sluggish decisions

At the pace of a mighty inch worm, I am beginning to gather the courage to accept that moving on from Istanbul might be good for me. It is a difficult decision for me. I don't want to move. I don't want to start again...yet again. I am tired of starting...
Fortunately The Pirate is much more pro-active than me and has found a suitable carrier case for herself.

She has also offered to help me pack by going through my cupboards and drawers.

Where we might go, when we eventually go, I am not sure. Forse Italia? Like I said I am making this decision at the pace of a slug ( the types of which The Pirate likes to capture and lay on my bed as potential crew mates for our future big voyage.)

Three-Paw of course prefers to observe from a perch ( or more often these days - the middle of my bed.) Obviously any move would have to be made with her consultation and may involve her getting passported.  We will see.

Bir az Turk

Today there is a derby between Beşıktaş  and Fenerbahce. The hardcore supporters of Beşıktaş are known as Çarşı. Kind of like hairy bikers with big hearts... except if you diss their team.  I am not afraid though because thanks to Slaven Bey, I too am a Beşıktaş fan.

Perhaps I am turning a little Turk after all. 

For instance, I now believe the simit to be the best round-shaped invention since the wheel...

although I probably would not mention this around a doughnut.

I also believe in the importance of of bal kaymak as essential breakfast fodder.

Recently I beat a local Emlak ( real estate agent) guy at Tavla (backgammon) too. Now they invite me for tea to have another game. I can see the fear in their eyes though. Beware the Yabunçi laydee - she be the beast of the board!!

And of course Raki....my most chosen of chosenest tipple.

Orwa

Right now I have a flatmate from Syria.  His name is  Orwa. He normally directs short films in Saudi Arabia but he is here to do a media course. In three months he will be stateless because his Syrian passport will expire. He doesn't want to get a new one because this will involve paying money to the Syrian Government that will then be invested in bullets which will  be shot at his people. Luckily he is able to stay in Turkey without a valid passport.
Living with Orwa teaches me  on a daily level to be grateful for what I have. Not because he is pessimistic. In fact he is a very cheerful, kind person who gives me lovely boxes of dates. He is just a  tangible reminder of the horror which is Syria and the normal, gentle people who are caught up in this nightmare.

Orwa also makes fattoush which is my most beloved Syrian food.