Grace and patience

A few different people in the UK have asked if we have a service on Christmas Day morning. If you are British, that is a perfectly normal and reasonable question to ask. If you live in Turkey, it is a question that doesn't need to be asked. Christmas Day is a normal working day here. It also falls right in the middle of one of the regular exam periods for university students - a student friend was not impressed when she realised she had three exams scheduled for Christmas Day! So a Christmas Day daytime service is not even a consideration here - 70%-80% of your congregation wouldn't be able to attend, which would be rather unfair, and because there is no concept of such a service people don't even think of it as something that they're missing out on or would like to do if they could.

There's lots of different directions this blog post could go at this point. I could talk about the impact and influence of Western Christianity here and how we have to be careful because our default position is for our culture to be mixed up with the application of truth to our lives. (And even if you're from a tradition that doesn't really celebrate Christmas and definitely doesn't want to mix symbols such as Christmas trees with any celebration of our Saviour's birth, that too is mixing a particular sub-culture with application of truth). I could talk about how the community of believers here is developing their own Christmas traditions. I could talk about how there is also the effect of Eastern Christianity here and how traditionally the 6th of January has been celebrated as Christmas in Turkey.

But actually there's something else that comes to mind. We've now lived in Turkey for not far off three years. L and I have now spent more than half of the time we've been married living in Turkey. Living in a different country and culture changes you. It exposes you to different ways of thinking and ways of life. It stretches you and shifts your perception so that you see the world through different lenses to people who have lived in one country their whole lives.

So let's make a deal. When you ask questions or make comments that I, in my default position of pride, would inwardly roll my eyes at because the answer is so blindingly obvious, I'll choose to show grace and patience to you because I live here and you don't and when I came here I didn't know the things that are now so obvious to me. And in return, when I start questioning everything that seems so clear and obvious to you and when I make comments that make you seriously wonder if we've completely gone off the rails and maybe even when I (wrongly) sometimes seem like I know better than you because I've lived in more than one country, you can choose to show grace and patience to me. And maybe we'll both grow in understanding that way.

And maybe choosing to show grace and patience is generally an especially good principle to remember at Christmas time, as most people spend time with family members who are very much loved but also can hold quite differing views on a wide variety of topics. That, and don't mention Brexit.

Christmas traditions

It's December so I think I can officially start talking about Christmas now.

This is going to be our third Christmas in Turkey! We're especially excited about this year because in addition to my parents' visit at the end of last month, L's parents are coming straight after Christmas.

But as it's our third Christmas, we've also had time to slowly start to think about how we celebrate Christmas in a country where Christmas is not celebrated. What traditions do we bring from a 'traditional British Christmas'? What can we happily leave behind? As people who believe the amazing news that our Saviour humbled himself by becoming human and being born as a baby, how does that impact how we celebrate Christmas? How do our traditions and celebrations appear to our non-believing neighbours and our believing friends? We started to think more about it last year, then we all got proper flu and that wiped out at least the first half of December. I'm sure we will continue to think and adapt our traditions.

But this year, J is now three and understands a bit more about Christmas (as evidenced the other day when he announced "I think that when it is Christmas, I am going to get a Lightning McQueen [character from the Cars Disney film] duvet cover". He's not.) 

On the 1st December, we had a special breakfast and got all of our Christmas books out. There was also be a new Christmas advent book. This year it's 'The Christmas Promise', part of the 'Tales that tell the truth' series. We already have a couple of books from that series that we love so I had high hopes for 'The Christmas Promise' and it is an excellent book (and it gets bonus points for not mentioning a stable and the fact when the wise men arrive, they're presenting gifts to a small toddler rather than a newborn baby). Last year our advent book was 'Song of the stars' by Sally Lloyd-Jones and we loved that too. 

We now have a fabric Advent Calendar that we can re-use every year. This year I'm planning on putting in some small chocolates and occasional small presents (like a new pair of socks) for some of the days, but we're also going to have some 'acts of kindness' to do on different days, like baking cookies and taking them to neighbours, making a special effort to share our toys, or concentrating on using kind words. And then our Christmas tree will go up in the next couple of days as well. 

Over the last couple of years, I've noticed that as a family, we're making advent a bigger thing. I think there's been a bit of a resurgence of thinking about advent in certain circles in recent years so in some ways we're jumping on that bandwagon. In other ways, it fits the situation here. In the UK, it's rather difficult to avoid Christmas in December and the weeks leading up to Christmas can be jam-packed with activities, so we often need to be reminded to slow down and take time to remember the miracle of the Incarnation. Here, especially outside of certain areas of Istanbul, there is (understandably) absolutely no way that you could know it's December and Christmas will be in a couple of weeks. So advent is becoming an important way for us to build up to Christmas and have time to read and talk about the amazing good news of Christmas.

As for Christmas itself, on the Sunday before Christmas Day there will be a special service to invite visitors too. In Turkey, Christmas Day is a normal working day so our Wednesday midweek meeting will be a special gathering for the believers. It's interesting seeing how the believers celebrate Christmas - some things are clearly borrowed from the West (Christmas trees!) and even here it is a special opportunity to invite people to a Sunday service. Other things are less important e.g. present giving.

We have really enjoyed hosting lots of people, especially international students, for a special Christmas meal close to Christmas Day in previous years in both the UK and Turkey, and as we have quite a lot of students here, both Turkish and international, that is something we'll probably do again - likely on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. We usually do a traditional British Christmas dinner (although it will be chicken not Turkey on the menu and I think we'll be skipping the pork sausages this year now we're out of Istanbul!), which has gone down well in the past.

As for Christmas Day itself, we're planning for it to be a low key family day. There may be a family Christmas dinner and there will definitely be chicken and stuffing sandwiches at some point. The good news is that I think we probably have a higher chance of a White Christmas than if we were in the UK, and if we drive part way up Mount Erciyes, we are guaranteed to find snow!

Things a 3.5 year old says

J is at a lovely age (most of the time). His English vocabulary is rapidly expanding - as is his Turkish vocabulary, although not to the same extent. His running commentary on life certainly makes life more interesting and frequently entertaining. Occasionally L and I find ourselves trying desperately not to laugh.

Here's a few highlights from the last few weeks:

"Thank you for my beautiful tea Mummy!"

"S is a terror!" (L is to blame for that one, not me!)

Me: "We're going to the zoo! What do you think we're going to see?"
J: "A pterodactyl?"

[J announces to a Turkish visitor at our house] "I'm making bacon! This is my bacon! I like bacon sandwiches!"

Me: "What do you think Gilly Babes [my mum] would like for her birthday?
J: "A dumper truck!"

[J trying to teach S to talk] "Say 'Thomas [the tank engine] and friends'"

"This is my train. His name is Trainy."

[J to S] "Don't knock my tower over, little one."

What temperature does water boil at?

What temperature does water boil at?

When I lived in the UK, I thought the answer to that question was fairly straightforward. And though I might have had an inkling that it wasn't quite that simple scientifically, it didn't really matter to me. 

However, where we live now, water boils at just over 96 degrees Celsius. We live at a height of about 1100m above sea level - and can see mountains from our house and neighbourhood! To put that into context, Snowdon is 1085m above sea level. So we live at a higher altitude than the highest mountain in England and Wales (though not quite as high as Ben Nevis in Scotland, which is 1345m). We look out onto a 'small' mountain from our flat and L and I have been talking about walking up it one day. But our 'small' mountain is about 1800m high. Whereas the huge mountain that we can see if we walk about ten minutes from our flat is just over 3900m high.

As far as I understand it, the simple explanation for why water boils at a lower temperature here is that as altitude increases, atmospheric pressure decreases. Lower pressure causes water to evaporate more quickly and so water boils at a lower temperature. 

To be honest, relative to the rest of the world we don't live at a particularly high altitude, just relative to the UK!

Living at this altitude doesn't actually make any difference to our daily lives (although L did try suggesting once that the reason he ached more after a run was maybe due to the altitude, especially as he ran half way up our 'small' mountain. Though I'm pretty sure it had more to do with the fact that he hadn't been doing much running for a while). 

However, it does impact cooking and baking. Water never reaches 100 degrees Celsius, so foods cooked in water (e.g. pasta and vegetables) can take a few minutes longer to cook. And according to what I've read, rising agents such as yeast, baking powder or bicarbonate of soda can create a larger rising effect while additional liquid might be needed in baking recipes to compensate for the faster evaporation.

I'm not sure I really notice the effects on cooking and baking that much, but it's nice to have a scientific excuse to fall back on if something doesn't turn out right: "oh, the recipe was written to be cooked at sea level so I probably need to adjust it a bit next time to take into account our altitude."

Seat belts, car seats and culture

We have a car! There are several reasons I am glad we have a car but probably the biggest reason I'm grateful for our car is that our children can now travel safely in car seats in our car.

In the UK, the law regarding car seats for children is strict and I think generally accepted. Before a newborn baby leaves hospital, nurses will often check that there is a car seat. Failing to transport children, especially small children, safely in a car is usually seen as not only illegal but a moral failing of a parent, a form of neglect. I'm generalising, I'm sure there are parents in the UK who don't use car seats for their children, but on the whole the use of car seats for small children seems to have entered the collective consciousness in the UK as one of those things that you really should do. A similar thing could also be said about wearing seatbelts; over several decades the introduction of new laws and hard-hitting television adverts has helped increase seat belt usage and convince the vast majority of the UK public as to the necessity of wearing seatbelts.

In Turkey, the law is clear. Everyone in a car must wear a seatbelt and children under 150cm and less than 35kg must be seated in an appropriate child car seat. And children are not legally permitted to travel in the front of the car.

However, it is fair to say that here, although the law may be clear, it is flouted regularly. Although I have seen some car seats in cars here, it is very common for children to sit on the laps of parents (more generally in the back, sometimes in the front) or to sit by themselves in the back, without car seats and often without seat belts. It is also common for the maximum occupancy of the car to be exceeded, sometimes considerably.

This has put us in an interesting position. I don't like the fact that we've done it, but we have, when necessary, taken our children in cars without car seats. This was a short term measure (until we got a car) and wherever possible, we have gone out of our way to try and make sure we travelled safely. However, while Turks are usually very concerned about children's safety and wellbeing, from the people I've encountered here, there often seems to be a lack of understanding about the importance of both car seats and seatbelts.

We had anticipated that some people here wouldn't understand the priority we put on our children travelling in car seats and that was a major factor in deciding to get a seven seater car - we wanted to be able to help by giving people lifts to meetings but still wanted J and S to be safe. However, when we first got our car, we hadn't really thought through what we would do if we were giving lifts to people who didn't use seat belts (never mind car seats), which led to at least one uncomfortable situation where we had children (not ours) in our car who were not safely restrained. After checking with a couple of people, we've learned that we can  politely request people in our car to wear a seatbelt without causing offence and now do so. We also don't take for granted that everyone will automatically wear their seatbelts and check; just the other day I had to remind a 17 year old to wear his seat belt. Car seats are a trickier issue because we really would cause offence if we refused to take somebody because there was no car seat. In addition, car seats are expensive. So we're still thinking through how to approach this one.

This whole issue has brought up bigger questions though. Generally people like us learn to think very carefully and wait to make judgements on any cultural issue. We have to appreciate that different cultural practices come from different cultural values, and usually that's fine. Different, and maybe sometimes a bit weird to us, but fine. I understand that Turkish culture is different from British/Western culture and just as there are both good and really terrible things that come about due to Western culture, there are similar good and bad things that arise from Turkish culture.

So we understand and accept that some things in this culture are just different and maybe a bit uncomfortable but depending on your cultural viewpoint, are not by themselves morally bad. For example, when I first heard that traditionally a woman would need to get permission from both her father and her older brother to get married, I was shocked. Why should an older brother get a say? But in this culture, an older brother has important responsibilities regarding his family, and as I live longer in this culture, I can appreciate the roots and logic of the practice.

But what do you do when there is something in the culture (in this case, a lack of awareness of the life-saving importance of seat belts and car seats) that you think it just plain wrong? Do we accept it anyway - we are guests in this country, after all - and just keep our thoughts to ourselves? Do we try and explain what we think? If so, how do we do that in a sensitive away, without causing unnecessary offence? How would we feel if a foreigner who'd lived a couple of years in the UK started trying to explain why something that British people were doing was wrong and should be done differently?

I don't have easy answers to these and we're still wrestling through with some of these questions. I think that one of the major factors has to be how important something is. Some people in Turkey believe that eating ice cream or going barefoot indoors in winter will make you ill. To be honest, those issues are not important enough that I'm going to worry too much about them. And if someone tells me my children should wear socks or they'll get ill, I'll happily explain why I don't believe that, but I'm not going to insist on converting everyone I meet to my viewpoint. However, seat belts and car seats are important and can literally be life or death issues. So that has to have an impact.

I've mentioned that we now have a practice of asking everyone in our car to wear a seat belt. I think that, given the right moment, I would take an opportunity to explain why seat belts (and car seats) are so important. And if I knew someone who was going to have a baby and I suspected that they were not thinking of buying a car seat, I might gently broach the subject with them and ask if they were going to get one. And undoubtedly as I spend longer in this culture, I might learn to take a different approach.

In thinking this through though, one of the points that has been going around my head has been how would I respond if I lived in the UK and a non-British person tried to tell me about something that many/most British people do which they believed was wrong and dangerous. Would I have the humility to listen to them? Could I conceive that I, and most of my country, might be wrong on an issue? Or if I was in the minority and happened to agree with the foreigner on the issue they were telling me about, would I be prepared to use my non-foreigner status in the UK to try and convince other British people that they should change their minds on a particular issue?

Paragliders

In our new flat, our balcony looks out onto a small mountain called Ali Dağı (which literally means 'Ali Mountain'). We live pretty much at the foot of it and if you look out the balcony, you can see the summit. Often we can see paragliders taking off from the top - J and S (especially S) love watching them.

The paraglider landing spot is an area of grass about 1km from our flat, with a walking/running track around it. We often head there on a Sunday afternoon for a quick walk and run around and to watch the paragliders landing.

The photos below give a fairly accurate representation of what it is like. Because not only is the paraglider landing place used for paragliders landing, at a weekend it is also full of people who've come to sit outside, kick a ball around, have a picnic and enjoy being outside on a warm afternoon. Yesterday I saw someone who had obviously ordered takeaway to be delivered to the landing place (and I thought what a great idea!).

But I do feel sorry for the paragliders. It's not enough to try and land a paraglider (which seems to require quite a bit of space and quite a lot of skill), they must also negotiate the groups of people literally sitting all over the field. Some people even bring camping chairs. And many people sit there often apparently oblivious to the paragliders landing around them, with no intention of moving whatsoever!!

I've never seen a collision yet, though I have heard paragliders shouting at people to watch out.

The side of Ali Dağı is on the left hand side of the photo, and the paraglider can be seen close to it.

Coming into land on a field full of people

Over everyone's heads

Zoomed in

And just about to land

Books I've read - Oct 2018

Being back in the UK over summer was a great opportunity to catch up on some reading. Here's a few of the books I've read (or finally finished!) and appreciated over the last few months.

The Imperfect Disciple - Jared Wilson
This book is subtitled 'grace for people who can't get their act together' and it aims to be a discipleship book that is honest about how messy real life can get, even for Christians. I loved the relentless focus on the Good News and reiteration of the concept that we never graduate from the Good News, and found Jared Wilson's conversational writing style very easy to read and engaging. However, it is quite American (a few pop culture references passed me by) and I can imagine that some readers could find the informal writing style a little tricky to get used to. But I loved it.

A couple of quotes that stood out to me:

“There is more security with Christ in the middle of a stormy sea than without Christ in the warm stillness of our bathtub.”

"It can be ok when pieces of our wish dreams come true, and some of us might actually get the whole shebang, but it's also dangerous to dwell in that imaginary world, because when our joy is placed anywhere but in Christ, we are setting ourselves up for incredible, crushing disappointment and spiritual and emotional disaster."

NB: I found that this book was significantly cheaper to purchase on Kindle. The downside is I can't lend it to anyone, the upside is that I didn't have to wait for someone coming across to bring me it or pay for shipping.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Shaffer & Annie Barrows
This is a novel written in the form of letters written from one character to the other (this form of writing is called 'epistolary'. Who knew?). It's set just after World War Two and focuses on the impact of the Nazi occupation of the Channel Islands. I really enjoyed it as a light read. Apparently there's a film adaptation, although I haven't seen that.

Old Wives' Tales - Clare Heath-Whyte
Old Wives' Tales is a collection of short biographies of eighteenth century women e.g. Charles and John Wesley's wives. I really appreciated the way that the author didn't present these women as super-spiritual, flawless heroines but was realistic about their characters.

The Optician of Lampedusa - Emma Jane Kirby
This is a fictional telling of a true story, the 2013 Lampedusa boat tragedy where a boat carrying over 500 people sank. Only 155 people survived; only 5 out of 80 women on the boat survived and no children under the age of 12 survived. As might be expected, this book is harrowing but it is also brilliant, written from the perspective of an 'ordinary' Italian who was on the fishing boat that happened to be first on the scene of the capsized boat. I really recommend it.

Every Man in This Village is a Liar - Megan Stack
Megan Stack is a journalist who covered several different Middle Eastern countries after 9/11 and this is her account of her experiences. It's a sad book, as most books that cover the Middle East are. But this type of book is also a necessary book. I'm very conscious that I live such a sheltered, privileged life in contrast to most of the world's population so I try and make sure that I read some books that help me know a little bit more about what life is like for most of the world.

Wonder - R J Palacio
This is a children's book, according to Amazon recommended for children ages 8-12 years so it was kind of an accident that I read it. But I actually really enjoyed it (the sign of a good children's book is when adults and children enjoy reading it, right?). It's about a boy with a severe facial difference who starts school for the first time aged 10/11 years and just wants to be accepted as an ordinary boy. I'm going to add it to my list of books to read to J when he's a bit older.

Settling in

One month ago we arrived in our new city. On one hand it feels like we've been here ages, on the other hand we feel like we've just arrived.

It feels like we've managed to find some semblance of routine and normality fairly quickly. I do Turkish study first thing in a morning while L gets the boys up, fed, dressed etc. Then I look after the boys during the day while L does Turkish study, computer programming, job researching and hunting.

We are enjoying having a choice of parks within a 1 - 10 minute walking radius - all with grass and trees next to them! We're meeting neighbours as well - news of our moving-in has obviously spread through the building as every neighbour we meet seems to already know of us. It's not every day you get a foreign family moving into your building in this part of the world!

We are so glad to be out of Istanbul but at the same time we miss our friends and the community that we had in Istanbul. Moving from one city to another in a country that isn't your home country is an odd thing. We're used to living in a different country from our friends and family in the UK so although there are certainly painful moments saying goodbye to them still, it's a familiar set of emotions. But now we have also gained a whole new set of people to miss, and the routines and life that we shared with them. We knew when we went to Istanbul that we would only be there for a couple of years but we consciously made friends knowing that our time in Istanbul would be temporary. And I'm so grateful to our friends in Istanbul, who knew that we wouldn't be staying long term but still invested in friendships with us.

But we are not pining for life in Istanbul. We love having a bigger flat and not living in an area so dense that it was sometimes claustrophobic. We have been so welcomed by our believing family here and it is a privilege to join with them. Having moved to a much more conservative city, we weren't sure what kind of reception we'd get from our neighbours but everyone so far has been very friendly (thankfully we live in an area that is probably more welcoming and tolerant than other areas).

God is good :-)

The Feast of the Sacrifice - Part 3

This is Part 3 of a short series of blog posts on the Feast of the Sacrifice. You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Kurban Bayramı, the Feast of the Sacrifice or Eid al-Adha, remembers Abraham's almost sacrificing of his son before he is stopped by the Angel of the Lord. The biblical narrative can be found in Genesis 22. The Muslim version differs slightly and is also a lot shorter.

 I don't think I'm alone in finding this account uncomfortable reading. It seems like God tests Abraham by asking him to sacrifice what he holds dearest and when Abraham is literally about to do so, he is stopped. He sees a ram caught in a thicket, which he sacrifices instead. And later, in the book of Hebrews, Abraham is commended for his faith in offering Isaac as a sacrifice.

A quick look at Wikipedia confirms that there have been many different Jewish, Christian, Muslim and modern scholars who have written about this account. I don't want to get into the details of the account here but I do want to use it as an example of what we can do when we come across parts of the Bible that, even after we've looked at the issue from every angle, still don't give us answers that perfectly satisfy us and might still leave us a bit uncomfortable.

What it comes down to is what lens we view the world through. If we view the world and history through our own personal lens of what we think is right and just, there's going to be a lot of unanswered questions. There will also be unanswered questions about our lens; what right do we have to assume that our perspective is accurate? Where our sense of justice and morality originate from?

The better option is to look at accounts such as Abraham's near-sacrifice of Isaac through the lens of the cross. I don't really understand why God tested Abraham in this way but I do know that this event points forward to someone else who willingly went to be sacrificed, the Father's own beloved Son. And when he was nailed to a cross, there was no one to stay the Roman guard's hand, no ram caught in a bush. Looking at the account of Abraham and Isaac through the lens of the cross does not give us any magic answers but it does show us that God has already demonstrated the depth of his love for us, a depth that we cannot fathom or understand. So we can have complete confidence in God even while we don't fully understand his intentions and plans.

It also reminds me that God is not my little pet God, who always acts in the way I would like him to and whose every action I can perfectly understand and rationalise. He is the Almighty God, and his ways are not my ways - thankfully, because my ideas, plans and reasoning is not flawless and are usually mixed up with all kinds of motives. But God is love, he is good, he is sovereign and he works all things for his glory and the good of those who love him. When he sent his Son to this world, he proved beyond all doubt how much he loves his children. So we can trust him enough to leave our unanswered questions with him.

The Feast of the Sacrifice - Part 2

This is Part 2 of 3 about the Feast of the Sacrifice. Click here to read Part 1.


Our second full day here, we walked into the city centre past a place that had been used for sacrificing animals for Kurban Bayramı. To be honest, I probably wouldn't have known what had been done there the previous day were it not for the single van left with (live) animals inside and a few entrail-y bits and dark stains on the pavement. But just those remnants were enough for me to realise that animal sacrifice is a bloody, messy business. As a Westerner, I want to shy away from the blood and gore. When we lived in the UK, I didn't think too much about animal sacrifice and the killing of animals. My meat comes neatly packaged from the supermarket.

There's a temptation to distance ourselves from the blood and sacrifice of the cross too. I mean, we might pay lip service to it but when we sing about being 'washed in the blood' or the 'Lamb who was slain for us' but if we properly think about it, it can all seem a bit gruesome.

But I was reading a book a couple of days later which made me think. The author (Jack Klumpenhower) was talking about the Good News being a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles/Greeks. His point was that we can see similar types of people to the Jews and Greeks today. The Good News was a stumbling block to the Jews because they were trusting in their self-righteousness based on doing the right things (like sacrifices). There are people like the Jews today, who are either uncomfortable with or outright reject the idea that all of our sin was dealt with at the cross, with absolutely no contribution from ourselves whatsoever. But it was what he said about Greeks that got me thinking.

"The Greeks were worldly-wise; they considered themselves smarter than people of backwoods religions, where blood sacrifice ruled the day. The cross violated their enlightened sensibilities... [But to the people who are like Greeks today] the cross is an embarrassment. It's about sin and the wrath of God." (Jack Klumpenhower)

This year, Kurban Bayramı has reminded me that I come from a society that is far removed from blood and sacrifice. There is a temptation to think that we have moved beyond messy blood sacrifices (although the sacrifice of unborn children in a clinical setting is of course permitted), that we're far too "civilised" (ha!) to sacrifice animals in public places in the cities.

But actually our culture is anomalous in world history and we need to be careful that we read the Good News conscious of how much our cultural background has shaped our thoughts and presuppositions. Let's never think we are too wise, too educated, too enlightened for the cross.

So rather than letting our Western worldviews cloud our minds to the realities of blood and sacrifice, let's instead ask that despite our cultural background, we would appreciate the magnitude of a sacrifice once-for-all and that we would truly know the glory of the cross.

The Feast of the Sacrifice - Part 1

This is Part 1 of 3 about the Feast of the Sacrifice.

When we arrived here this summer, it was the second full day of Kurban Bayramı, which in English is the 'Feast of the Sacrifice'. It is also known as Eid el-Adha and is one of the most important religious holidays in Turkey and also a 4-5 day public holiday. As one of the most important events in the Islamic calendar, Kurban Bayramı is a bit like how Christmas is celebrated (rightly or wrongly) in many Western countries.

The holiday commemorates the account in the Qu'ran of İbrahim (Abraham)'s willingness to sacrifice his son and God's provision at the last moment of an animal instead. It parallels the Biblical account of Abraham being prepared to sacrifice Isaac on Mount Moriah and God providing a ram instead.

People often attend special prayers at the mosque on the first day of Kurban Bayramı. Then a family, if they can afford it, will often have a sheep, goat or a cow/bull sacrificed. It was estimated that over 3.65 million animals (including 2.8 million sheep and goats) would be sacrificed this year for Kurban Bayramı. As far as I understand it, the sacrifice used to be done by a butcher or head of the family in the street or the garden but now there are special places designated for the sacrifices, where there should be a mobile slaughterhouse and trained butchers to carry out the sacrifice. And the sacrifice places are usually listed on the Internet.

Some of the meat is used for a feast and family and friends will usually visit each other over the holiday. The tradition is that the meat is divided into three: one third is kept for the family, one third is given to family and friends and the remaining third is given to the poor. Alternatively instead of sacrificing an animal, money is sometimes donated to charity.

Because we arrived on the second full day, we had missed the first day when sacrifices are usually done. But what we did see was outside every butchers shop were big mincing machines on a table on the front, usually with tubs of spices alongside, and a sign saying "sucuk doldurulur". This translates as 'sucuk is made here'. Sucuk is a yummy, spicy kind of sausage found here, a bit like chorizo but obviously not made from pork but usually beef and usually with spices such as garlic, salt, pepper and cumin. The meat is ground several times and mixed with the spices before being put into sausage casings and left to dry. Slices of sucuk are often fried (sometimes with eggs) and eaten as part of a Turkish breakfast or can be grilled on a BBQ, added as a filling to toasties or savoury pastries or added into bean stew. When we're cooking at home, we sometimes make pasta carbonara with sucuk as a bacon substitute (it's all about the Turkish fusion cooking!) but I haven't dared admit that to any Turk yet, they would probably be horrified!

The Feast this year has sparked a few different thoughts related to it. I'll share a couple of those in the blog posts following this.

Diary of a first week (and a bit) back

Day 1

We arrive in our new city mid afternoon. We arrived into Istanbul at midnight last night, got to bed sometime after 1am  and, after a fairly interrupted nights sleep, were back at the airport by 10.30am for our domestic flight. So by the time we (and quite a lot of luggage) have arrived at our friend's flat, where we'll stay until we have a flat to move to, we're all completely exhausted. Our friend welcomes us in, shows us round and chats to us in Turkish while our brains scramble for Turkish words and grammar. After she leaves, we collapse on the sofas for a couple of hours then head out to try and find some dinner. However, we turned up on the second full day of Kurban Bayramı, one of the Eid celebrations, and most places are closed. We find a supermarket to stock up on some basics and also manage to find a place that does Turkish pide (kind of like pizza) for tea. We attempt to put the boys to bed at 8ish but it's soon very clear that with all of us still on British time and late naps, no one is going to sleep. So we go for a family film night instead. 

Day 2

We decide to start investigating the area that we think we want to live in. İt's just outside the main city, next to the big university, and has a population of about 50,000. İt's about five miles from the city centre and connected to the city centre by a tram line. İt's hot but we wander around one neighborhood that we were thinking about, have a picnic in a park and start to get our bearings. Just by looking around, it's obvious that almost everybody lives in big apartment blocks and realistically that's what we're going to end up in. But there are lots of children's parks around- and with grass as well! We're realising that coming back this time has been very different from when we first arrived in Istanbul. Although there have been some similarities (staying in temporary accommodation while we look for a house to rent), it feels very different. Some of the first time admin we obviously don't have to do this time and we have residence permits (although we do have to transfer them to this city), so things like setting up utilities will be a lot more straightforward. Plus we can communicate in Turkish so getting out and doing things by ourselves is not too daunting. Saying that, we're already feeling that this is going to be a very different place from Istanbul. There are a lot less foreigners here and almost everywhere we go we get stares or people giving us a second look.

Day 3

We go back to the neighborhood we've chosen today to start looking at flats. Someone we know shows us a flat, which is a possibility. It has some upsides (we know the landlords) but also some downsides too. We work through all the adverts for flats in the size we want in the neighbourhood we want. There's really not many available. A couple have gone already, one has changed his mind about renting, we can't get through to somebody else. But we find one more to view, which again has upsides and downsides. We head back to our short term accommodation torn about what to do. But then as I log onto the Turkish equivalent of Rightmove again, I spot another flat that has just come up for rent. We phone the estate agent and arrange to view it the following afternoon.

Day 4

We head out to view this last flat. Although the neighbourhood we want to be in is well connected by tram, getting to the city centre for the tram involves either walking a few minutes and waiting for a bus, or a 25 minute walk (at adult speed!). The temperature is in the low 30s every day and the travelling around, change of country and complete lack of routine is starting to show itself in the boys' behaviour.  We really like this flat but decide to sleep on it first and continuing 'thinking' about it.

Day 5

Today we meet with the local gathering of God's people. We're excited to be back in a Turkish gathering. The place where they (now we) meet is undergoing some restorations but there's one room that can still be used. Afterwards everyone stays around and chats for a while. We telephone the estate agent to tell her that we'd like to take the flat we saw yesterday. She calls the landlord, then calls us back with the good news that there's no problem and we can rent it - and then asks if we can get to her office that afternoon. The type of flat in the neighbourhood we want is quite rare, so we don't want to lose out on it. By the time we've we've got to her office, it's tea time for the boys so I reach a new low of giving them grapes and biscuits for their tea. But we sign all the paperwork and put the deposit down - we'll complete the process tomorrow. The landlord lives about an hour's drive away, which means that he signs a scanned copy of the agreement we've signed and sends a photo back to us. We'll have to get the original agreement properly signed within a couple of weeks so that we can transfer our residence permits to this city but we'll sort that problem another day. We take the boys to a cafe for some proper tea and then get them home to bed late - but we've got a flat!

Day 6

This is a waiting day. Because of Kurban Bayramı last week, this is the first day since we've been back in Turkey that the banks are open. So we're waiting for money to arrive into our Turkish bank accounts from our British bank accounts before we can make the rent payment and take the keys to the flat. Other than a quick food shopping trip, I stay home with the boys as they badly need a day of normal routine and nap times. L, on the other hand, has a slightly more stressful time visiting banks etc. before finally meeting the estate agent at the flat and getting the keys. Once he's got the keys, I call the removal company who have all of our things in their depo to arrange moving. I want to arrange it for two days time, but they can't do that day so we settle on three days time. They say they'll be there about 11am.

Day 7

I spend the day at home with the boys. Having failed to get them out of the house first thing in the morning, we have to wait until mid-late afternoon to go to the park, as it's just too hot between 10am and 3pm. L, with the help of the estate agent, goes first to an insurance broker to get earthquake insurance (a requirement for setting up the electricity) then to the electricity, water and natural gas offices to get all of the utilities turned on. All the utilities have to be set up by going in person to a central office in an area. He calls in at the local Population Office too - we need to register there but they tell him that we won't be able to register until we've changed our residence permits. So he also stops by the Immigration Office in the city, who confirm that we can transfer our residence permits and give him the list of requirements. That will be a job for next week once we've sorted the contract.

Day 8

We make it out to a park in the morning! L has to be at the new flat in the afternoon because somebody from the gas company needs to come and turn something on. He heads off just before lunch to start the process of getting our Internet before going on the flat to await the gas man. It's also standard practice here to get the locks changed when you move in, so L gets this done as well. Meanwhile, the boys and I end up spending the rest of the day at the house as I pack up everything back up again and start cleaning the flat. After the best part of three months and staying in thirteen different places in total, while we are very grateful to everyone we've stayed with and have loved seeing so many different people and places in the UK, we are ready to be in our own space. Luckily tomorrow is moving day! And then the removal company call me in early evening and ask if they can do the move now - to which I politely say no, we are nowhere near the new flat and we agreed tomorrow. At 9.30pm I'm texting with the removal company to confirm our address. They tell me they'll turn up at 07.30am but we eventually settle on 09.30am.

Day 9

Moving day! A friend kindly takes us and all of our luggage to the new flat. The removal men arrive on time and within an hour and a half have got everything in. We start unpacking. J is delighted to see his train set and all his toys again, slightly less happy that he has to share all these toys with S. By late evening, we've assembled all the furniture and are well on the way with unpacking. There's still quite a few things more to sort and lots of uncertainty still around residence permits, jobs etc. But 'each day has enough trouble of its own' and we'll worry about those another day. For now, we're just thankful to God for our new flat and for everything we've been able to accomplish in these first few days here.

Things you never knew about

One of my unofficial aims of this blog is to try and give a 'behind-the-scenes' look at what life is like for us. I try and be honest about the fact that mostly my life living in another country is fairly routine and not overly exciting.

And now we've been back in the UK for a couple of months, I thought I'd give you a sneak peek at some of the admin work I've been doing while I've been back. Mostly it has been the fairly mundane but actually rather important things that take up more time than you'd expect them too and don't usually result in much change but that really need to be done (and preferably when the boys are asleep/otherwise occupied).

• I've got the boys registered at a GP surgery and sorted out their vaccinations. I had to spend a couple of hours working out what vaccines J had in the UK and in Turkey, what S has had in Turkey and how the Turkish vaccination schedule compares to the UK one so their UK medical records were as complete as possible and so the practice nurse and I could figure out what jabs the boys needed to have while they are back in the UK.

• I've been writing a magazine article.

• In anticipation of residence permit requirements, L and I both had to get police check certificates issued and then apostilled. I'd never come across the term 'apostille' before moving to Turkey, but it is a little certificate that the Foreign Office will attach to a UK document to certify that it is a genuine UK document. Every UK document that we use in Turkey has to have an apostille.

• When we're back in Turkey, we will start the process of exchanging our driving licences for Turkish licences. That requires a certificate that we have completed high school, which we don't have because we have individual GCSE certificates. We will be able to use our degree certificates instead but before we could get them apostilled to use in Turkey, we had to have a meeting with a notary public to get them certified.

• We made the decision to take back resources ready for when J starts to learn to read, as we might not be back in the UK for a while. So L and I had to figure out what kind of route we want to take to teach J to read, research, choose and buy resources.

• We've spent time working out some tax things and their implications.

• I've been working out what things are priorities to buy and take back to Turkey, taking into account luggage space, excess baggage charges, availability and price of things in Turkey and the exchange rate. 

• I've been learning how to use (at a very basic level) the accounting software that L uses to track all of our expenditure and whether we're on budget. 

That's not an exhaustive list by any means, and then there's all the things L has been doing as well, but hopefully it gives you a small glimpse into some of the things we've been doing, aside from meetings and meeting up with people. We have also had chance to do lots of fun things as well - more on that another day!

Hello again

I'm going to admit, I was totally going to blog about life while we've been back in the UK. I just looked and realised that I last posted nearly  three months ago. I knew it had been a while but three months! But life happened - the busyness of finishing up in Istanbul, and then coming back to the UK. So it's been a rather unplanned hiatus from blogging but actually a much needed one.

I've thought several times over the last couple of months, "oh, I should really write a blog post". And then I've instead ended up talking to family members or friends, playing with my children, doing other work that really needed doing, or reading a book. All of which were really good things to do and I'm glad I did them instead of blogging.

I also realised a couple of weeks into being back in the UK that I didn't have any words to write. There was nothing that came to mind that I wanted to write about. So instead I've been reading lots of books and taking in as much as I can. And then a week or so ago I realised that I wanted to start writing again. 

So here we are. Hello again!

Do not be afraid

Over the last few months I think I've thought more about fear and worry than I ever have before.

I've always known about my tendency to worry, although I'm not quite sure I would have characterised it as fear. I don't think I want to consider myself a fearful person but perhaps the truth is that we're all fearful in one way or another and it's what we do with (and despite) our fears that matters most.

I like to think of it as the flip side of being a planner. Before I had J, I worked as a project manager. I was paid to plan projects out, to envisage all the potential problems that could occur, and then to plan and enact mitigation for them before they could derail the project. Sure there were curveballs and unexpected problems would suddenly crop up, but generally there was a way to solve a problem. And if there wasn't, I could escalate it to my manager and then it was no longer my problem, it was her problem.

But the real world isn't really like project management. I can't control the plan. I know there are certain problems that could emerge but until they occur and we can see exactly what the problem is and what possibilities there are, I can't do anything about them.

And actually, living in a situation where you are regularly thinking about what could happen and even mentally planning different responses is exhausting. It breeds fear and worry. This blog is called 'tales of being all there' from a quote by a man called Jim Elliot. He said, "Whatever you do, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God." But the truth is, when you are thinking about all the things that could stop you staying in the place you are, when you are planning what might need to happen if you have to move, you are not really 'all there'.

Fear and worry weigh us down like we're in standing in a deep, muddy bog, making every movement ten times as difficult as we try and lift our legs forward one slow step at a time. As Gary Thomas comments in one of his books, when we fear (people, failure, potential problems etc.), we "worry about the evil that might happen, and when we're focused on that, we grow blind to the great good that can result." He continues a few pages on, "the fear of what-ifs has stopped cold more good work than has moral failure. Fear doesn't create scandalous headlines, as moral failure does, but it does just as seriously injure God's work on this earth."

A few months ago, L felt the full force of my fear and worry as late one evening a torrent of 'what-ifs' poured out of me. What if we move and we can't get our residence permits renewed so we can live in our new city while L looks for work there? What if L can't find a job? What if he can't get a work permit in time before our residence permits expire? What if we have to leave the country and can't live here any more?

These are all possible scenarios. But that evening, L spoke truth to me. He reminded me that "in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." As a child of God, whatever happens will work out for my good.

And over the next few weeks and months I've kept thinking about fear and worry. By coincidence, it was a subject we looked at in home group one week. L gave a talk at our weekly Sunday meeting and talked about what we should do when we have difficulties, fears and worries. I've talked about it with friends.

And I've thought a lot about what my favourite book has to say about fear.

I have a confession. When I used to hear people taking verses and, without seemingly much thought or study, applying them straight to their own lives, I inwardly winced. Sometimes I still do. One of the classic verses that many people apply straight to their own lives is this: "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." I used to think the people who Instagrammed that verse, quoted it freely and even had it tattooed on themselves needed to work some more on their Word-handling skills. Didn't they know that it was a specific promise given to a specific person at a specific time? You can't just take it straight out of context and apply it to your own life, you have to think about what it meant to Joshua (to whom it was given), what the original hearers were intended to understand, how we can apply it to our lives today.

Now I wince at my own pride and sense of superiority. Yes we do have to examine the context and need to be careful about how we apply the Word to our lives today (and some verses more than others are taken out of context). But the take-home point of the verse above is that we should be strong and courageous because God is with us. Think about it for a second, it's easy to skip over it as a familiar platitude. The Lord is with us. That doesn't mean things will always work out how we want them to or that we will have victories as spectacular as Joshua's. But the phrase 'do not be afraid' appears many times in the Word. And the focus, like Joshua 1:9, is always on God's character.

And God's character does not change. He is just as good, all-powerful, unchanging, trustworthy, compassionate, loving and kind now as he was in Joshua's day. And he always will be. So we can trust in him, that he is active and working in this world and there is nothing that he is not using for the benefit of those who love him.

So last night, when I read some new information about residence permit rules and requirements, when I was tempted to worry and fear for our future here, I shifted my focus away from all the possibilities of what might happen and turned to the Word. And I slept in peace (at least until S woke) because my God who is sovereign over kings and nations, over wars and earthquakes, is also sovereign over bureaucracy and civil servants and job applications.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."

May goings-on

This blog has been a bit neglected recently. Life has been busy! Here's some of what has been going on with us:

For most of our time here, L and I have split our language learning time pretty much 50:50. He's looked after the boys in a morning while I've worked, then we've swapped, then vice versa the next day. That sort of thing. About 8-10 weeks ago we decided that, for several reasons, it was time to change our routine. Now, L is usually free to work from 9-5 each week day, apart from when my language helper is here and sometimes he watches the boys. I fit hours in more flexibly, in part because I have more Turkish-speaking social activities in a day. I often work 8-9am while L looks after J and S, my language helper comes a couple of afternoons a week, I meet with some friends to study our favourite book together each week in Turkish, I work some evenings and I'm currently going to a weekly evening course on worldviews that is in Turkish. So we've been adapting to this new rhythm of life.

And then while we've been adapting to our new routine, everything got thrown out of sync for a month while L did his CELTA English teaching course. The CELTA course is a four week long, well respected and internationally recognised qualification for English teaching - that is also well known for its intensity. L finished the course last Friday and got his provisional result back yesterday, he passed with a Pass B grade, which is like passing with merit.

In addition, during that same month, L also gave a talk at one of our Sunday gatherings. He'd prepared it and had it checked earlier, but he still had to go over it multiple times before giving it. Nevertheless he did really well (at both giving the talk and with his course) and seems to have taken really naturally to English teaching. I, on the other hand, have learned from L's course that I never want to formally teach English as a foreign language!

And in amongst all of that, J has started dropping his daily nap and S has been learning to walk. We've been starting to make preparations and pack some boxes ready for emptying our flat and putting all of our belongings in storage (just over 3 weeks until the removal company comes!) and also making plans for when we're back in the UK.

However, if you asked J what's been going on he would probably give you different answers. He'd tell you that the other day he went to the park at the Zorlu shopping centre and played in the sand with his friends' diggers and dumper trucks. That when my language helper comes she's been reading books in Turkish about Thomas the Tank Engine to him, and sometimes he's even allowed to watch Thomas the Tank Engine in Turkish. He'd tell you that he saw diggers and two steamrollers on the way to the park last week and that the greengrocer that we pass on the way home from the park gave him two cherries this morning and that yesterday his friends came to our house to play. And that soon we're going to go to England and stay with Granny and Grandpa and they have a black dog and a garden with a trampoline and we'll eat fish and chips. And after that we'll go and stay with Papa S and Gilly B and go and play on the beach and go in Papa S's boat.

The world must seem simpler when you're not quite three years old!

10 signs of an early summer in Istanbul

Signs of early summer in Istanbul:

1. You leave the house at 9am to go to the park with no jackets for your children but with sunhats and suncream.
2. You leave the house at 9am to go to the park because even with sunhats and suncream, you'll want to be home and out of the direct sun by 11.30am.
3. You start hearing Romani musicians playing the accordian out on the street.
4. You decide it is acceptable to take your baby in the baby carrier or pushchair barefoot.
5. You start refrigerating drinking water at home.
6. Home made ice lollies are an acceptable snack at any time of day.
7. You make the move to sandals as your automatic footwear choice.
8. You still have the window open at 10pm.
9. You start making meal and baking decisions based on how long your oven/gas hobs will need to be on and how much heat they will emit into the house.
10. Your friends with balconies invite you and your kids over for the children to do water play outside together.

Turkish relatives

I've been revising my vocab for Turkish relatives recently. This may sound like something I should have learned already (and I probably should have). The truth is, I'm absolutely fine on immediate relatives - mother, father, grandfather, grandmother, child, brother, sister. Turkish is a little different from English in that there are different words for someone's older brother and younger brother, and the same for sisters. A person's place in their family is really important! 

Where it gets a little more complicated is referring to someone's uncles, aunts, brothers-in-laws, sisters-in-laws (on their side of the family). Whereas in English, a person's parents' siblings and their spouses are all 'uncle' or 'aunt', there is a different word in Turkish for aunt depending on whether she is (a) your father's sister, (b) your mother's sister, (c) your mother's or father's brother's wife. And the same for uncle as well of course. There is also a specific word for your sister-in-law (your brother's wife) and brother-in-law (your sister's husband).

So far so good. Where it gets really complicated though is when it comes to your spouse's family. First of all, some (but not all) of the titles change depending on whether you are the husband or wife. 

The diagrams help to explain it. You might wonder why this is important. Family, relationships, and positions to one another are really important in this culture because you have to show respect to those older or more senior than you. If you are talking about someone who is older or more senior than you to someone else, you'd probably use their first name and title together to convey respect for that person. Title comes after the name - except for doctors, where it is always Doctor [first name]. 

For example, if I was speaking about my aunt (my father's sister) to someone in Turkish who also knew her, I might refer to her as 'Rebecca Hala'. It is also perfectly accepted to call somebody older or more senior than by their 'title' rather than their name, much like we do in English with grandparent titles such as 'Granny' and 'Grandpa'.

A further confusing thing is that when talking to/about someone in your spouse's family, you may use the same term as your spouse to show greater respect, depending on the relationship. For example, older siblings should generally be respected by their younger siblings and called Abi (for boys) or Abla (for girls). Actually, some people will never use their older siblings' names when talking to them directly but will always call them Abi or Abla. So L would call his older brother Abi, or 'Dan Abi'. L would call Dan's wife Yenge (to show respect, as his older brother's wife). The technically correct term for me to use for Dan's wife would be Elti. But this doesn't distinguish her as L's older brother's wife - if L had a younger brother who was married, I would use Elti for her as well. So to show greater respect, I (like L) might use Yenge for Dan's wife. 

Confused yet?!

Just to complicate matters further, when talking to or about people who are not related to you but who are more senior/older than you should add Abi or Amca onto their first names (if they are a little older than you) or Amca or Teyze (for people roughly your parents' ages and upwards). Children should always call adults who are not related to them Amca or Teyze, either those words by themselves or added onto an adult's first name.

This has led to at least one slightly amusing scenario, where I was talking to L about a friend and called him 'M.... Abi'. J overheard this and corrected me, "M... Amca!". In J's head, this friend was an Amca no matter who was talking about him! 

It also leads to some interesting combinations of names of couples when we're talking to J about his friends' parents. J has several friends who have one Turkish parent (usually the dad) and one American parent (usually the mum). So it's quite common for J to talk about people such as 'S.... Amca and Aunty K'. 

The good news is that as I have no Turkish relatives, I can usually get by if I can understand (at least roughly) who is meant when someone in speaking in Turkish about their own relatives, and if necessary I can always describe a family member's relationship to me if I can't remember their name  and sometimes it's necessary to clarify who exactly I'm talking about anyway.

Two things for a Tuesday morning

Two slightly random things happened to me today.

The first one was that, while trying to push open the heavy front door to our apartment block (that swings shut by itself) at the same time as get the brake off the pushchair (with J inside) to bump it up the two steps to get the front door, with S strapped to my front in the baby carrier as well, the driver of a car that was going down the street in front of our house stopped his car, got out and ran around to help me get the pushchair inside. What an incredibly kind gesture.

The second was that the nurse from our health centre telephoned me and spoke to me in fast Turkish to tell me about something that had opened near to my house. I'm going to admit, I misheard and thought she was telling me that there was a closer health centre to my house (because in fact there is, and I knew that already). Then she sent me the details of what she was talking about on whatsapp (and the odd thing is that I don't even think its strange anymore that the nurse from a government-operated health centre should whatsapp me) and it was the details of a new kebab shop that has opened very close to our flat. I'm assuming that its a friend or family member who has opened the shop and it was kind of her to think of telling people who may live close by. But still, it was slightly random.

Have you had any random things happen to you today?

No mere mortals

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you may talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and corruption such as you now meet if at all only in a nightmare.

All day long we are in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in light of these overwhelming possibilities it is with awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics.

There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendours."

I was watching a talk last night, and (like all good speakers) the speaker quoted CS Lewis. It was the quote above, which I've heard before, but once again the truth of it struck me.

That idea, that the people with whom we interact with each day are human beings and so have inherent worth, who will not die and cease to be but will live forever in either hell or heaven, gives new meaning and significance to our most mundane tasks.

Today I was especially thinking of the responsibility and significance of my interactions with my children. It's so easy to go about the activities of the day - the dressing, feeding, talking, hugging, nappy-changing, singing, disciplining, reading, playing, bathing - as a list of things to get done, until you put them to bed, hear their rhythmic breathing as they sleep and congratulate yourself on making it through another day, hopefully without too many tears shed from either them or you.

But these children that have been entrusted to me are no mere mortals. Each day, every day, I am in some way helping my children to their eternal destination. My children are immortal.

I thought about this idea this morning when my cup of tea got cold as I built J a fairly intricate train track, carefully positioned around the edge of our dining table so J can reach it but S isn't able to destroy it. I reminded myself of it when we went out to run some errands and I tried (not always successfully) to be patient with J as he stopped and bent to look down in every single puddle we passed (which was quite a few). I didn't think about it at the time, but I did later, when I was focusing on helping Joel to help me to mop the boys' bedroom floor and I suddenly realised S was sticking his hands in the mop bucket water. I definitely thought about it when S had such a nappy explosion that it resulted in a mid-afternoon bath.

We all know in theory that everything we do has significance, it all matters because people matter and have such worth and value. It's just easy to forget that in amongst the laundry and wondering what you are going to make for tea tonight because you have literally no ideas left and no inclination to wrangle children out of the door to go to the supermarket.

But our children do have eternal worth and significance. They will live forever. So will our spouses. So will that really annoying colleague and that friend who sometimes drives you up the wall. And that check out operator who you know is the slowest and inwardly sigh when you find yourself in their queue. And that person who walks down the street right in the middle of the pavement, oblivious to the fact that you are running late and that if they just walked on one side there would be plenty of space for you to get past with the pushchair but no they are going to walk down the centre as if following an invisible line.

No ordinary people, no mere mortals, but immortals who we interact with all day long. What a challenging thought.

Three months today

Three months today we'll be getting on a plane and heading back to the UK for a couple of months. 

Three months today we'll be saying goodbye to Istanbul as home - we'll be putting our furniture and possessions in storage and when we come back we will go immediately to a new city to live.

Three months today we'll be on our way back to see family and friends. J and S will get to spend time with grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins (most of whom haven't met S).

Three months today we'll have said goodbye to our friends here, who have been like family in many ways. J will have said goodbye to his gang of friends who all live very close to us and who he sees multiple times a week. 

Three months today we'll depart from our host country and arrive in our passport country. We're excited about spending time in the countryside and by the sea, in L's and my 'home country'. For J and S, they'll leave the only place they know of as home. 

Three months today we get to go back to the UK and eat fish and chips, sausage sandwiches and Indian takeaway. But we won't be able to buy açma or poğaca or take advantage of the summer peaches, melons and tomatoes that are produced here. 

We have a quarter of a year left in Istanbul and we want to make the most of that time and use our last few months well. At the same time, the changes that are coming are starting to loom in our minds (or mine at least). The emotions surrounding our leaving Istanbul, going back to the UK for a couple of months then moving to a new city are already a jumble, and that's inevitable I think. This is the reality of living in another country. There are going to be a mixture of emotions and that's okay. We can be sad about leaving the city, home and friends where we've lived for the last couple of years at the same time as looking forward to our time in the UK and our move to a different city. 

If you've ever seen it, these emotions are summed up perfectly in the Pixar film Inside Out. The film features five characters, each a different emotion, who live inside the mind of a girl called Riley and the film follows what happens as Riley moves across the country. It's going to be required viewing for my Third Culture Kid boys when they're a little older. I won't spoil the film - because if you haven't watched it, I really recommend it. But one of the reasons I loved the film was because it showed that happiness and sadness are not opposites of each other. Each has an important role to play. And so we're going to embrace all the emotions of the next few months.

And if all our emotions get the better of us at any point, there is always going to be a relevant quote from Inside Out:

"Crying helps me slow down and obsess over the weight of life's problems."

"This is crazy, this is crazy... No, Joy, be positive... I am POSITIVE this is crazy!"

"Oh no! These Facts and Opinions look so similar!... Don't worry about it. Happens all the time."

"On a scale of one to ten, I give this day an "F"."

"Oh, we're in a sadness spiral!"

Firm and secure

I read these words a couple of days ago and they jumped out at me from the passage:

"indeed, the world is established, firm and secure, 
Your throne was established long ago; you are from all eternity"

The world is established, firm and secure? I don't know about you, but my world does not seem very firm or secure. On a personal and family level, we're anticipating some major changes this year and there's a lot of uncertainty about how things will work out. And whichever country you live in, the world rarely seems firm or secure.

We also live in a country where the ground does not even seem firm or secure. I never really thought about what a privilege it was to live in a country where there is no imminent threat of a large scale natural disaster until I moved here. The North Anatolian Fault Line (NAFL) runs across the top of Turkey (and there's an East Anatolian Fault line running down the eastern edge of Turkey as well), making Turkey a 'seismically active area'. In other words, relatively speaking, there are a lot of earthquakes here. The NAFL is about 20km from Istanbul and a large magnitude earthquake is predicted to impact Istanbul in the coming years, although no one seems ready or able to define what is meant by the "coming years".

Some days I walk down narrow streets and look up at the tall, densely packed buildings around us and wonder where on earth we go if the ground starts shaking. I hope that we're not on a bridge if an earthquake comes. I hope that if an earthquake comes, we're all together as a family. I wonder what construction methods were used in building our flat, whether its relative age makes it more or less secure. Our earthquake grab bag sits easily accessible.

But this world that seems so fragile is established, firm and secure. And what makes it firm and secure? The answer is set out in the preceding verse (not quoted here) but the words that immediately follow hammer this truth home. The One who brought the universe into being, who is sovereign over all things, sits on his throne. And that throne was established long ago, because he has no beginning.

That is the only reason why this world is firm and secure. There will be no earthquake here without his permission, that is not under his control. There is nothing that will happen to us here that will not work out for our ultimate good. So we step out, we walk and run and jump on this volatile ground with complete confidence, that the eternal One is our refuge, that under his wings we find safety and shelter.

Çamlica Hill

On the other side of the Bosphorus is Çamlica Hill. To be precise, there are two Çamlica hills - Big Çamlica Hill and Little Çamlica Hill. The big hill is about 268m above sea level and looks out onto part of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn. It's also one of the highest places in Istanbul and was on our list of places to visit here, so we headed there last Saturday morning.

Getting there was easier than we expected (a metro one stop then a short walk to a bus stop and a bus over the Bosphorus) and we enjoyed a quiet walk up the hill. When we reached the top, we were a little puzzled why it seemed so busy (at 10.30 in the morning, which is early for Istanbul on a Saturday!) when the path had been so quiet until we realised there was a big car park on the other side of the top of the hill and the municipal-run cafes at the top of the hill are obvious a favourite breakfast spot. So much so that the cafes were full, though there was plenty of space to sit outside on a rather windswept bench with a cup of tea and admire the view.

And despite the good vantage point and being able a lot more of Istanbul than can usually be seen, I realised actually how little, even of the European side, can be seen. There's so much more that spreads out inland that just fades into grey.

Looking out onto the Bosphorus from the Asian side

Our view from the top of the hill

Panorama view

And just in case you'd forgotten, there's a lot of Istanbul on the Asian side as well!

And we got home in time to get J to bed for a nap and 5 minutes before a thunderstorm - definitely a successful trip!

The Blue Mosque

A couple of weeks ago some friends from the UK visited us for a weekend. Having them (a father and son from a family we know well) come to see us was a real joy. So much so that J has asked almost every day since they left (and usually multiple times a day) if he can go on an aeroplane to visit his friend.

Another great effect of their coming was that it was a motivation to visit the Blue Mosque - officially the Sultan Ahmed Mosque or Sultan Ahmet Mosque, it's one of the most famous sights in Istanbul and one we hadn't actually visited yet.

The Blue Mosque was constructed in the early 1600s and gets its name from the thousands (estimated at 20,000)  hand painted blue tiles on the inside walls. It is the only mosque with six minarets in Turkey (apparently).

It is also still a 'working' mosque - Muslims have five set daily prayer times and the mosque closes to tourists for the prayer times that are within the normal opening hours, so we had to time our visit carefully.

Another Istanbul landmark ticked off - our time to see them is rapidly diminishing!

A Turkish wedding reception

We attended our first Turkish wedding reception yesterday. We've attended weddings here before, but they've been more international in flavour. Yesterday's bride and groom actually got married in America a couple of weeks ago (she's American) but they had a Turkish wedding reception as well.

We had fun and it was fascinating from a cultural point of view. I'm fairly sure that, just as you can't necessarily draw accurate conclusions about British wedding traditions just from attending one wedding, in this Turkish wedding reception there would have been elements that were traditional to the Istanbul culture we live in, elements more traditional to Turkish culture as a whole, elements traditional to the particular communities they are part of, and elements that were not as traditional at all. So this should not be read as an information-guide on Turkish weddings, but rather an experience of just one wedding reception.

The reception started early - 6pm - mainly due to the fact that there were lots of close family members with young children coming. It was scheduled to finish at 11, we made it until 9pm with our boys then quietly slipped out (having already outlasted some of our friends who were there with young children!). It was in a large hotel (a 10 minute walk from us - hurray!) and there were probably about 160 guests. Most people arrived between 6.00 and 6.30pm, the room was full of large circular tables and we had been assigned to particular tables. A starter meze plate had already been laid out for everyone and waiters came around taking drinks orders. Both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks were available.

Meze plate: from the top, a soft white cheese; a spicy red paste called ezme; a Stilton-like cheese; smoked salmon; a more matured cheese called eski kaşar; a yoghurt dip; tuna dip; sarma; roasted aubergine; lemon. And in the middle, hummus. And of course, bread on a side plate.

After the first course was cleared away, the lights were turned off so that the only light came from the candles on the table and at the climax of some incredibly dramatic music, in walked the bride and groom. The groom was wearing black tie and the bride a white wedding dress. In most Turkish weddings, the closer a guest is related to the bride or groom, the more formal and fancier clothes they can wear. So a bride or groom's immediate family of siblings, siblings' spouses, parents may wear full length (white tie) formal dresses or black tie but most other women would refrain from wearing very formal and fancy full length dresses and either go for a slightly shorter dress or a simpler dress. Most of the women there actually wore very dark colours or black - it is completely acceptable and normal to wear black to a wedding here.

While the second (starter) course was being eaten, the bride and groom went round every table and had their photo taken with every couple or person on every table. At the same time, the bride was carrying a white bag and when a couple had their photo taken with the bride and groom, usually a card with money inside was slipped into the bride's bag. Presents could also be given. This is one of the elements that definitely changes between weddings as at other weddings sometimes gold coins and gold jewellery is given or money pinned onto the bride's dress.

Between the second course and the third (main) course, the music switched to live Turkish band, which included the saz, a traditional Turkish instrument that looks a little bit like a guitar. And once the Turkish music started, the dancing started! There were at least as many men on the dance floor if not more (and they didn't have to be dragged there!). Everyone formed a circle shape that didn't join up, linked hands loosely and the person at each end waved a scarf in their free hand. You can't see it in the video below but the dancers were all following the same simple foot pattern.

There are traditional Turkish dances done at weddings that only the men do, but when the dancers took a break we headed home. Our boys were doing incredibly well and J had to be dragged away as he wanted to stay, but S was super tired and it was just too loud for him to sleep. So we missed some of the other dancing and the cutting of the cake but we still had a great time!

Grocery shopping and yoghurt

I was thinking the other day that if I wanted to give an accurate glimpse of life in Turkey on this blog, I should at some point write a bit more about Turkish food and the typical food that can be found here. I have to admit, this was partly inspired by a friend visiting Istanbul and realising that I had to rein myself in from giving her far too many suggestions of food to try.

I was pondering this the other day whilst doing my online food shopping order at the same time (because when I discovered online food shopping in Istanbul, it was a gamechanger. While we still go to the supermarket or greengrocer to buy nearly all of our fresh food, with no car, two small children and a flat that is not on the ground floor, having someone deliver the heavy and bulky items to your doorstep is so worth it. Although I'm pretty sure they've got my name on a list somewhere after my last order, which weighed about 20kg...).

Anyway, I was thinking "oh, maybe I'll mention yoghurt and how Turks love eating yoghurt alongside their main course and how crazy it is that I even found myself contemplating buying the 2.5kg carton of natural Turkish yoghurt rather than the 1.5kg carton but decided in the end to stick to 1.5kg."

Then my online order arrived and I realised that I'd made a mistake and ordered 2 lots of 1.5kg yoghurt cartons! So now I'm racking my brain trying to work out how we are going to use up 3kg of yoghurt. I made this cake yesterday, I've got my eye on this muffin recipe (although no blueberries here unfortunately), we'll have curry soon so we can have yoghurt alongside it, L's been dolloping it on his muesli, I'm planning on making some granola for a yoghurt/granola/fruit breakfast combo, we'll be having it for dessert with fruit and freezing it as home made "ice cream" for J.

Moral of the tale: always check your quantities while shopping online!

As an aside, did you know that the Turkish word for yoghurt is yoğurt and the the English word 'yoghurt' (or 'yogurt' if you're American!) derives from the Turkish word? The funny looking ğ in the middle is a slightly strange letter that doesn't really have a sound of its own but affects the letters around it. It always follows a vowel, is never found at the start of a word and usually lengthens the sound of the vowel immediately before it.