Bu Benim Annem

On the 28^th of March, my mother graced me with her presence in this great Nation. It was much needed, much appreciated and greatly enjoyed by both parties. A hug from your mother is one of the things in life that you do not appreciate until it is gone. And also, being able to speak in Nottingham English at an incredibly fast pace whilst being understood is one of the things in life you do not appreciate until it’s taken away.  U get me bra. Brap.

Istanbul

It began in Africa Istanbul. No matter how many times I visit Istanbul it still takes my breath away. It is my favourite city in the world. The sprawling mess of the skyline makes me smile, and reminds me of the relaxed Turkish approach to everything, including city planning. The fact that it stretches over two continents, with thousands of years of history is evident in every street you walk down.  The fact that a woman wearing a Burka can walk alongside a woman wearing a leather mini skirt, arm in arm reminds me of Turkeys amazing diversity.  If you haven’t been – go.

I was excited to show my Mum the country that I have been calling home for 8 months.  And Istanbul was a great place to start. As I was waiting for my luggage from my domestic flight (which was the 14^th flight I had taken this year – pretty good for someone scared of flying and apparently someone who cares about the environment. Sorry trees) I could see my Mum through the automatic doors which kept opening and closing in a teasing manner. The women next to me was laughing at both our manic waving and kiss blowing whenever the doors allowed us to see each other.  Finally, my suitcase arrived and I was free to go and give her the biggest hug ever!

Now, because I work at the Turkish Parliament we were allowed to stay at the Parliamentary residencies in Istanbul. This was amazing. It was located slap bang in the middle of Besiktas (the previously Royal neighbourhood – that is 5 minutes walk from Taksim Square) I felt pretty good flashing my Parliamentary ID whilst walking in to the place. The only problem was the lack of English Spoken, and of course the real problem here is my embarrassingly shocking lack of Turkish, but we’ll ignore that. This created some interesting experiences. Our room was very hot (I don’t think I could keep count the amount of times Mother Bear told me she was “so hot”… Think she was hot though?) and so I forced Mum to get them to sort it out. She used google translate as a medium of translation… and at one point the man in reception typed in “Can I invite a friend to the situation?” Which obviously, is hilarious. And so a friend was invited to the situation, and he came and fiddled with our pipes (oioi) At one point I heard him say (in Turkish) “The English and all their fucking problems.” No way to speak to a member of the TBMM but, I will let it slide as I show compassion for the mere commoners I represent…  

However, I now have Turkish Parliament slippers, shampoo, soap, cottonbuds and a selection of teas. Thanks Attaturk.

It was also fun helping Dr. Stan adapt to Istanbul traffic and Turkish street crossing skills. This has come as second nature to me now, and sometimes I surprise myself with my courage. She spent a lot of the time clung to my arm as we weaved through the crowds. It is odd how you adapt to little things and take things for granted, like the sound of the call to Prayer. When I first moved to this country the call the prayer would always stop me in my tracks, and remind me that I wasn’t at home. Now I sometimes don’t even notice it.  It was so nice to be able to be reminded of these little things that I now take for granted. For example, the Smit stands that are dotted on every street, and the freshly squeezed orange juice sold at all the Kiosks (of BOOOFS.. Bufe.. as Mum kept calling them.) and the Midye (Cold Mussels, stuffed with rice and herbs and sold on every street, especially at night time.)

We visited the Bastille Cistern,  Topaki Palace, The Aya Sofia, The Blue Mosque and all the other standard tourist stuff. If you don’t know what they are educate yourself and then come back to me.  It was nice to visit Sultanahmet without having your 31 one year old boyfriend telling you what he would do if he was playing Assassins Creed.  We visited the Grand Bazar, which was accompanied by a lot of “Are you sisters” “Are you angels?” “Lady, I am here” and also involved me haggling a bag down from 375 Lira to 120 (in Turkish. Tabii ki) and then not buying it. Apparently this proves that I am fully culturally integrated.  The weather was beautiful during our visit, which meant we were lucky enough to enjoy the sun in some of Istanbul’s parks. We found the sweetest çay bahçesi (tea garden) snuggled in the corner of a park next to Sultanahment. We ordered a pot and sat and watched the ferries crossing from continent to continent. It would have been perfect if it wasn’t for some dickhead group of Australian women talking about how having kids “was on their to do list” and other pretentious and ridiculous comments. “You know.. I just couldn’t cope if my baby wasn’t perfect.” Have a word with yourself woman. I hate you.

We also visited the New Mosque, and of course had Balik-Ekmek (fish sandwiches) from Eminou. We climbed the Galata tower and saw about 11 mosques all performing Adhan simultaneously wish was a pretty incredible experience.  This was followed by seeing an Italian that looked exactly like my Dad, and then seeing a Bride just mincing the streets in bright red sunglasses. Equally as incredible I am sure you will agree.  On the next day, we minced to Ortakoy to enjoy Kumpir near the Bosphorus bridge. Kumpir is Turkish jacket potato, stuffed with all sorts from tapenade, to sweetcorn to ketchup. It is wicked. The only thing is they do not eat the skin and always take it from me when I try and eat the skin. Ortakoy is a neighbourhood near Besiktas which is frequented by locals, it is famous due to the fact you have the contrast of the Ortakoy Mosque in front of the modern bridge. However, the Mosque was under renovation of course. We then took the ferry over to Asia, and walked the streets of Kadikoy. Now, as Ankara is significantly less Westernised than Istanbul is – the only thing I was craving was to eat anything BUT Turkish food. Mother had other ideas but humoured me with a plate of chips and an Efes.

Istanbul treated us incredibly well, and we drank enough cay to last us for the whole trip. However, it had only just begun………

DRAMATIC PAUSE.

We took a flight back to Ankara which involved a Taxi driver that looked like Tarkan and me realizing that I am still scared of flying. Mother Bear came to my flat, which, although she did a good job hiding it, she was not impressed with. It was nice to show her where I live though, and to make her more part of my reality here. We went to my local Pide joint for dinner, where I take all my honoured guests when I’m feeling lazy. I explained to my friends (the waiters) that my mother was visiting me in Turkey, and they were very happy to hear it. MB tried Iskander for the first time or…. Turkish…. Yoghurt…. Kebab and loved it. She amused the waiters when she screamed “DROGBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAA” at the top of her lungs whilst doing a funny little dance when Didier came on the screen. Funny because she isn’t particularly a fan of Galatasary or of Drogba. She spent the night in my amazingly comfy and luxurious bed (feels like sleeping on a sack of potatoes) and then we were off again!

Kappodokya

The following morning, we were off on our second leg of the grand tour. After a very early start, we arrived at ASTI. (Ankara’s main bus terminal – the size of which exemplifies how many people want to get away from Ankara at all times) Just to remind you, hardly anybody speaks English in Ankara, let alone ASTI and so it is always fun. With blearly eyes I tried to find out where the hell we could get tickets from. After a lot of too’ing and fro’ing and being stared at by men with moustaches for being the token white girl, I figured out which platform to go too. Sorry sorry, WE figured out which platform to go too. (a joke specifically for Postman Tim/Papa Stannard)

Aboard the bus MB was very impressed with the Turkish way of coach travel. Again, this is something I had grown accustomed too. Every coach has a boy/man/once I saw a woman that comes round and serves tea, and cake, and water and juice and sandwiches and hand wipes and perfumes etc during the journey. MB was very impressed with his “magic box” which he kept producing bottles of drink from. I told her I thought the magic box would be better used as a toilet, but she was sold by the mere idea of the magic box.

After 5 hours on the coach we finally made it to Nevisehir, the city of Cappadoccia. Things were already starting to get a little dusty and look a little bit like Starwars so I knew we were in the right place. After boarding a very full Dolmus we were on our way to Goreme – the main hub of Cappodocia. As we drove through the amazing landscape it was so lovely to see the excitement spread of Dr.Lu’s face – “it’s amazing” she kept saying but I was too busy thinking about how much my shoulder hurt. It really hurt. We were dropping off in Goreme, and quickly collected by the Hotels porter – Emre. Emre was very impressed that I lived in Turkey, although he kept reminding me how bad my Turkish was. Our hotel was really lovely, with a chic Ottoman design and rooms that were built to resemble the caves that Cappodocia was famous for. They also had really cute bars of soap which we stole loads of.

TOP CAPPADOCCIA MOMENTS

1)      The time we went to the Open Air Museum in Goreme, I smacked my head on a huge rock and an old Italian man laughed for about 7 hours at my expense.

2)      Meeting an old man when we got lost in Pigeon Valley, who led us back to the right track and then wouldn’t let us go until we gave him “jigerettes” that we did not have.

3)      HASAN! The best thing to ever happen. Hiking through one of the valleys we bumped into Hassan, and his tea garden. Surprisingly, Hasan spoke perfect English. He told us he lives in the valley in the summer to get away from his 4 wives who are constantly arguing. He was very impressed I lived in Turkey. He also made us play a turkey related quiz – in which we received Turtles made of stones for our prizes, key rings and postcards. I won a bonus prize for guessing his age was 25.

4)      Walking in Love Valley, where the rocks looked like huge erections. Meeting a village woman who made us some lovely tea, and then bumping into a lonesome French woman who said  “it was vairrr erroteeeek ‘round here non?”

5)      Being told we walk like South Africans? What does that even mean?

6)      Having the best meal and the best home made wine imaginable.

7)      Mum being referred to as “Crazy Anne” by the Hotel staff as  she was drunk and insisted on placing loads of bets on the football

8)      Being invited to watch the Galatasary match with the waiters of the restaurant we ate in.

9)      Watching the horse who was doing gross tourist rides, be followed by her tiny foal, and then the foal being followed by a stray dog. Literally the best thing I’ve ever seen.

Cappadocia treated us very well, and created some memories that will never be forgotten.

Back to Ankara.

We were to spend the last few days in Ankara, being hosted by my lovely Turkish Family. This was a bit of a strange but amazing experience for me, having my surrogate family meet my real one. We exchanged presents from England, had lots of imported Merlot and had lovely chats. We visited the Parliament (my office) the Hamam (of which I am not a regular, and have my own personal massuse who I think has the hots for me) and the very limited sites and sounds of Ankara.

Having my mother coming to visit me was a lovely experience. It was so nice for her to see what my reality has been for 8 months, meet my closest friends and experience a limited snippet of Turkish life. It was awful to say goodbye, and the departure was very tearful (and even more upsetting for me as I had sat on a water bottle and my arse was really wet)