The limitations of my current life due to language...

Shari and I paid a visit to their neighbors upstairs yesterday afternoon. The eldest daughter, Vedia, is learning English, and Shari thought I might be able to help. It was good to meet them, especially the little shrieker I hear early every morning - their two-year old daughter. The walls are rather thin in this housing complex. She's the cutest little two-year old I've ever met. I actually enjoyed hearing her little voice this morning now that I've met her.

It was a difficult visit for me, to say the least - though I enjoyed it thoroughly. I feel so useless here somedays. The visit inspired me to work harder at Turkish, and to pray harder for the Turkish people. When we walked into their home Vedia attempted to greet me in the traditional Turkish way - they do the whole cheek to cheek deal twice - but I'd forgotten and stuck out my hand. I quickly realized this was wrong. You can probably picture how awkward it was.  


The reason for the difficulty of the visit wasn't because they were unpleasant women - the mother has this infectious, welcoming laugh and Vedia has a sweet smile, thought she's shy with her English. Both are very hospitable. They sat with us, while the little one stumbled all over the room, climbing on furniture, etc. The father was in the house. He stuck his head in at one point, but I think it would have been improper for him to join us. They're a pretty religious family; the father is a religious teacher, and Islam is strict on proper gender relations. They were wonderful hostesses. Hospitality is a major staple of Turkish culture. We had cucumbers, an orange, small green plums, a banana, and a kiwi served to us, with a side dish of salt for our plums and cucumbers. An afternoon visit and we get a full plate of fruit and veggies!At one point in the visiting I had quit eating, and Nuran, the mother, warmly exclaimed to me something in Turkish. Shari translated for me. She had said, "Eat, eat!" with a smile and an encouraging motioning of her hands.

The primary reason the visit proved difficult, besides my cultural blunders, is probably obvious: I can't speak their language. I have come to hate this language barrier over the past week. How am I supposed to experience Turkey if I can't communicate with her people? How can I fully experience culture without communicating with the people who's culture I'm endeavoring to experience. I'm grateful to be staying with the Lammis; I have four eager translators on hand at any moment. But I've determined to let the language bar me only as much as it has to. Vedia wants to meet again today to get some help with her English. I'm going to bring the Lammi's "Teach Yourself Turkish" book, and ask her to explain things to me in English as best she can.

After this visit I went with Kerry, Shari and their daughter Taryn to run various errands - picking up the pants Shari had tailored recently (for only 3 liras, the equivalent of about 1 dollar in the States), and to Vodafone to see if we could get my malfunctioning phone plan figured out. It was pretty hilarious. The salesman often directed his instructions to me time and time again, and had Kerry tell him time and time again that I don't speak Turkish so he'd have to speak with him. At one point Kerry looked at me to translate and spoke in Turkish! I was so flustered! I was like, "Kerry, are you speaking to me in Turkish?" He laughed rolled his eyes, and switched modes. We had no luck getting my phone fixed, but the salesman did buy Shari, Taryn and I some ice cream at a stand a few shops down the way. The ice cream in Turkey isn't my favorite - it's got this gummy consistency. There's this particular sort called 'dondurma' which is made with goats milk and is tougher and doesn't melt as quickly as normal ice cream. The kind we had wasn't traditional dondurma, but it was chewier than normal. We spent a good forty-five minutes to an hour with the cellphone man, just chatting. Well, they chatted, I listened, enjoying at least the sound of Turkish.