it is late at night in Burhaniye Turkey and i am beat.
near full points for getting out of London this morning on British Airways -- one bureaucratic snafu that they made out to be much more than it actually was and that made me sweat for a moment. but going through passport control in turkey was less involved than ordering a happy meal -- seriously, sixty seconds end to end, no forms, no questions, not even one word out of the passport guard who stamped my passport, then looked at its information, then handed it back. and now i am in turkey staying in a house that is heated with coal.
like, actually heated by burning coal in a stove, not heated by a powerplant that uses coal to turn turbines and generate electricity and power electric heaters.
mehmet has just moved in himself and is still setting things up. his girlfriend Oor is here as well.
i have not seen much of the town since it was night when we drove in and i was groggy besides. we had dinner in Izmir with the mayor of Burhaniye who was there with mehmet when he picked me up. i had my first olive within fifteen minutes of landing -- purpley, salty. we stopped for dinner in Izmir at a fancy restaurant such as the mayor of the town would eat at.
"what would you like to drink?" asked Mehmet.
"coffee," i said, since i always drink coffee. then i realized. "unless, unless you have coffee after the meal here."
Mehmet said something to the waiter in turkish. i understood the word for coffee and the word american : negative. and a word that must have meant filtered. also negative.
Mehmet looked at me. "it doesn't work that way here."
"then i'll have what you are having," i said, so we shared some wine.
then our waiters brought around a big tray of appetizers in little ceramic dishes and mehmet told me, choose. so i chose one. but in fact for appetizers you choose like six and even if i'd known that, do you just grab the dishes yourself (you do not, they pass them to you), and besides, what is what? so the others at the table chose as well. we had palm hearts, fava bean spread, couscous, artichoke spread, a salad made from the tops of a vegetable like a raddish, and bread.
normally i eat quite quickly. but people eat like they make love and did not come all this way not to learn a few things. i tried the bread first, a soft brown round loaf. i tore into it, no butter at the table. even under my fingers its texture was different. i tasted some. lots of flavour, salty. i was like, ok, this is your new life, don't gulp. then i was like, this is just the bread. then i was like, exactly: this is just the bread.
it was good. dinner was good especially the giant roasted green bean, also brussels sprouts, broccoli, and tomato.
desert was figs stuffed with walnuts and rich cream and sprinkled with pistachios, those were delicious and we finished with coffee in tiny cups and turkish cigarillos with beechwood tips.
then into the car where i slept the whole rest of the way in spite of myself -- i am tired -- though i did see a truck packed full with bunches of leeks, eyes painted on the back bumper. then in to Mehmet's house past the warehouse/factory where the olivemagic happens. another building on that site houses a kitchen suitable for preparing weekly feasts. much bigger than the kitchen in mo's house. it is equipped with all sorts of restaurant equipment and gas ranges and the pantry is well-stocked with everything fresh and local. evidently they feast often in turkey and soon i will too. above the kitchen is an empty loft space with hardwood floors where mehmet tells me i will teach yoga, though he did not specify to whom. i am also told i will be teaching english and french.
a cat lives in this house that looks like my Marianne but is considerably fatter. there are grape vines strung to shade the backyard. the porch looks onto a street and if you cross the street and walk down you are at the aegean sea, and you can swim to the greek island of Lesbos (says mehmet -- it is too dark for me to see for myself). the walls are brick and concrete and the floor is tile. my room is small.
bedtime now -- i have made it. the cat is purring in a fattish way.
