Ailem

In less than a week from today I will be at the airport in Adana, getting ready to board a plane to begin my trip back to the United States. That said, let the sentimental blogging begin! I can't believe how fast this year has gone by, it doesn't seem at all like I left ten months ago, but as the seasons come full swing I can see the differences.

For one last trip with my host family before I leave, they took me to Maraş a city about three hours north-east of Adana. My mom's brother lives there with his wife and daughter, and we stayed there for a night in September on our way to the village my host mom grew up in. Like last time we were supposed to continue on to the village but the trip was canceled. I was disappointed that we weren't going back there, I thought it would be nice to see the comparison between then and now. Then I knew nothing, now at least I know some, but I liked getting to see Maraş. It is a really old and surprisingly beautiful city. Lots of open shops and trees surrounded by brownish-red hills and dotted in the center by a castle that sits above the rest of the city. We went, my host mother, Dilşad, grandmother and grandfather, and great aunt, on a hot Saturday and with four of us squeezed into the back it felt like a long car trip. We only spent one night, most of it in their home, eating and drinking tea. We did go to the old section to buy more things, to stuff my already over-stuffed bag. I bought spices, dried eggplant and peppers to make a Turkish meal, a rolling pin , and at my host mom's encouragement, a pair of shoes though that is probably the last thing I need. Most of the time in Maraş I filled by playing with their precocious daughter Liya, we went through her children's book and she taught me words I didn't know. Even without such a high language barrier like before, I still find myself sitting awkwardly sometimes, not really sure what to do with but for the most part I enjoy being around my family here, and I think they like having me. They told me that they had gotten used to my being there and considered me as part of the family. They say I dress more like a Turk, they love it when I wear skirts because Dilşad never does, and that my Turkish is excellent. Though the real test of whether I have adapted to being here does not ride on the way I look, or the way I speak, but really, on how well I can make a pot of Turkish coffee. Ok, that's an exaggeration, but it is taken seriously. Perspective brides make it for her potential fiance's family, and it is made for most guests.  I liked it from the beginning but the past few months  I have started making it a lot, for myself and host mom or friends so I am pretty confident, but making it for my host grandparents and great aunt was nerve racking. Turks are kind but they don't coddle when it comes to making Turkish food properly which is good and bad. I carefully scooped the coffee and focused only on it while waiting for the grounds to thicken at the top and the rest to boil. So when my great aunt (the most critical one) declared that it was well done, and I am officially a Turkish child (though I shouldn't watch the tray when I carry it, and I should serve from oldest to youngest) I blushed with pride. "Eline sağlık" (health to you hands) they said,  "Afiyet Olsun" (bon appetit) I beemed.


After along trip back from Maraş a city a couple hours north of Adana we went to our family friends house to go for a swim. It was about 9:30 by the time we actually got there but at this time of year Adana never gets cold, and it was an especially balmy night. Jumping into the cool water brought me right back to my first night in Adana with my new family. An hour or so after arriving in Adana over ten months ago we went to  the same friends house and jumped into the same pool. Completely unaccustomed to the heat that hit me when I stepped off the plane and onto the hot pavement of Adana's airport there was nothing better than being submerged in the quiet water. Back then I knew almost nothing about my family, Dilşad spoke with me in English but it was sort of awkward, and my host mom and I couldn't exchange any words at all. After swimming in the pool that night I quickly feel asleep on the couch, exhausted from travel. But last night I sat on the porch with my host mom, sister, and their friends and ate fruit, sipped tea, and talked. The difference is astonishing, less because I can now speak, and more because I feel so comfortable around all of them. It's natural, Dilşad making fun of me, me trying to translate my retort quickly and usually to no avail and then my mom and her friend defending me. It all feels so normal now, part of the routine, which I guess is why it doesn't seem at all real that I won't be part of it anymore.

With my immediate family, Dilşad and my host mom, Nihal things couldn't be much better and a small but important sign of that is the names we use to identify each other . She introduces me to people as her daughter and only if asked explains that I am an American exchange student. When she is talking to me she calls me aşkim (my love) or charlottecim (my charlotte) and in turn I call her anne or annecim(my mom). Dilşad usually refers to my as kardeş (sibling) or fil (elephant), a slight at my weight gain here.  I'll miss sitting around with them eating dinner, or watching TV and honestly I think they will miss me, especially Dilşad who will have nobody to make fun of.