A Literary Tea Party

I put the kettle on and am anxiously waiting for our first real guest. My friend and her daughter are coming over for five o'clock tea. The bakery down the street will deliver spinach pie, su boregi and mini brownies. We'll tour the apartment, marvel at the view from the balcony, admire the brand new bedroom set that was delivered today and possibly exchange some recipes. She's pregnant with her second so I'm sure there'll be some baby talk as well.

The funny thing is, I met her five years ago when I was five months pregnant with mine. She wanted to launch a baby magazine in Turkey and I was the token Turk at the publishing company where I worked (in New York) who helped coordinate the licensing deal. Based on our shared passion for magazines, our friendship grew stronger over the years, always imagining the next big magazine we were going to launch together. Maybe it'll be about cookies and tea.

Open Invitation

This is an open invitation to all of my friends to freely use our place as their own beach resort & spa as long as we live here. You know who you are and where we live. It's truly unbelievable that my life will revolve around sunbathing, swimming, playdates and sangria parties on the terrace all summer. I won't miss the smelly New York summer for sure (though I still miss my friends), the sweaty commute to work every day, arctic conditions of our office, the grind. No more worrying about whether I'm working long and hard enough in order to make my quota for the month. I will instead worry about prickly heat (which I suffer from as we speak) and strawberry season being over too soon. I will make friends with all the Polish nannies and learn a new language. I will swim laps every day and sculpt a kick ass body by the end of the summer boasting a golden tan on a lean body. I will read, read, read and read some more.

The move went pretty smoothly last Thursday. Between all the chores, including shopping for a bedroom set, a washing machine, beds and lights, we've been able to sneak a few hours at the pool every day. My seventy four boxes arrived yesterday and I already unpacked about fifteen. The kid's happy to have her toys back and I my corkscrew. We finally got the DSL connected yesterday so that I can resume playing Scramble and Word Twist on Facebook. (I didn't say this was Roman Holiday! We do, after all, live in 2008!)

The Countdown

This is it. It's 10:48 pm and we just decided we're going to move tomorrow morning. We called the movers and they can  come at 10:30 in the morning. I don't have a single box or suitcase packed. I feel as if my contractions have started and I still have to finish the nursery, wash the layette and pack my suitcase. Luckily I don't have to do any of that. Frankly, I don't care if everything gets moved in garbage bags. All I know is that I will wake up in my new home on Friday morning and go for a swim.

Homage to Cihangir

In addition to being home to many writers, artists and filmmakers, Cihangir , the neighborhood that's been home to us since we arrived in March, is known for its street cats. So much so that there are poems written about them, canvases filled with their images and even lawsuits filed in their name by neighborhood citizens who wish to protect the four-legged residents from the local authorities. Just like any other Cihangir dweller, we have been feeding several cats in our garden since we arrived. About two weeks ago, one of them had six kittens, who now live in a turned-sideways flower pot in which I was hoping to grow geranium this Spring. Oh well.

In just a few short days, we will move out of this apartment and leave Cihangir behind.

Our apartment sits on a slope overlooking the strait as well as the rooftops of Mimar Sinan University. We have to climb 93 steps from where we park the car to get to our door. Our street is known as Ali Kaptan Sokak and leads one to Cihangir Mosque, just a short walk from where we live now, built in 1559 and named after then Sultan Suleyman's 22 year-old son who was killed in war in Aleppo.

The neighborhood rapidly grew and gained popularity during the 17th century but suffered major fires in 1765 and again in 1874. The many mosques and public bath houses of Cihangir seem to have survived all major disasters of the past five centuries and are now surrounded by 50-120 year old apartment buildings where the rich and famous live alongside of the heirs of the original residents.

And wherever you go in Cihangir, you have to climb. Some residents have to tackle over 200 steps on their way home each day. We had our share of the torture over the last two months, with frequent trips to our favorite neighborhood spots like Mavi Kum Bookstore and Kaktus Cafe, whose owner claims to care for about 110 cats in the neighborhood. We can barely handle the six kittens we have!

The Neverending Move

"Mom, check out the little girl standing next to you!"

The kid thinks she's whispering but in fact even the driver can hear on the crowded city bus. (Crowded is an understatement -- this one reminds me of the enormous jar of pickled cucumbers I see in store windows everywhere in Gokturk.) She's loud but luckily, only in English, so noone's offended.

"I know. I saw her before."

"Where?"

"What do you mean?"

"Where did you see her before?" She's showing signs of a near-meltdown -- is it the midday heat or the side effects of this neverending move to Turkey?

"Nowhere. I meant, I saw her before you told me."

"You mean 'I saw her already!'"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"You should have said 'I saw her already."

"You're right. That's what I should have said."

"If you say 'I saw her before," I will think you saw her before today."

"I understand honey. I should have said 'I saw her already.'"

The frustration in her voice is now routine. If she gets any less sleep than the twelve hours her little body requires, I'm in for it the next day. Unfortunately, with the impending move, we've all had to sacrifice from sleep. So we bicker. Sometimes all day long.

Our relationship has definitely changed in the past two months. I graduated from the fun-loving working mother whose time and love are extremely valuable to the always-there primary caretaker who's almost always responsible for everything that goes wrong in her life. Frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Still, I'm counting the days until summer camp starts!

Meanwhile, I spent twelve hours cleaning the new apartment yesterday and will still have to hire a cleaning lady to make it livable. (I should have kept my day job!)

The crew:

The work:

The piece de resistance (the view from our balcony):

Landing Gear Deployed

It's been a whirlwind week. (Leave it to me to have a whirlwind week the very week I was supposed to take a break from all the craziness that had become my new life.)

I remember a particular midterms week in college when I crash-studied for the exams of the econ classes I barely attended, staying up several nights in a row wired on coffee and NoDoz. At the end of the madness, and after taking the midterms in three-day-old sweatpants, I went to bed with a smile on my face and had the best sleep of my college career. The next morning, I didn't remember a word of what I had read all week and decided to change my major to history. That's one of the reasons I had to take a job in magazines when I graduated, and not in finance.

It's been that kind of a week.

Two full days of looking at apartments in Gokturk (Kemer Country), two school tours, a four-hour job interview at a publishing house, a fancy launch party for LG's new television, a major fight with the dear husband (most probably because I'm getting my period and have become the ultimate bitch), a kid's birthday party, the overworked dh moving offices and leaving for New York for a three-day trip, dinner guests one night and an overnight guest another. Most days, we would leave the house at 8 a.m. and not return until midnight. And finally, after picking up the keys to our new place yesterday, I had one of the best sleeps I've had since I arrived. And this morning, I didn't remember much of the craziness that took place the past week. I'm happily spending my fifth mother's day doing laundry, cooking and tidying up.

Yes, we finally have a home. I signed the contract yesterday and will need this week to get it cleaned, have the locks changed, the electricity and natural gas turned on and the movers arranged. We will hopefully be moved in by next Sunday so I can finally begin my life here. The 74 boxes have arrived and are waiting to be picked up at customs. Luckily the palatial four-bedroom we rented also has a storage unit in the basement so I won't have to unpack all of them at once and can start enjoying my new life right away -- like swimming laps in the Olympic outdoor pool or sweating calories in the fragrant gym.

Here's a quick peek at Kemerlife XXI where we rented a top-floor apartment. Click here.

And here's a link to what we think will be the kid's school. Click here.

And finally, much to my husband's disappointment, where I will NOT be working this summer. Click here or here.

Please Let It Rain!

It's threatening to be a nice day, with the sun peeking out from behind the clouds every fifteen minutes or so. I want it to rain all day instead. With a to do list that reads like a short story, I need to stay in and concentrate to get things done. I know that I said I was just going to let things be but I still have so much to do -- phone calls to make, tidying up to finish, suitcases to unpack (shameful I know!), newspapers to recycle, shirts to iron, dishes to wash and toys to organize. The Virgo in me wants a spotless house and a completed to do list. The sun HAS to stay behind the clouds.

We spent the weekend looking at aparments in Kemer Country, a community that reminds me so much of Battery Park City. It's outside of Istanbul proper, away from the chaos of the city, a designed community devoid of character. However the swimming pools, the fitness centers, the very modern and spacious apartments, the parks and the fresh air completely make up for lack of originality. And yes, there's a Starbucks.

Our favorite so far is Kemerlife, a spa-like dwelling designed by renowned architect Emre Arolat.

...

On the other hand, I don't want you to be fooled by these enthusiastic reports. The indecisiveness is at an all-time high. City or country, private school or public, full-time job or freelance writing, white or whole wheat -- the pressure to choose is still overwhelming. I just have a better attitude about it.

Life in the Small Continued

I'm getting requests that I post more often.

It's not that I don't have time to stop and notice the many things worthy of recording here about our new life in Istanbul. I have plenty of time for it. Every day, lots of times a day, I stop. I sit. Just sit. I think. My head's always filled with words, with conversations. There's plenty to write about. The obscurity of black birds flying into the apartment, neighborhood cats we feed with store-bought cat food, the varying melodies of the Islamic call to prayer (which the kid calls "opera"), and many more observations, realizations, interpretations, some judgements, some allowances.

It's just that what I am living right now can not be understood by many and I'm very much aware of that. After a school interview and a drive through a neighborhood in our consideration set, the hubby had to attend a focus group while Maya and I hung out at a local mini-mall for a couple of hours. When he picked us up three hours later, he admitted that he felt bad for leaving me alone with the kid and thought we'd be bored. The words I used to describe how fulfilling it was to browse a bookstore and sit at a Starbucks to enjoy our purchases and a cup of coffee (with just-for-you warmed milk, mind you!) couldn't adequately decipher what I'm feeling. I feel like I'm living my life in a magical realm. Neither its pains nor its pleasures can be understood by folks consumed with life itself.

These days I'm happy living the life in the small.

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Of course the mad search for an apartment and a school continue. I took a break from my all-consuming desire to make a decision already and decided to let things be for a week. (Yes, only a week!) Karma is now my middle name and it got us connected to a set of wheels yesterday. We're now the proud owners of a cute BMW 116, even if for a short while.