Cyprus Musings 4

Cyprus musings 4


One morning last week, Ian and I went for our morning walk and happened upon Mirdina. She invited me in and served me my first Turkish Coffee. It came in a small tiny cup, about the size of a shot glass and was dark as night with a strong smell. I carefully took my first sip and was surprised at how good it tasted. After a few sips, a dark black sludge was revealed; fortunately I had been forewarned by friends not to drink it.

During our visit, Ian had to go “potty,” (yeah he is realizing this!), while we were there and she gestured to outside around the back. Hidden behind a large olive tree was a concrete shack with an old wooden door. “Okay,” I said to myself, “this will be interesting.” I took a deep breath half expecting to hold it for the next few minutes and went in, bracing myself for what lie behind the door. It was dark, and there were a variety of things piled in the corner, and on the floor was the Turkish toilet, a porcelain hole in the floor with a jug of water next to it. Although it was stained with age, it was surprisingly clean. After carefully testing the air, I found that it did not smell at all. Ian could easily do his business even without my help. I thought about how much more sanitary this was than having him sit on the dirty toilet seats in many of the restaurants we have visited.

When we returned, Mirdina handed Ian some light brown stuff for him to drink. It had little mysterious somewhat ominous things floating in it. She took a drink first, very reassuring, and then handed it to Ian. He drank it down with a big smile and loved it! I tasted it too and it was amazing. She brought out a carrot and a dried fig and motioned that she cooked these in water and that made this drink! The floaties I now recognized as fig seeds. She was beaming, and she sent me home with a huge bowl of homemade olives, a banana, a bowl of grapes with a few figs and some lemons! I felt like a queen.

I have now filled the bowl with M&M's, homemade banana bread, and some apple bars to return to her. I am taking my Turkish phrase book this time!

Ashagu, Mirdina’s daughter came by for Haley last Monday afternoon to see if Haley wanted to go into the olive groves where her mother was harvesting, and I tagged along to see what was happening. A plastic tarp lay on the ground and four women in skirts, shirts and head scarves were raking the tree causing olives, both black and green, to fall, bouncing, and rolling everywhere. Some women sat on the ground tossing the stray olives onto the tarp, while others were on small ladders reaching for the olives above. Ashagu and a young boy helped toss the olives onto the tarp and also ran and laughed and climbed the tree as their mothers objected in Turkish. I couldn’t understand the words, but I understood the gestures and the tone of voice! “Stop that! What are you doing? You need to help us!” I’m guessing of course. Haley reluctantly raked beside me and kept saying “This is interesting.”

Mirina let me wear a beautiful scarf that her older daughter sent her from Turkey, to protect my head from the falling debris. Her daughter is a teacher on the mainland. The ladies laughed and talked and occasionally looked at me with smiling eyes and sweet faces. “Turkish Coffee?,” Mirdina asked me and I said “Yes.” About 15 minutes later a lovely woman in jeans and a t shirt brought a tray filled with Turkish tea cups. We all had some. They asked me if I wanted a little sugar and when I gestured that I wanted “A LOT of sugar” they all laughed hysterically.

I tried to explain that I was a teacher, and in broken English one woman asked “Mathematics?” I thought, “How do I explain, without language of course, that I teach communication courses?” I had to think about that for a while, and of course my small Turkish dictionary was no help at all. Finally, I stood up and acted like I was giving a speech. Well, that just about did them in. They laughed so hard I thought they would never stop. They probably didn’t understand me, but at least I was entertaining!

One final note, while I was helping with the olives, I started to feel little pin pricks up my legs. I stomped my feet and was shocked to find ants falling out of my pants! Now I completely understand the song “Move it Move it” from the movie Madigascar 2 that says “Ants in my pants, ants in my pants, ….that’s why I keep on movin…” Yeah, that made them laugh too.