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That's eggs with sucuk (Turkish sausage), Turkish tea (at the moment unpoured), tomato and red-pepper salad, dolma (stuffed peppers), bread (both wheat toast and baguette), and a variety of cheeses. I take my tea straight, without cream (it's very caffeinated but flavorful) and dig in!
The breakfast is fantastic! The tomato and red pepper salad is probably my favorite. There's a very pesto-like flavoring on it and a bit of salt that makes it divine. The sucuk is mildly spicy and goes very well with the eggs. The dolma (I first got confused because I was picturing Greek dolma) were delicious. Just before we began eating, I asked my host family for a photo, and they obliged. [Sorry about the glare from outside, I'm still working out the kinks with my new camera.]
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| Bayram and Nurten |
"All kinds," I say.
"Do they eat white bread?" asks Bayram. "Because in Turkey until about ten years ago they didn't eat white bread. They couldn't figure out the brown wheat from the white wheat."
"Yeah, they eat white bread," I say. "I like wheat bread too. Especially the kind with nuts and seeds in it. Twelve grain. I like these baguettes, I had this wheat bread two days ago and I liked it then too."
Nurten queries Bayram again and then he says. "Do they like one kind in particular?"
"I don't think so," I say. "I guess I've never really thought about it. Some like white bread, some like wheat bread. I like olive loaf, for example."
Nurten asks Bayram what I said and he explains it. She makes a sound of understanding.
Nurten in particular is very interested in American culture. She often asks me questions about how we do things. Then Bayram and Nurten begin talking very rapidly in Turkish and I sit there and eat and listen for about five minutes. I have no idea what they're saying, but I can pick up certain words that cross over - USA, England (sounds like Enklond phonetically)--and then they go quiet for a moment.
"We are talking about the life in England," says Bayram. "It is always going down." This is the phrase they usually use about living here. "It is going down each year. Immigrants who come here and take the test work for very little and then when your Visa expires they say you have to go home or stay and get a job. Then an M.P [Member of Parliament] was saying they were going to tax the disabled. They want to tax people who cannot support themselves. And the M.P was asked by the interviewer 'How do you suppose they can pay it? Where do they get the money? Where can they work?' and the M.P. just said 'I'm not going to get into it right now' Terrible. It' keeps going down each year."
"Is it like this in United States?" asks Nurten.
Bayram answers in partial for me, "It is bad everywhere. Nowhere is good."
"It's bad," I say, nodding my head. "It's bad in America. There are no jobs and the economy is terrible. Politicians aren't helping anyone."
They both nod, understandingly.
I go up the stairs after breakfast and see Berfin, who has finally woken up and is now on the computer. I ask her for a photo, and after a bit of pleading, she agrees.
Berfin is in grade 11 (or a Sophomore in high school by American standards). The grade system is basically the same, except our Kindergarten is the English Grade 1. So: English grade system -1 = American grade system. [Again, sorry about the washed out lighting, I'm fixing it!]
I thought I'd show you all the rest of the house. Here it is from the outside.
And here is the living (television) room.
The house is two storied, compact. The kitchen and living rooms are downstairs and the bedrooms, upstairs.
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| The view from upstairs |
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