Eminonu and Suleyman Cami

We both woke up at 6:00, refreshed, had breakfast and went to the village to take the ferry to Eminomu. The ferry clerk was very unhelpful, telling us there were no boats to town. As we waited, a smaller ferry sailed up, and we hopped on as it was heading to Ortakoy, Besiktas and eminomu. We had a great ride, good pictures, though it was cool, because of the breeze. We got off at the Galata Bridge, and wound our way up to Suleyman, a delightful walk because the streets were narrow and colorful, though nothing like last Saturday; we should nevercome to the city on Saturday. We picked up some mixed nuts, maras biber, lemon pepper, and various evil eyes along the way, taking about an hour to get to Suleyman, where we are now sitting, drinking tea at a restaurant, in the shade, with a lovely breeze. Along the way we small the following: ktichen wares, delis, maniquiins, tea and coffee, olive shops, spcies, shoe shine kits, lighters, suits, luggage, It was a delightful morning to walk, browse, no hurry and not many people, at least not like last week. Everything around the outside of the spice bazaar seemed cheaper and wonderful, whether fish, cheese, spices, or other food stuffs…a great area to walk and not busy. Unfortunatley, when we got to Suleiman, it was closed, as John has said, so we were able to only enter part of the grounds, and a bit of the antechamber, but not the mosque proper, which was very disappointing. We stayed only a short time, and mosyed around the area for a bit, mostly a unintersting, more modern area, just below the university. We ended up eating at the same place we had tea, Kanaat Lookantasi Kuru Fasulyeci; the specialtiy, obviously is kury fasulye, and it it wonderful, served with a hot pepper in the bowl. The restaurant is packed, and of the five restaurants in a row, just outside the mosque, everyone specializes in kuru falsuye. Again, it’s a beautiful day, especially for eating outside, a nice breeze, not to hot yet, as people, mostly Turks, enjoy their lunch outside. We ended up staying for Turkish coffee and tel kadife, shredded wheat with sugar syrup. The bill was 28 liras mostly because of the dessert which cost 7 lira, the coffee, which all added up. We then worked our way down through alleys, as the streets were much more crowded in the afternoon, and the Galata Bridge was, as usual, a mass people moving in all directions, with hawkers, food stelles, interspered everywhere. Thank goodness they have walk ways that go under the street, or to the other side of the bridge, otherwise it would be a nightmare. We took the tram to Kabatas, the bus make to the village, shopped briefly at Migros and went home. We worked on pictures, took a cat nap, and went for a walk to Bebek between 5:30 and 6:30. We took the next hour and a half to get ready to go out with the RC grads, as the car was picking us up at 8:00

Hagia Sophia

For some reason, we are both loggy this morning, perhaps too wine last night, so we didn’t head off till around 9:30, taking the bus to Kabatas, the tram to Hagia Sophia. It was a warm day, and such a convenient way to get downtown. The tram also stops at the Kapali Carsi so one can stay on it one more stop to get there Hagia Sophia was a bit disappointing because of he huge scaffolding right in the center, under the dome. It obstructed the marvelous sense of airyness and openess that I remember. We waited for about five minutes to get tickets, put our bags through an x ray before going in, and joined the throngs inside. Something is lost we the crowds but you still get a sense of the artistry and building masters who put this toether in the 5th century BCE. It’s mostly marble, cobble stoned floors, marble columns, mosaics on the wall, many covered by the Ottonmans, plus drab frescoes, mostly designs, so I am not sure when they were done. The most obtrusive part, which I remember from thirty years ago, are four huge, perhaps 20-30 in diameter, disks, placed up high, with arabic script. It just doesn’t belong here anymore since it is a museum, not a muslim holy place. We are now sitting in a lovely shaded café, facing the Blue mosque, a oasis in this hot day. I love tea houses like this, even if there are lots of tourists using it. Fortunately, it’s another cloudless, blue day, so I should not complain about ti being hot. Later in the afternoon, around 6:00, we walked to Bebek and back, a lovely night to walk, had a dinner at home of salad and Hasan’s pasta, and relaxed watching CNN. About 8:30, I got hungry for a tatli, so I went to Migros, picked up two sutlac’s and brought them home, less than a dollar for each one. They were quite nice, as we went to bed by 9:30.

Besiktas dinner in Sariyer with Zeki

Spent the morning on the RC campus, and wrote it up in my RC diary. Right now, we are sitting in a lovely tree shaded tea house in Besiktas, where we have been roaming for about two hours. It’s more the old city, not very touristy, with lots of shops, closed streets, and a wonderful fishmarket surrounded by fish restaurants, much like we found in Fethiye. The streets, like elsewhere, are cobblestoned and windy, so that I lost my bearings, and ending walking away from the sea, rather than towards it. That never used to happen when I lived it. Fehmi called, and we are going out tonight around 8:00 to a restaurant in Sariyer.
We left for the restaurant about 7:45 and it took us quite awhile to wind our way along the Bosphorus all the way to Sariyer, with constant chatter of our driver, Ates Bey. As usual, he seems full of energy, talks non stop and it fun to be with. We ended up eating at a restaurant set above the water in Sariyer, and though it was quie large, there seemed to be only two other parties during the evening. It was a wonderful Turkish meal, and everything seemed to have been planed, starting with mezze for the first hour or so, then a final fish, followed by dessert and coffee. Battal, Fehmi, Ates, Ahmet and Bulent Karpat, an older player and tv announcer, a friend of Battal, were there with Zeki coming a bit later, as well as Izzet from Galata saray and Hasan Arat, a younger player from Besiktas who is now a very wealthy investor and exporter of textiles to the US. He was fun to talk to, as he remembere me playing, as we was a teenager at the time. He has a son going to Fordham, who plays water polo, and he was able to show pictures on his phone. He said he had been talking with his buddy, the ownder of the Four Seasons hotel, and he told him he was going out with Besiktas Tom, and he remembered me and wants to take us out to dinner. He also called so one, to tell them I was in town, and they wanted to know if I still had my mini van. A small world. It was really good to see Zeki…according to the players, he never comes to any of the gatherings and they had not seen him in years, so it was really an honor to have him show up. He looks good, played till he was in his later 40’s and seemed to enjoy the gathering. I am beginning to feel sorry for Ates and Mine, as they have to pick us up, and suffer through these things, even though they don’t drink, and Ates dislikes fish. He gets tired, as he says, of the palaver of the guys after a couple of rakis. I had a good talk with Ahmet; he really seems to be very social conscious, wants to make Turkey, especially its youth better. He wants me to send him pictures of my family so he can show others how important family is too us. He also put pictures from our last dinner on his web site and I received the award for the most healthy looking of the crew, a dubious honor no doubt. After numerous hugs and pictures, and lots of food, we were the first ones to leave, getting home around 11:30. It was a great night, with extraordinary food, grilled sardines to begin with salad, melon, and cheese, then calamari, then boreks of two or three different kinds, eggplant salad, seaweed salad of a sort, then lufer for each, my favorite fish (I am getting better at eating the whole fish with out making a mess, as there is an art of fileting it, picking out the center bones). At times, it’ hard because we don’t talk Turkish, so there are interludes where we just sit and listen to them tell stories; then one will look up and fill us in on what has been happening. Evie took lots of pictures, but I forgot too, so there may be only a few of her with the team. As usual, when we left, everyone was trying to make plans for the next time we get together and no one can agree; there was talk of going to the Princess Islands for the day, to Buyukada, but who knows where we will end up. Ahmet and Nikki want to have us over as does Fehmi and Florette, as does Mustafa Dilber and Leyla. Suddenly, we are very popular, so we ought to warn Linda and Ron. Fehmi also remembers holding Jill, patting her on the back, telling her he would marry her one day.

Lunch at Karaca in Rumeli Hisar with Ates/Mustafa Dilber

We woke around 7:30, relaxed for an hour, had yogurt, and then we walked for little over an hour to Hisar, just beyong the Bosphorus University campus, had a lunch of menemen at the Kale Cay Bachesi, as we watched the ferries bring tourists along the sea to see the various sights, especially Rumeli Hisar. It is always entertaining to walk the Bosphorus promenade, from Kurucesme to just beyong Hisar, all walk ways along the water. Hundreds of people are fishing, jogging, walking, with wives, chidlren, or with their dogs. Hawkers are selling fishing equipment, food like simits, and there are small huddles of fishermen, that I mentioned on an earlier day. One thing I forgot to mention was perhaps the most innovate business man; as we walked along the Bosphorus, with saw a line of about 20-30 balloons, a few yards of the edge of the bank, in the water. We were puzzled as to what they were until we go closer and saw they were targets for, I assume, some kind of pellet or bebe gun. For a price, you could see how many ballons you could break. Marvelous. We are meeting Ates, Mine, and Mustapha Dilber and his wife Leyla, for an early lunch. He is a professor from Bosphorus University; I knew him slightly from before and actually went to see him talk at KSU one evening, probably twenty years ago. I assume he teaches business or economics of a sort, and has taught in the US at times as well.
Ates picked us up with Mustafa, and we headed into Hisar to eat at Karaca, or Osman Bey’s from the old days. They had a table set for us upstairs, windows open, overlooking the water. The meal was more or less settled, as usual, beginning with a great salad, melon and bread; then the eggplant puree to finish the first course. Then, we had calamari and fried mussels, to set us up for our main course, a fish of our choice, in this case my favorite, lufer, grilled and sweet and mosit. After the fish, we had crème d’mint, then kave, then melon, grapes, pears, apples and helva, a Turkish sweet. We sat there and talked for at least two hours, as Mustafa is a neat guy, retired but still teaching three or four hours a day. His wie, Leyla, is very interesting as well. At the end of the meal, we thought we were heading home but Ates had other ideas, tea and sweets at his sister in law’s sons house, about 15 minutes from the city. They live in a gate community, a lovely home, landscaped with grass and a swimming pool, one of the kinds of communities that are springing up for white collar workers. This is actually the first single home family house with a yard that I have seen in Turkey. We had tea, of course, cheese, bread, the brownies and cheese cake to finish up. We had to leave early unfortunatley but the nephew was going to our village at the same time, so he was able to take us, driving fast but under control, through narrow back streets to avoid the traffic. Once again, we had an amazing day, a great walk, meal, conversation, and fun. We returned exhausted although it’s only six so we probably will not go out again tonight, just stay in an relax.

Taksim and Beyoglu

We relaxed thi morning, got caught up on housekeeping. Pictures, and emailing, and headed off by bus to Taksim; on the bus, we met a women who grew up in New Jersey. She was in Istanbul for a year, tryin to set up a business, arranging for students to come to the states for 3 months and learn Englsh. She did not seem to like Istnbul much and wished she were back in the States. The bus was very crowded and we had to wait quite a while because most of them go to Kabatas. We packed ourselves in, like sardines, hung on and were in Taksim in about 15 minutes. The square, of course is unrecognizable, much larger than I remember, the streets go in all directions, and I was not even sure I was on Cumhurriet until I saw the Hilton. They have closed off many of the streets around the square, making it a walkers paradise. Thus, we are sitting at a café, having tea, and kaymakli baklava. The square is filled with tea houses, hawkers, and various other stalls, as it’s still the center of the city. Evie took a picture of the patissserie, as the delights look eatingly, a new word. It seems so strange to walk around in a city you once new so well, on streets you walked hundreds of times, and now feel lost. I am not even sure where Istiklal caddesi begins. It is so nice to be able to sit down, relax with a tea when pooped, and then move on and explore. We ate our baklava at Muhammed Said’s Baklavaci. We have walked down almost to the end of Istiklal Caddesi, the main shopping street in the Galata side of Istanbul. They have turned, what was a street when I was here, into a walking mall, filled with shops of all prices on either side, large small, retail, restaurant, chai house, you name it, they have it. We stopped in a posh store called Mavi, then Bun Design, and ending eating just next to the British consulate at a pide/kebab place. It was kind of neat because, sitting next to us, was an official from the consulate, so we ended up eating and talking with him. He has been here for a year, resides in Tarabya, and ran their last evening, from his office, taking little of two hours, he said. On the 18th of October, there will be a run across the Bosphorus Bridge, or you can walk the 8km fun run, starting at 9:30. We ended up winding our way down to a café, right neat the Galata Tower, just off of what I will call Musical Instrument street, shops all selling things having to do with intstruments. At Paschabachi (famous glass) we were looking at evil eyes in various forms. An elderly gentleman asked me if I knew what they symbolized and told him yes. He said he didn’t believe in them (in somewhat broken English) and that all people are basically good unless they prove otherwise. He thought that displaying the evil eye outside your home was displaying distrust in other people. As I sat here writing, I just realized the Galata Tower is rising up behind us. I guess I must have missed it, sitting down. It is fun just sitting here watching the people go by, trying to figure out what their nationality is, what their relationship is to each other. It’s so nice to be able to sit down, have a tea, write a bit, talk, then be on our way. What a city Istanbul has become, great for the locals, great for tourists. We continued our walk down to Kadikoy, next to the Galata Bridge, hoping to get a ferry boat back to the village. No luck, so we had to take a bus to Ortakoy, another one to Kurucesme. We met a guy who worked in the state for an 800 number company; he says he remembers USA-800. After 9/11, all the call centers went to India so he is back in Istanbul teaching English, a good guy and left us his card. We stopped at Migros, got the ingredients for Hasan’s pasta, stopped at a café just beyond the RC gate, and had a beer for 8 liras, about eight dollars. It was not worth it. We had a great dinner, watch CNN and Evie worked on pictures.

A Day of Contrasts: Spice Bazaar and Istinye Park Mall

We were up by 7:00, checked my email, wrote a couple of replies, and then, as Evie worked on the pictures, I put on my ipod and walked to Bebek and back, picking up bread and a simit on the way back. What a wonderful walk it is, as fisherman line the promendade between the two villages, mostly the wealthy seem to be out for walks or runs, even with dogs, and fisherman huddled around little tables, sharing a breakfast of tea, hard boiled eggs, beyaz peynir, tomatoes, and the like. How long them have been there, I am not sure, perhaps all night, as they make their living by renting fishing equipment. I wish I had my camera as one older man, lay on the bench, fishergear nearby, dozing, no doubt having been there most of the day and night. I came home, showered, and started today’s entry, with Bosphorus gleaming in the window. We went into the city, taking bus to Kabatas, then the tram into the city, getting off at Karakoy. We walked across the bridge to the Yeni mosque an water front, where four or five fishing boats, huge and decorated in Ottoman style, cook fish and offer a fish and bread sandwich. The waiters are dressed in Turkish costumes, so it attracts lots of tourists. Then, we went into the Spice Bazaar, much the same, but with less spice and more stories selling various sundries. We bought some urga biber, thought we got taken, but found out we got the cadilac of the spice, if we are to believe the seller. The streets are packed with shoppers, more than I can ever remember, and it never let up, whether the main or side street. No wonder there are 16 million people in Turkey. We mostly looked, rarely stopping to shop, just people watching and we would not know where to begin with buying, as we have so much stuff from our previous stay. We ended up at the Brothers Jewelery, a place we used to go and recommended by Eptings. We talked with Yusuf for over an hour, had tea, and eventually we each bought a puzzle ring, He remember me, for sure, as he was able to tell a funny story about a five foot friend being called Tom Davis because he had long hair like me. We then went and ate in our old restaurant, Havuzlu in the Bazaar, and had wonder doner and an eggplant dish, just as I remember. We then headed home, the same way, through even more people; the crowds of shoppers don’t stop, various sizes, mostly lower middle class, many dressed in black with burkhas, a shock at first to see as well as many women, with boy friends often, with scarves on. We took the tram back to Kabatas, waited quite awhile for the bus, and got back about three. About three thirty, Ates called and wondered if we wanted to go to Istinye Park. We thought it would be fun, got ready to go to the park, only to find out it’s the largest, perhaps most chic as well. We were in a bit of a shock, as we wound our way up the circular parking mall to park our car; it had small red/green lights over the spot to let you know if there was an open space on the line. By the way, Ates was his usual self, talking non stop, making jokes and showing or telling us about everything we were passing, especially the Little Manhattan which we passed. Getting back to the mall, we walked around, amazed by the modernity of its architecture and clientele. It’s clear there is lots of money in Istanbul. The upper level is out side, with a glass restaurant in the middle of a square, surrounded by the biggest names in shopping, from DeBeers, to Louise Vitton, Jimmy Chou, and so on. A couple of Ferraris were parked in front of some of the stores, and everyone was out to look good and be seen, or so it seemed. We walked around, went in one store to return something, where Ates knew the salespeople, introduced us, and told him all about us. The salesperson was very nice, seemed pleased to see us. Ates then took us to an upper scale store called Vakko, where Mine seems to shop a lot. We were once again, introduced to all the salespeople and treated to capuccino. We then were taken to the food court, for anything we might want, from sushi, to Turkish food, to Pop Eyes, to Burger King, to chinese, to whatever. We then went to the indoor market, a marvelous area of the most amazing goodstuffs, organic products, surrounded by restautrants. We ended up eating a fish restaurant, picking out the our to be grilled, from the market, and eating it. We loved the hamsi, or sardines, fried, and both Evie and I had lufer, which was really fine, easy to eat though an entire fish, not fishy, light and tasty. As we sat there, at least three or four different couples walked by, knew Ates, and stopped by to talk and be introduced to us. It’s amazing, as everywhere we go, people know our Turkish friends. We then walked back through the mall, ran into two basketballers I remember, both in their 60’s, and we got pictures, Absurdly, Atex and one of the players seemed to get upset about an incident between them that happened forty years ago, where Ates supposedly told the guy he ‘fucked his mother,’ and Ates says the guy was always grabbing his privates. Ates would not admit he said it; the guy would not back down and they really started raising therr voices until Nur told me to take that crazy Ates away, which I did. Only in Turkey. As we wound our way out, we had to stop for sweets and I finally had some firin sutlac, or milk pudding which I love. In fact, Mine made me get another to take home because I liked it so much. We then drove home via the Bosphorus, down back narrow streets to the main Bosphorus road, then on to our apartment. We stayed up till 11”00, as Evie worked on pictures and I read and watched CNN. It was certainly a day of stark contrasts, the old city, with its mass of people, colors, shops stuffed together and narrow alleys, and Istiny Park, with its well appointed stores like Vendi, its wide avenues, wealthy families, with children, filling a Saturday evening at the mall, shopping and people watching, and being watched.

Mall Hopping/Dinner with Ates

As usual, Ates (my Besiktas teammate) had called the other day, said he would pick us up at noon on Friday, but didn’t go into details. Earlier he had mentioned visiting one of his daughters, who has a boat, perhaps taking a boat trip, so we thought there was a possibility of that, and brought along jackets. Well, once we got into the car, he announced we were going to visit two more malls today, one called Kanyon, which suggests its outer shape of looking like a ship with sails. It turned out to be a beautiful curve mall from the outside, with wonder shapes and lines, circular inside, so you walked around a larger inner core, mostly open, and the stores were on the outside of the circle, if that’s clear. We continued to make jokes about Mavi jeans, because Julia had said she loved these jeans. So, of course, we had to look for a Mavi jean store but first we went to eat at the food court, Turkish version, which actually has a Mc Donald’s, but many other marvelous trendy looking spots, from sushi to Turkish to Chinese, all filled during the lunch hour with prosperous looking people, all Turks. As Ates confirmed, and as we thought to ourselves over the past week, all Turks do is eat. Everywhere we have been, restaurants, whether in tourists or normal areas, seem full of people, eating, drinking, conversing, whatever hour of the day, whether noon, early evening or night. It seems to never stop. Anyways, we went to get doner kebab at Saray, a restaurant supposedly owned by the mayor of Istanbul, a friend of Mine’s, though it was once a great restaurant in Taksim when we lived here…we may have gone there. We ordered Iskender kebab, which has pita, meat, tomato sauce and yogurt. Of course, Ates wants us to try everything on the menu even though we try to say NO…which is impossible. He won’t listen. He insisted on ordering me a special yogurt, which is made from Buffalo milk, and I must agree, it was the best I have ever had, thick, creamy, sweet almost, like eating the very best of puddings. Our Iskender’s came and they were wonderful, just what we were hankering for. We had eaten iskenders a couple of days ago but the meat was tough, the kebab so. This was the best, great meat, tomato sauce, yogurt on the side, thick so they could serve it as a slab. Of course, we were full by the end of the meal, but it did not end. Ates made us go up to the counter that had all sorts of sweets and we had to order something. I got egmek kadaife, which is basically a bread soaked in honey with kaymak on top (the crème of a buffalo, which is my favorite). Evie order a Su Borek, which is something similar to a noodle borek, with cheese but it’s made from phyllo dough, or in Turkish yukfa. Needless to say, we ate hardly more than half of our desserts…they are sitting in our refrigerator right now as we had to take doggy bags home. We left home around noon, and it was now 2:00. So we went out to see the other mall shops, ended up in a wonderful glass store called Pasabachce, where we admired the various glass works. I made the mistake of deciding to buy an evil eye on a stand. Mine (Ates’ wife) heard me order it, grabbed the salesperson, and insisted on buying it for us. No matter our protestations…it was a done deal; we now had a beautiful evil eye for our house So, on we went, with Ates leading the way, to mostly high end stores like Harvey Nichols, a London based store, like Saks. Nothing was affordable but we could look. We finally went to a stationary store where we bought some paints and sketches books for Lara, their 8 year old granddaughter, a cutie who reminds us so much of Marisa in personality and looks. We did go to Mavi jeans, to look for a tee shirt for me with Istanbul written on it, but they had only one I liked and the XL was too small. Evie did get a black ¾ length blouse or tee, in wonderful cotton, with the Istanbul skyline and the words Istanbul beneath, as if reflected in water. It looks really good on her. So we continued our stroll; Ates and I usually let the ladies go in a store, and we would sit down outside, as Ates has a bad knee and limps quite a bit. He says this is what he does with his days. He is a chauffeur for his wife; she goes in a mall, he finds a coffee shop and tells her to come back in two hours. And there are coffee shops in all the malls, either Starbucks, or another chain called Gloria Jeans, which is all over Europe. It is fun to be with Ates as he talks with eveyrone, as if they are his good friends, whether the waiter, a salesperson, or just someone who is standing around the mall, like us. We then left Kanyon about 4:00 and went to a mall slightly older and smaller. Either Evie or I had mentioned dish washing detergent, which was mistake number two, after admiring the evil eye. That led us after browsing another mall, this one with Marx and Spencer, and London based department store, to Migros, a grocery store, looking for dishwashing detergent. AS we entered, Ates said, why don’t you come to our house for fish…of course we tried to say no, it was too much trouble, etc, to no avail, so they called their maid, and we bought sweets, salmon, vegetables, bulgar, wine, all we might need for dinner and headed to Ates’s apartment for high tea, then dinner. On the way, he said why not invite Mustafa and his wife Leyla too, a couple we had had dinner with last week, a teacher at Bosporus University, who I had known back in the RC days. When we arrived at Ates apartment, he would not let us bring the groceries in…the maid would come and get them. So, we went up, and he immediately took us to his granddaughter’s room; she had just returned from school. She was sitting on her bed, eating a snack of crackers, cheese, and tomatoes. Lovely. We then relaxed for a few minutes, while Mine and the maid got high tea ready. We sat down around their glass coffee table, in a very formal living room for cheese, three kinds, tomatoes, then chocolate brownie cake, and cookies. Needless to say, we were still full from lunch, but we ate as much as we could, talked, and had two or three cups of tea. By this time, it was arranged for Mustafa to come, so Ates and I went to pick him up, about ten minutes away via back alleys and some roads. While I was gone, Mine showed Evie pictures of their wedding, things like that, mostly of her and her family, none of Ates and her, which was strange. I guess this is tradition…as Ates said, they have all kinds of pictures of her parents, none of his because that is the custom, only the wife’s parents pictures are on display. We all sat down on their third floor apartment balcony, with chips, walnuts and apricots as snacks, talked, drank wine, and Ates got out his old photo albums, of the Besiktas days and when he was in high school and college. We took about an hour to go through them and talk, which was fun. Evie also pulled out our computer to show them pictures from the last dinner, our dinner with Mustafa and his wife, and a picture of Marisa, to show them how much she reminded us of Lara. Ates kept pulling pictures out that he was going to photocopy for me. Briefly, Ates’ oldest daughter stopped in(the divorced mother of Lara), said hello, remembers her father always telling to her about ‘the legend’ Tom Davis. She was soon off to dinner and no doubt a club with friends; I get the feeling that Ates and Mine do most of the parenting. After we were about finished, Lara came out with two huge albums of her baby pictures, sat on my lap, and Evie and I went through them with her, even though we could not communicate very well. She really took to Evie and by the end of the night, she clung to her life clue, in fact, she drove back to our apartment with us at 10:30, just to be with her. After photographs and snacks, we sat down to an elaborately set table, of china and silverware, and various colored small stones scattered on the table as a design, and had a dinner of salmon, with tomato sauce on top, and salad. As we were eating our first course, we could not help but notice how meticulously Lara was eating her dinner, taking apart the fish with fork and knife, carefully, to make sure there were no bones, pushing together every last bite of her bulgur pilaf, also with knife and fork. Ates proudly mentioned how wonderful she eats, where as her cousins eat like animals with their hands. She is no doubt Ates’ favorite and he is her favorite, always hugging and kissing him. After we finished the salmon and salad, our plates were taken away by the maid, another plate set, and we were served bulgur pilaf, which looked like large grains of rice flavored with tomato. It was also served in a cake form, so it was sliced and put on our plates. Then, we were served eggplant with tomatoes, kind of a stew that was done in the oven. Together, they made a tasty second course, and I even had seconds on both. After that, we had dessert, more brownie cake and chocolate ice cream, finishing it all with Turkish coffee. We listened most of the night to oldiest from the sixties, Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, Tom Jones, and Mustafa and Ates knew almost all of the words to the songs, singing them as we talked and ate. Their favorite and ours, now, was called I Know What It is Like to Be Young, and older song sung by Orson Wells, but they also have a Turkish version. The lyrics are very apt for old men like us. We talked quite a bit with Leyla, Mustafa’s wife, his fourth by the way, who had been to the US quite often, as she had worked for various hotels, and she had gone to summer school at Cornell’s Hotel Management School. Because Mustafa was teaching in Izmir Saturday (he flies there every Saturday), they wanted to leave early as it was 10:30, so Ates took us all home, despite the protestations of Mine who wanted us to stay longer. Lara came with us; we dropped off Mustafa and Leyla, then we were taken home, said good bye to Ates and Lara, and went to bed around 11:30. I forgot to mention that while we were at Ates’, one of my other Besiktas teammates called and invited us for brunch on Sunday at a hotel in old Istanbul. That means we had lunch and dinner yesterday(Friday) with Ates, dinner tonight(Saturday) at Fehmi’s on the Asian side, with Ahmet and Nikki, then brunch tomorrow, Sunday with Faruk, his wife, and Ates and Mine. As you can see, we live a pretty busy life. We are slowly learning the ways here…to go prepared even though you think your visit might be for a couple of hours. Remember, it’s impolite to leave any food on the plate. If you mention you like something, it’ yours, whether a food, a place you want to visit, or a piece of art you find attractive. As Ates says, this is Turkish hospitality, their way of treating guests, so get used to it. They won’t change! By the end of the visit, we will feel, no doubt, a huge debt of gratitude, one that we cannot possibly hope of repaying because of their kindness and generosity.