Turkey: afterthoughts

It's been about a month since I returned home, and I still am thinking about Turkey a lot. I keep talking about it, and I'm probably boring all my friends. It's funny to see people's reactions. Some are truly interested, but some are disappointed in me when I fail to reinforce their expectations. They would rather hold to their assumptions rather than listen to anything different. Here are some examples:

The food: most of my friends continue to assume that the food is spicy. But in reality, most of the food is not spicy (except for the Adana Kebabs). And they keep saying that I must be relieved that I'm home so I can eat normal food again, while actually I loved the food and was perfectly happy to eat it. Tasty, healthy, and someone else cooked it three times a day -- what's not to like? (We'll skip the topic of food poisoning for now).

Safety: people keep saying that it must be a relief to be home, so I don't have to worry about security. HELLO - I work in one of the 5 buildings targeted by Al Qaida. I felt a lot safer in Turkey than I do every day at work. Even the roadblocks near the Syrian border were handled easily, and did not seem ominous in any way. And the extreme security involved in the flight home made us feel safe rather than nervous.

The dress: people assume that all the women wear a chador or burka (the long black cape seen in Iran and Kuwait, for example). Actually, it was very very rare to see a woman dressed this way. There was quite a variety of dress. Especially in the Eastern regions, the women dress conservatively, with long skirts, long sleeved shirts, and a headscarf, but usually the faces were shown, and there were various colors-- all together a totally different effect from the head-to-toe blackness of a chador.

The attitudes towards us: Contrary to popular expectation, everyone was friendly. I wore my cross, and did not encounter even one nasty look, much less any kind of harassment. Even when we visited in conservative areas where we were inappropriately dressed (shorts and T shirt), no one gave us a hard time -- although sometimes they quietly giggled.

The trip: Was three weeks too long? Not at all -- actually every minute was filled, and I keep thinking about things I didn't get to do. I didn't manage to get to a hamam (Turkish bath); I didn't try the tripe soup (ok, maybe it's not good, but would be an experience); I didn't find a Christian congregation to talk to or worship with; I didn't make it to the spice market; I didn't buy enough souvenirs; I didn't have a chance to just sit and pray in some of the notable Christian sites.

But everyone is right about one thing. I do prefer our bathrooms.