On My Way

On My Way
To Turkey, To Turkey, to buy a fat pig

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

A Bowl of Cherries

Well, life here continues on pretty much the same. After all this talk about life being wonderful and all, I decided to watch It’s a Wonderful Life on my computer one night just to unwind, and yes, I bawled as hard as ever at the end. So good. So good. Since nothing very different has happened, I decided I wanted to jot down some things that are different here in Turkey than from in the states, just so I don’t forget these unique little things someday, because they make me happy.

The first thing that was funny to me at first was the swimsuits here. Not the swimsuits themselves, more how the Turkish people use them. So, they go to the beach wearing a swimsuit. They sit in the sun for a while, then get hot and so get in the water for a few minutes, then get back out. But instead of going and drying off while lying in the sun, they go and change their swimsuit and then sit in the sun some more. And when they get hot, they’ll dip in the water and then get out and change their swimsuit again. This goes on all day. Zeynep will often go through 6 or more swimsuits in the course of our 3 or 4 hours at the beach. They change their swimsuits after getting them wet. The classic story in our family has come to my mind many times here that we always laugh so hard about…when Julie was 2 or so she was playing in a little kiddie pool in the backyard and mom went inside to get something really quick. When she came back out, there was Julie standing in the kiddie pool, stark naked. Mom asked, “Julie, why did you take your swimsuit off?” To which Julie replied, “It got wet.” I feel like if I were to ask the Turks why they change swimsuits so often, they’d give the same answer. Just kidding. But seriously. Just a funny little thing they all do that I have not figured out the reason for yet.

Laundry. No drying machines. Everything is hang-dryed…which is probably better for your clothes. But the best part is, after drying, they iron EVERYTHING. From the underwear to the dish rags. No joke. Cracks me up…hard. I don’t iron my need-ironing blouses and skirts, much less my underwear and dish rags. Haha. Oh, I love it.

No microwaves. Anything that needs heating is put on a pan on the stove (or out in the sun as Mary Jane did for the butter she wanted to soften). There are virtually no frozen, prepared foodstuffs and almost no canned goods. Everything is fresh and cooked by hand. The fridge is always packed with ripe, fresh fruits and veggies…large, luscious peaches and nectarines, deep pink, crispy watermelon, and bowls full of freshly rinsed, sweet-beyond-all-belief cherries. I would love to say I’m going to be like that, with no frozen or canned foods when I get back and when I’m a mom someday, but I know I probably won’t. But it’s really cool to live like that for 6 weeks.

Meal “times”. There aren’t really specific mealtimes here, but ther general vicinities of meals are very different than in the U.S. Breakfast is when people wake up…usually around 10 or 11. Lunch is usually between 1 and 3, and dinner is in the 7:30-9:00 arena. No better or worse, just different.

Finally, “vacation” here is different than what I’m used to. But that may just be because my family is AWESOME at vacationing. You see, the wealthy families that fill these seaside summer towns don’t really DO much in the first place. Sure, they have jobs, but beyond that they have hired help for EVERYTHING. People to watch their kids, to clean their house, to cook their food, to pack their luggage (no joke…I woke up the morning before we left for Cheshme to find people in the house packing our luggage while the family entertained guests), people to fix things, to buy things, to drive their cars, really people for everything you can think of. So it’s not like they work super hard in the first place…the things they do for work at home they still do here on their laptops and over the phone, etc. Most of the men fly back and forth between Istanbul or wherever they work and here during the vacation season. Chem has already flown to Italy and Istanbul and come back in between trips. But this is their vacation. And what do they decide to do? Nothing. They go to beaches and eat food all day every day. At night, they go to house parties and fancy restaurants. It’s all just so very interesting to me…very different than the kind of vacationing I’m used to. I’m used to vacations that expand my mind and teach me new things. Exploring new places, seeing new things, meeting new people, all with my family—that’s vacation for me. Learning more about the incredible world I live in while being with the people I love the most. Now don’t get me wrong, our family can definitely appreciate a relaxed day on the beach. But what I’ve learned is that that relaxed day on the beach is so wonderful mostly because we’re there together. Here I am, in this incredible resort town, going to marvelous Mediterranean beaches, being catered to hand and foot, every day. But it doesn’t feel like vacation because I’m not with the people I care about most. Without them, it just feels empty. I’m not complaining though, it is wonderful to be here and to be getting paid to go to these magnificent beaches and be catered to hand and foot. And I do love this family. What I’m getting at is that “vacation” means two very different things to the Ustunberks and to me…they bring hired help to watch their kids so that they don’t have to deal with them and so they literally can do nothing. But that’s kind of the opposite of vacation for me. It’s all just very interesting.

I’ve actually been thinking a lot about the family scene for these wealthy families here in Turkey, all of whom have nannies and au pairs to raise their children. I can see that the Ustunberks love their children a lot…they really, really do. But I wonder if it isn’t a kind of love different from a mother’s who sacrifices and works hard for her children every day. A mother who reads her child bedtime stories at night, or who giggles with the ticklish child while rubbing sunscreen on them. A mom who doesn’t go shopping with her friends every day, or who gives up going to parties or get-togethers in order to get the laundry done and the meals cooked. I was talking with Sidika right when I got here and we were talking about some of the hired help she has. She said something like, “It’s very different here than in America…in America I think the mom does everything, right? The laundry and cooking and everything. It’s too much. I’m so glad I don’t do all of that,” as she laughed. She thinks American mothers are crazy…but I think they are noble. I am so grateful for my own beautiful mother and her exquisite life of sacrifice and making me and my siblings her first priority. I could go on about this for a while, but this is already too long.

I just want to end with saying that I feel such profound gratitude for God’s plan for families and for the special place that mothers have in that plan. For their nurturing, and patience, and long-suffering, and teaching. I commend and respect those women who choose to make their children their career…it truly is the most selfless, yet influential role anyone can play. I love you, mom. Thanks for being my mom.

3 comments:

  1. Heather,
    I love hearing about your experiences. Some of the concepts you wrote about today have been exactly consistent with my thoughts here in Montana. Love you!
    Annie

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  2. It is a privilege, my beautiful girl. I love you too.

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  3. Heather, thanks for your thoughts on motherhood, what David O. McKay called the "greatest of all professions, the most beautiful of all arts." Here's to the women that sacrifice to make small, memorable, sacramental moments of mortality possible and meaningful. Here's to my wife, who does this every day.

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