July 18, 2005

I flew into the hot region of Cappadocia and arrived in the small quiant town of Urgup in search of the the familiar kindess bestowed on me a few months ago.

To my surprise, I remembered exactly where everything was...my sevigilim, the corner bakery-coffee shop, the turkish pizza and the quaint little restaurant I loved the last time was here.

As a treat, I have experienced a few new things this time.....things that do not include the Rakuuuuuuuuu!

On an excursion, I decided to forgo the underground city for a more intimate setting. I sat with three lovely 'village' i.e. 'real' turkish women as they made a cheese pancake. Each woman from a different decade, a different decade, a different family but each with the same kind smile.

Upon request, I was requested to prepare a -gozleme (cheese and parsley crepe in hand rolled do). As I sat on the floor, the three kind women gave encouragement and giggles as I made a mess of their traditional dish.

One woman spoke perfect English and told me the story of how she had moved to Australia, gotten married into a family with an unkind mother-in-law. I wondered how many times this misfortune may have occured to young women of this harsh land. I find their soft laughter and teasing refreshing as I give a farewell kiss on each cheek, I am glad to have come on this tour.

Since that day, I have met many women...all with their beautiful scarves and kind smiles, most younger than I and all with the scars of a hard life. A life of being 'Anatolian housewifes' with hands chapped from continous dish and clothes washing, wrinkles from the harsh sun and smoking. A lifestyle that has not changed through the decades as each woman tells me their story of children, family and village.

To me, time fell back until the eldest woman's cell phone rang!