Wow, what a week I had! Tomorrow I will start blogging the “good” of it. A week spent in the lovely town of Kaş, on the Turkish Mediterranean. It was awesome! We rented a lovely little apartment on the peninsula, right at the sea. We met a lot of interesting and great people. And we spent the week going on fantastic adventures with Xanthos Travel.
But, the week started out ugly. We were about three hours into the journey from Ankara when I got a message that a friend had passed away. Fulya was part of the English conversation group that “adopted” me early on. She was my Abla. Always kind. Never a negative word to say. Down-to-earth and yet, worldly. A real lady. Her photo hangs on my refrigerator next to one of all the girls. She is greatly missed.
We enjoyed the drive back to Ankara, stopping along the way. We ate corn and drank tea with goats! We bought fruits, vegetables, and capers from a roadside stand. We stopped in Afyon to buy Kaymak Şekeri. I almost always do the inter-city driving once it is dark and this time was no different. As the Sunday night summer traffic got a little more crazy, I remember my husband even thanking me for driving so safely. When we got home, the first thing we realized was a traffic citation was waiting. (Yes, I drive safely, but have issues with red lights.) And then it turned bad.
Our home had been burglarized. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Our television was gone. Brand new watches, gone. Bottles of wine and liquor. Most of my jewelry was gone.
The worst of it was not a feeling of violation, as one might expect. I’m getting quite used to being violated in Turkey. This is, in fact, the third time for me! The worst is the loss of those things that can’t be replaced. The gold and pearl earrings from India – the ones my sister gave me because I admired them on her so much – one of the few things I had from her, the sister who died last December.
The emerald and diamond ring from my other sister. The one she got from her boyfriend when she was 21, 40 some years ago, and gave to me several years back when she married.
The ruby ring my mother gave me in grade school.
The crucifix on a chain from my grandfather, given to me for my First Holy Communion.
The first pieces my husband gave me.
I could go on, but these things are gone. They are good memories now and believe it or not, I had actually photographed most of my things a couple of years ago.
So I have photos and memories, just as I do of Fulya and Eileen. Chin up.
I am so sorry to hear you returned home to this, is this type of crime common in Turkey or is it an example of a world wide big city phenomenon. Still on the bright side you seem to have had a good time in Kas, look forward to reading about it.
Condolences for the loss of your friend
Thanks for the kind words Mick. Fulya will live on in our hearts and memories. As for the crime, I feel like it is worse here than back in Philadelphia. In the big city, there are bars on windows of homes on the ground floor. But here, there are even on homes in tiny villages. And the bastards had to climb up to our first floor (second floor in the U.S.) balcony and carry a TV back down that way!!
. . you have a good attitude about the rotton bits – a lot calmer than I’d be! Keep on trukkin’ Terry 🙂
I don’t know where the calmness comes from. Sometimes, I am my father’s daughter . . . aka, they are lucky I wasn’t here . . . I don’t have a sawed-off double barrel shotgun . . . and something about a thin piano wire and a ball bearing . . .
What goes around, come around in my book. And I hope it comes around in spades for the bast*rds who robbed you.
I’m sure it will. Thanks Jack!
So sorry to hear the double bad news. Wishing you triple good fortune in the next weeks.
Triple good would be the best! Wishing you triple good too!