretti.  If you do not play chess then be prepared to start using that horn (as mentioned above) and hit it as soon as the light change to show how happy you are.
  4. Left or right side of the road?   Either.  Whatever.
  5. Feel free to ignore those silly signs on the side of the road. You know the ones 50, 70 or even 120.  These signs are not actually the speed limits they are signs that indicate how many pedestrians have successfully made it to the other side of the road (true!).  The numbers never change because making it successfully across is a pipe dream.
  6. Another rule that was drilled into us while we were learner drivers and that should be totally disregarded here is using your mobile phone. In fact I stress to you that you must use your mobile while driving.  Multi-tasking is a skill that should be utilised by you.  I find that while driving you merely point your car in the direction that you want it to go and continue your chatting on your mobile or texting your cousin.  Allah will get you to your destination.  Or not.

Bonus hint – Seatbelts are an optional extra.  Merely a suggestion by the manufacturer.  And if you, like me, have a new car with that pesky alarm warning you of your impending death should you not wear your seat belt merely lock the seatbelt in place before you sit down (as suggested to me by my brother in law).

* Disclaimer:  Some days my humor is lost on The Turk and so, on his advice, I disclose that this post should not be construed as instructions on the driving laws here in Türkiye or in any other country.  You should always adhere to road rules in the country that you are visiting or live in and here in Türkiye “road rules” means “no rules” LOL!

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Gallipoli 2015

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On 25 April 2015 Australians and New Zealanders around the world mark the 100th anniversary of the ANZAC landings on Gelibolu peninsula.  For Daughter and I it will have a very special meaning – my Grandfather and her Great Grandfather fought at Gelibolu as part of the 7th Light Horse Regiment, 1st Division (although the terrain at Gelibolu was deemed unsuitable for mounted troops after the initial loss of lives his regiment was sent into battle as reinforcements in May 1915).  More so Daughter’s Great, Great Grandfather on her father’s side fought and died at Gallipoli when the first wave of troops landed at ANZAC Cove.

7th Light Horse Regiment, 1st Reinforcement

I did not get the opportunity to meet my Grandfather Leslie Vivian Morgan.  He passed away long before I arrived on the scene.  I do not have any photographs of him and I do not have anything personal to hold but I do have my mother’s memories in my heart.  Memories of a man who fought bravely at Gallipoli for his country.  She spoke of his bravery and his sacrifice and gave thanks to him and to his “brothers in arms” so that we could grow up in a country of peace and prosperity.

Now 100 years on I thought it would be a fitting memorial to my Grandfather and, of course, to my mother to attend at the commemoration on ANZAC Day.  Sadly in January I found out that I was 18 months too late to apply for tickets.  It also seemed that as we do not live in Australia we are ineligible to apply anyway.  “But hold on!  I live in Turkiye!  And my Grandfather fought at Gallipoli!  Surely that has some merit?”  Hayir!

As much as I could kick myself for not investigating how to obtain tickets earlier I am also so proud of how many Australians want to be there to recognise the service and the sacrifice made by so many men all those years ago.

Poppies-Original-Landing-Point-Gallipoli

As I do each year on 25 April I will be up at dawn.  There is no dawn service here in Mersin so I will walk down to the beach, close my moist eyes and, in my mind, I will hear that lone trumpeter play The Last Post.  I will think of my Grandfather and all those boys, those men, both the Mehmets and the Johnnies, who lost their lives fighting for you and me.

Lest We Forget.

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How to Barbeque like a Turk

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I know how to barbeque.  I am a good Aussie girl and was taught the art of barbeque by the Zen Master of Barbeques – my Dad.  His barbeque boot camps were the stuff legends were made of and anything he put on his barbeque would be cooked to perfection every single time without a drop of beer ever being spilt.  Yep I was taught by the Master and have crazy barbequing skills but here, in Turkiye, all my rad skills taught to me by my Dad are thrown out the window.  The reason?  In Turkiye a barbeque just isn’t a barbeque – its Mangal!

Mangal means to barbeque but it also is the name of the itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny apparatus that the Turks use to cook their barbeque on and let me tell you a mangal is, in fact, an event.  To mangal takes time.  Preparation of the food and preparation of the barbeque itself – it is a commitment but the end results are always a party for your tastebuds.

Adana mangal

Like households all over the world a caveman-like primeval instinct will take over a Turkish male and it is for him to prepare fire while the females slice and dice in the kitchen preparing the meats and salads.

Watching Turkish men prepare the mangal is an experience in itself.  First they disappear into the nearest forest hunting firewood returning with, in their expert opinion, what is the best firewood ever collected.  If there is more than one Turkish man then they will need to be fierce debate over the quality of their firewood because, of course, it’s all about the size of the wood isn’t it ladies?  Once half a forest has been accumulated by our men it is time to stack the mangal.

Stacking an art form and has been known to cause WWIII on more than one occasion (in our family at least).  Like that age old question of “what came first the chicken or the egg” with mangal it is all about how you prepare the fire to get the ultimate heat.  The correct mix of charcoal briquettes and firewood set in the correct manner should ensure the perfect mangal which should, in theory, ignite with ease and, after its initial blazing inferno, should burn down to a grey ash – the perfect heat for cooking.

BBQ 1

While all this is going on I can usually be found in the kitchen helping (or hindering) my sister in law who is frantically prepare enough food for an army.  Tavuk (chicken) is usually coated with salcha (biber paste), kimyon (cumin) and kırmızı biber (paprika) while the balik (fish) will be marinated in a little zeytin yağı (olive oil) and limon (lemon).  My favourite, and usually my job when and if I ever put down my glass of wine, is to prepare the mincemeat kebabs.  These are so simple that my sister in law knows I won’t stuff them up.  Ready?  It’s as easy as mixing the kıyma (mincemeat), karabiber (black pepper), toz biber (red chilli powder), kimyon (cumin), onion (soğan) and kırmızı biber (red capsicum/pepper).  I use as much or as little as I like as there is no exact recipe so basically I can’t fail.

BBQ 3

Returning with the meats to the mangal which should by now be the hot coals and ash (remember grey ash is the best ash) the men come into play again where they stand over the food and discuss everything from politika to futbol.  One of us ladies have to appear and warn them that the meat is going to be overdone to which we will receive a hearty tamam or tessekuler and a request for another bira.  I usually laugh about now because it doesn’t matter where you are beer is always a pre-requisite for a barbeque.  A final argument about too much tuz (salt) or perhaps how many times the meat has been turned ensues before finally a mountain of meat is hauled off the mangal and to your table which is now full with numerous salads and ekmek (bread).

BBQ 2 (2)

Don’t forget you also need plates of meze to finish off your barbeque.  A quick and easy one and a favourite of mine is Biber Ezmesi.  Cook your biber (no not Justin but probably justifiable) on the mangal as soon as the initial inferno has died down.  Once cool quickly peel them and cut them finely as well as a couple of domates (tomatoes).  You can cheat and use a blender on low but my sister in law swears that cutting by hand makes all the difference.  Mix them with zeytin yağı, nar şurubu (pomegranate juice), two cloves of sarımsak (garlic) and maydanoz (flat leaf parsley) and you have a wonderful meze or relish to add to your table.

biber-ezmasi

If you are travelling to Turkiye this summer make sure you find a restaurant that serves mangal or, even better, buy your own mangal (they are incredibly cheap) and go to your closest piknik spot and prepare your own.  Most butchers sell the mincemeat already prepared with spices for kebabs and even the chicken coated in salcha.  Grab some lamb ribs and marinate them in olive oil and lemon – amazing – or maybe head to the fish market and haggle with the fish mongers for the best fish the Adriatic has to offer.

BBQ 5

If you are unsure what to buy ask your closest Turk and he will give you his expert mangal advice.

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CSI Cyber – Turkish Edition

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I have now watched a couple of episodes of this new CSI show and I think I am more than qualified to investigate “the Great Turkish Blackout of 2015”.

After lengthy investigation I have 3 main suspects:

  1. A terrorist plot. Who could it be?  Bilmiyorum.
  2. A pimply faced 12 year old boy trying to obtain the schematics of NASA’s space station for his bedroom wall … oh wait wrong program.
  3. Türkiye forgot to pay the electric bill – most likely.

collage 1

Here’s what I know.

I went into the city yesterday to meet some friends for lunch.  There was no electricity in the village.  I shrug my shoulders (there is never any electricity in the village).  As I reached Çarşı there is no electricity there either.  Oh well.  I catch my next dolmuş and continue through Mersin.  Pozcu – no electricity.   At this point I am like “Woah all of Mersin!  Sucked in!”.  As I reached Mezitli and my destination and there was still no electricity I realised “damn lunch is going to be cancelled” but no – bless Mersin Marina for their own electricity supply!

Lunch was lovely.  I drank too much and got too much sun.  I suffer for that now.

One friend from Adana told me her electricity was out too.  “How funny is that?  Two cities, no electricity”.

I finally got home completely sloshed and feeling no pain but there was still no bloody electricity.  The Turk informed me that the electricity was, in fact, out all over Turkey including Istanbul and Ankara and that it was a terrorist plot or a military coup.  My first thought was “Yikes”.  My second thought “that movie War Games”.  Do you know the one?  Matthew Broderick starred in it, like, 50 years ago or something, and he nearly started WWIII with the click of a mouse button.  Someone should check the whereabouts of Matthew Broderick.

Officially Prime Minister Ahmet Davutoglu said all possible causes were under investigation “including terrorism”.  Conveniently enough President Erdogan was out of the country as was the Electricity Minister.

It has suggested to me that it was an April Fools joke.  That’s seems to be a pretty elaborate joke, well done to you, however check your calendar before you pull a prank you goose!

We finally got our electric back but not before The Turk suggested we make our own – bada bing bada boom.  Daughter said that the electrical outage was “a current event”.  You see we are all fecking comedians in this household!

My CSI investigation is still underway so keep checking back for when I finally arrest my suspect.  It will be exciting.  Seriously though, if Turkiye did forget to pay the electric bill someone should diarise this shit because it was bloody inconvenient yesterday.

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Oops I did it again

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It has been brought to my attention by you lovely people that I have not burdened you with my most recent exploits here in Mersin.  Honestly life has been busy and between the illegal building work, the constant rain, Daughter morphing into an obstinate teenager and The Turk driving me nuts I haven’t had a moment to sit down and write plus I am trying to concentrate on my novel – yes I am a frustrated (unpublished) author – perhaps the next J.K. Rowling – perhaps not.

In order to give you a quick Janey fix I will tell you about how I ended up (yet again) covered in shit after a night out in the Village.  This time it was cow shit not human shit but shit is shit and I am starting to question how these things happen to me – over and over again.

Last weekend the expats here in Mersin decided a get together was in order and a fish restaurant was chosen here in the Village as the venue.  I was ecstatic.  Not only did this mean that I was a hop, skip and jump from home it meant that I didn’t need to catch a dolmuş or two dolmuş or even three dolmuş (would that translate to dolmuşlar?) to get where I needed to go.  I merely had to walk less than 1 kilometre to the beachfront.  1 kilometre.  That’s all I had to do.  1 kilometre to the lokanta and 1 kilometre to get home.  I mean how hard could it be?

I guess it starts, as all good stories do, with alcohol.  Yes an expat night out means I go all out, so excited to be speaking English to a whole table of English speakers that I let my hair down and am out for a big night.  I was sensible though (in my own way) after all there was Raki (ick) as well as vodka jelly shots (and a vodka desert) but I stuck with my bottle of şarap (wine) that I brought with me.  Sadly though the first bottle was drained as was another … and another … and so by the end of the evening I was feeling very jolly indeed.

Walking home was very pleasant and one of the reasons why I love living here is walking through the village at night.  It is starting to warm up now, the stars were shining brightly and the smells through the village are just so delicious whether it be walking through a farm of freshly cut maydanoz or nane or passing a home where a family are listening to Turkish music as they enjoy the last of their mangal (bar-be-que).  The Turk decided to cut through one of the bahçeler (gardens) to speed up my drunken dawdling (and yes singing) and so we turned into a garden where they had recently tilled the soil for the next crop.

I have cut through this garden many times with My Hurley Dog and I am well aware of the cow shit that is piled high on the side of the grassy track.  In fact I have spent many an hour standing by the pile of cow shit as My Hurley Dog throws himself head first into it every. single. time.  What I did not know or perhaps had plum forgotten that the owners have dug a rather large hole in the grass immediately beside the poop.  On reflection I was bloody lucky I didn’t break my leg to be honest.  Anyway I turned to Daughter (who was feeling very jolly herself as she had enjoyed a sneaky vodka jelly) to watch out for the poop when all of a sudden the entire ground disappeared from under me.  It was as though I was being sucked into the vortex of a demon netherworld (which would make sense) but my fall was a slow one, slow enough for me to call out, “I think I’m falling” and for The Turk and Daughter to watch the collapse with glee.

As I fell I watched the pile of poop moving slowly towards me.  All I could say is, “Oh shit!”.  Yep it happened again although thankfully I am happy it was a dry poopy-poop not the human waste that chased me out of the long drop last time. Someone asked on FB whether Daughter captured this embarrassment on film and I am again happy to say no she did not for she is well aware of the unfortunate events that would occur if she ever crossed me publicly!  She and The Turk merely stood there laughing as I tried to roll out of the poop and the mud and pull myself back up.

hole 3

It took me 24 hours to recover from my night now and today I can examine my bruises that are forming a little more closely.  I am taking My Hurley Dog for a walk to the beach this morning however, honestly, I will not cut through the bahçe as a shortcut home.

Next time on Janey … in Mersin – my appointment with the Governor for my kimlik.  Stayed tuned.

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Enough is enough

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I feel like I have fallen down the rabbit hole here.  Writing this post took time but it also took a hell of a lot of research on my part and at each breath I found another shocking revelation regarding women’s rights here in Turkey.  I had no idea of the shocking statistics – 300 women were killed by men here in Turkey in 2014, an additional 100 more were raped.  Enough is enough.

skirts

My recent post drew such an amazing response from you but more importantly it has helped get the message out, not just here in Turkey, but all over the world.

With the hashtag #sendeanlat (tell me your story) trending on social media,  with over 800,000 hits, the message is simple – Turkish women have had enough. Enough of the innuendo by the young men who trail you home.  Enough of the man rubbing himself against you on the train (which happened to me recently in Istanbul).  Enough of the suggestion that you may have asked for it by your choice of dress.  Enough of an employer using his power to gain your favour and enough of your husband, your father, or even a complete stranger raising their hand for the slightest infraction.  Add to this the hashtag #ozgecanicinminietekgiy (wear a miniskirt for Özgecan) and you can see that Turkish people really do want their country to change.

With the heightened media attention spurring Turkish politicians into action with promises of harsher punishment against perpetrators here in Mersin billboards have begun to appear with Özgecan’s image asking the question ““Have you heard the screams of Özgecan?” This refers to the recent suggestion by Government officials that women should scream loudly if assaulted.  I just want to point out that Özgecan did shout, the authorities confirmed this.  She screamed.  She scratched.  She used pepper spray against her attacker but no one could help her.  The fact is that women should not need to scream.  Women should be safe to walk down the street, or catch a bus.  Rather than teaching women to scream or to protect themselves perhaps it would be better for men to be taught to respect women.

I have to ask myself if teaching respect is enough though as there has also been instances of shaming women in recent days.  The most public example was the host of Survivor All Stars Nihat Dogan who, rather than showing sympathy towards what happened to Özgecan he chose to make inappropriate remarks about her attire at the time of her death.  This eşek was put in his place pretty swiftly though and was fired from his hosting gig.  Good work Channel 8.

Change begins with the current Government.  With a little adjustment to their current attitude (do you remember when I wrote this President Erdogan’s recent perception on women’s equality back in November – yikes!) and with an acknowledgement of equality between women and men then lives will really change here for the better.  The next step is education which is crucial in the prevention of violence against women and that education needs to start in the schools.  Specialised training should be given to teachers to help them identify children at risk and also to teach awareness and behaviour towards not just women but to each other as a whole.  Teach children that raising your hand is not the answer and within one generation – only one generation – this antiquated behaviour will be wiped out.

Did you know that in January of this year 27 women were murdered by men here in Turkey.  Stop making excuses Turkey. There was no excuse for what happened to Özgecan.  There is nothing that can give back that young woman her life, to return her to her family and her friends.  Enough is enough.

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