The Tortoise and the Hare

Americans move fast. Really fast. We schedule our days down to the minute and tend to feel unproductive if we don’t spend every moment of our day doing something. I don’t know if it’s because it’s summer, or if it’s because Turkey is just more laid back, but life here is slow. The ticking of the clock here is more like a heartbeat than like the American metronome—it’s soft, slow, gentle, yet steady. In the U.S. we eat on a schedule and get upset at restaurants when it takes over half an hour for our food to come. We watch our specific TV shows at specific times and exercise for exactly one hour and continually pull out our cell phones to see what time it is. Here, I have no phone, I have no watch, there are no clocks in our house, and I couldn’t tell you what time it was at any given point in the day. I have never lived like this and it is new and refreshing. Chicago must have been in Turkey when they wrote the lyrics, “Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?” No, I don’t.

The past couple of days have passed in a hazy dream of passing the time by passing the time. We haven’t made it to the beach for a few days for various reasons, which I’m okay with…it gets exhausting being out in the sun all day every day. We’ve danced in the front room and chatted on the patio. Sidika has shown me how to make various Turkish foods, she stirring pots of sauces in the kitchen while singing along to blasting 70’s Turkish music (AWESOME) and me emptying the dishwasher or coloring with Zeynep at the counter. Cem has come back from Istanbul for the weekend and jovially struts about the place humming Turkish songs and teasing Zeynep. Mary Jane tells me about the Philippines as we prepare lunch or play with Zeynep or make the beds.

It’s just been slow and steady, and that’s just fine with me.

P.S. Thanks to those who sent beautiful things in their lives…I would still love to hear more if anyone cares to share!