The Village of Ortahisar, continued

previous: Independence Day
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"Ana!" what the man on the right with big smile says to me each morning when I come up the hill to buy a warm loaf of bread from him. That means "Mother" and I answer him with "Olim!" which means "son." He cheerfully gives me informal Turkish lessons each morning, and now I can say the Turkish words for bread, eggs, tea and I believe I've memorized the numbers one (bir), two (iki) and three (uch). I knew more but I forgot. It will come back to me when I return. No matter. I can't add up the bill anyway, even when he tries to help, because Turkish money has so many numbers on it you go into shock when you look at it.

Olim at the Grocery...

If I come up early enough, I can hear the donkeys clopping along, pulling painted carts whose wooden wheels rattle on the cobblestone streets, carrying a couple or small family out to tend their garden plots outside the village. I'll bring back a photo next month.

next: Market Day...