Feed me, Ugur
April 13, 2011 § Leave a comment
You’ve heard of Turkish hospitality. It’s the stuff of legends, and it’s the stuff of my new caffeine addiction. If you haven’t heard of the legendary hospitality, it boils (ha! tea joke) down to this: you’re foreign or someone I simply don’t know, let me feed you and refill your tea glass, you know you want more tea, what do you mean you don’t want more tea, of course you do, this is Turkey, don’t you know we drink tea here hahaha. It manifests itself in other ways: free rides around town, free samples at the market, guided tours, directions which may or may not be accurate, people touching your leg when they really shouldn’t.
I love this system. I used to read Bible stories about unexpected traveler knocking on<insert patriarch>’s tent flap, and Patriarch giving him the last jug of fresh water and lentil stew and his daughters, and wondering where such a system might still exist. Pleased to meet you, Turkey.
About two Sundays ago, I was fumbling with my keys and a handful of shopping bags outside the entrance to our university lojman. A man in about his 40’s, maybe, opens the door to let me in. I graciously thank him in Turkish, and the second I do so, he says, “Are you the American? I’ve heard about you! How long have you been here?” I could tell by the way he asked that he knew exactly how long I’d been there and had really, really been wanting to introduce himself but never had the opportunity and thought it might be a bit strange for a middle-aged man to knock on our door unsolicited (not that that’s ever stopped most Turkish men, but I digress). It turns out Ugur speaks perfect English, having spent 5 years at the University of Reading, England doing his PhD in plant genetics. He also did a solo driving tour of America’s East Coast from Boston to the Florida Keys. Ugur, where have you been all my life? Really just upstairs? It was such a lovely lobby conversation, and we made vague promises to meet soon for tea at the university. He leaves the building and I fumble my way into my flat, where Alex and I begin cooking lunch. A knock comes on our door 20 minutes later: it’s Ugur. His mother is in town and though we might like some homemade spinach and cheese borek and stuffed cabbage leaves. MIGHT? Ugur, you really need to get to know us better. Although the reheated crust was a bit limp, the spinach filling was different than those we’d eaten before. And the stuffed cabbage leaves? Step aside, stuffed grape leaves, your fatter and tastier cousin packs a better and less oily mouthful. We promised Ugur to return the plates and serving tray later, but filled, in the traditional Turkish fashion.
Two hours later, I got a text that a lentil soup-making date with a new friend from Couchsurfing was canceled, leaving me, Alex, and another friend Derya at loose ends, with neither food nor plans for the evening. Alex has a nasty habit of making delicious Snickerdoodle cookies, and what could be more American? We invited Derya over roll some buttery dough in sugar and cinnamon and gorge ourselves.
I’d like to propose that Fulbright change its mission to ‘intercultural exchange through food’, because my god do I have the best evenings when food is involved. We mixed, we rolled, we baked, we danced, we drank local red wine, Derya finally taught me how to make Turkish coffee.
And then we carried two plates of American teeth-decarying goodness upstairs to repay Ugur’s kindness. Alex put a batch of cookies in before we left the flat, thinking we’d deliver and return. I knew better. Ugur answered the door in his pajamas then did a presto-chango and emerged in daytime clothes. His mother busied herself heating up MORE spinach borek (secret filling ingredient: yogurt). Alex and I partook, while Derya, the Turk herself, refused. Ugur’s mother spent the rest of the night badgering Derya to eat some borek, it’s only 9:30, you must be hungry, what’s wrong? She successfully resisted.
Everything sounds wonderful, right? We laughed, we chatted about traveling, Tekirdag, America, universities, current events, green tea. Someone should have taken a photo of us and slapped it in the Fulbright brochure, it was so delightful.
But wait, this is my life, and nothing ends without a big wah-wahhhhh. Ugur had a brain tumor last year, and though an operation removed most of it, there are still some tumor cells lurking around. They feed on sugar. He took a polite bite but the cookies were a big no-go. Silver lining? His mother gladly swooped in to clean up.
In case you were worried, Alex did leave 10 minutes into our hour-long visit to take the cookies out of the oven. Afiyet olsun!