Things we loved: Turkey post #2

Tea gardens

Every town had at least one. You could sit, half indoors and half out, and sip cup after cup of Turkish tea. Sugar was the only optional addition - no cream, lemon, etc. You stirred the sugar cubes with a tiny metal spoon and watched the men at the tables near you. A lot of farmers, I think. Absolutely no women present. Ever. Except for me. That was a little weird sometimes. I ended up putting on a sweatshirt one day - it was 90 degrees outside.

Minarets

Neither Oliver nor I had ever been to a Muslim country. We weren't quite sure what to expect. I packed a scarf and Oliver made sure to bring socks (Were bare feet in a mosque offensive?) Within an hour of landing in Istanbul we were on the road, off to see the rest of the country. The first thing that struck me as we drove out of the city: minarets. Everywhere. On every hill, sometimes multiple minarets to a mosque. These tall, sleek towers contrasting so beautifully with the domes they were paired with. 

Pinara

Down in Mediterranean Turkey, things could get a little touristy. It took work to escape the hordes of British and German tourists. Sometimes entire towns had to be avoided; no pizza, please. Or apple pie, or knockoff designer bags. When we got off the beaten path though, things got good fast. Pinara, for example. Pinara was a kingdom of ancient Lycia, built up on a mountain with the tombs of its rulers carved into the rock. The ruins of Pinara today are visited by few, on account of them being pretty difficult to get to. We had the place to ourselves. We scrambled over boulders, climbed into empty tombs, and walked until the sun beat us back to the shade of the exit. We could see the snows of Baba Dag in the distance when the clouds around it cleared.  

The Aya Sofia

It has many different names. Aya Sofia, Hagha Sofia, Haghia Sofia, Sancta Sophia. Whatever. I had heard of it, and knew that it was generally thought to be one of the world's most beautiful buildings. I had no idea. Seeing its exterior for the first time, not expecting it... it took my breath away. I can't explain what it was that made it so beautiful, though I suspect there is some sort of mathematical, architectural explanation. And the inside! A perfect symbol of Istanbul, with marks left by different conquerors. Byzantine Christian mosaics, 19th century Muslim caligraphy. At this moment, sitting in my living room and typing up this blog entry... I wish I could somehow get there again. Today. 

Istanbul

I generally prefer small towns and countryside while I travel. You can't go to Turkey and NOT go to Istanbul though, so we made space in our itinerary for a few days in the city. I wish we had made more. I could have spent a week there, maybe two. It's difficult to explain; if you have the chance, please go there and see for yourself. You won't be disappointed. When I close my eyes I can still see it - the hills, each crowned with a mosque. The seagulls. All those cargo ships on the Bosphorus.

Istanbul was the perfect end to our trip. It took every experience from the previous two weeks and magnified them. The best way to illustrate this: every city, town and village we stayed in had a mosque. We heard the calls to prayer several times each day. The calls to prayer never failed to give me a little thrill; I sat perfectly still each time I heard one and listened. In Istanbul, where there are something like 3,000 mosques, the calls to prayer overlapped. From our hotel we could hear a dozen of them, bouncing off each other and echoing against the hill behind us.

Turkey post #1

We were proud of ourselves for taking this trip. I think that's the first thing I have to say. Turkey with a 16 month old? Who does that? Fools. People who don't think things through.

Oliver and I though, we aren't fools. In planning this trip, we thought of ourselves as bold, limitless parents. We could do this, and not only would we have fun but we would accomplish something. Two and a half weeks travelling around Turkey with a toddler. That's an accomplishment.

I will readily admit that some things were hard. The flights, for example :

Nils slept the whole way over, and was awake the whole way back. A sleepless night for Oliver and I one way, most of it spent frozen in place while he slept across our laps. A curious little boy on the way back, determined not to spend any time sitting down.

Sitting anywhere turned out to be difficult. While Oliver and I wanted nothing more than to relax and enjoy a nice dinner :

Nils wanted to run around - pet the stray dogs and cats that were everywhere, dash into the street, touch breakables, etc. Meals were rarely leisurely.

(This little fit was very short lived - he was all smiles the moment he was off Oliver's lap and onto the floor.)

Sometimes we got frustrated, but we reminded ourselves that Nils hadn't asked to come on this vacation. He would probably be happier playing with his toys and buddies back home. We had to be understanding, and try to find ways to make things fun for him.

That turned out to be pretty easy. All he wanted was to run around. So we made sure he had plenty of opportunities for that :

 Up in the hills of Bozcaada, a beautiful island in the Aegean...

 At the ruins of Behramkale, from where you could see Greece...

In downtown Fethiye...

In the main church of Karakoy, a town forcibly abandoned in the 1920s when Greece and Turkey exchanged Greek Muslims for Turkish Christians...

On the boardwalk of Patara Beach...

 In Antalya's main park...

 In the courtyard of Istanbul's Blue Mosque...

In Istanbul's Hippodrome.

Bottom line: we had to be flexible. Flexible not only in our itinerary (i.e. frequent stops to run around in circles), but in how we handled everything. There were many snacks on the go...

Naps on Oliver's shoulder...

And naps in unusual places.

And you know what, it all worked. Oliver and I high fived at the end of the trip. We did it! And it was amazing! Gol, it was amazing. I want to write one more post on the trip, one in which Nils is not the centerpiece. Because Turkey deserves some more of my attention. It was that good.

Turkey

       

We've been back home for two days now. Sort of. My body is here, but the rest of me is still in Turkey, sipping tea and listening to the calls to prayer. More soon.

Clouds at the beach / sun at the park

   
I've said it before: I'm not a beach person. I've been thinking recently that maybe I should change the tense on that statement: I wasn't a beach person. I still hate the heat and the sun, but there's something primally good about sand, wind and water. I have found myself, in recent weeks, plotting beach Saturdays for this summer. We're going on vacation soon, and it will involve some beach time.

I would ask myself "why this change of heart, why this sudden appreciation of sand and wind and blah blah blah..." but the answer is just so obvious:
 

I love helping him discover all these simple, natural things. What a kick to watch him sift sand through his fingers. There is nothing cuter than holding him back from running headlong into the water, then standing back as he points at the waves. "Da!"

This was our "dry run" today - a trip to Coney Island. It was cloudy and cool by the water, so we kept our jackets on and enjoyed having the beach practically to ourselves.

In the afternoon the clouds cleared, and by early evening it was absolutely perfect outside. Sunny and cool. We had leftovers in the fridge and a strong desire to be outside, so we grabbed the necessities for a picnic. Dinner out in Prospect Park, another highly anticipated summer activity! Potato salad, radishes on bread, kefir, and the chance to run around in the grass.

Our crocodile pull toy came along for the fun. And when the crocodile got old, there was a ball to practice throwing. A perfect evening. Made me look forward to summer.

A conversation not too long ago

(Anything pop out at you in this photo?)

O: When we have a second baby, that one can be yours.

A: Huh?

O: Nils will be mine. You can have the other baby.

A: Huh?

O: I get Nils.

A: Okay, I don't even know where to start with that.

O: And when he's 16, we'll bike from Germany to China. All the way across Eurasia.

A: That sounds really cool, but it might be a bit too much for me.

O: You're not invited.

A: Wha??

O: You can stay home with the other one. This will be a trip for Nils and I.

A: Wait a second...

O: And then once he's old enough, he and I will start our robot-making business.

A: Oh good lord, don't rope him into that. What makes you think he'll even want to be an engineer?

O: Please, it's so obvious. You've seen how he plays with his stacking cups and gears.

A: Suuure. Can you see me rolling my eyes?

O: You're just jealous because he's not going to be a librarian.

A: Still rolling my eyes. (Turns away to hide smile)

(Do you notice it now?)

Tomorrow when you wake up

A few weeks ago I had to take Nils to the emergency room. It was the best kind of "emergency" in that it wasn't, really. The pediatrician's office had just closed for the day. It was best, they said, not to wait until morning. No need to panic. Just head on over to the ER.

There was a lot of waiting, and there were some tears (oh Nils, if only you could understand that an underarm thermometer is nothing to be afraid of!). There was a lot of medical jargon and a few reassuring statements that only made me more anxious ("This doesn't mean it's asthma", they said over and over again). Otherwise, it was okay.

We ended up spending a few hours on a rolling bed in a hallway. Nils did his best to sleep, and with nothing else to do I listened in on the conversation at the bed next to ours. A boy of 12 or 13 was talking with a psychologist. Were the kids at school giving you trouble? Yeah. How had you been feeling lately? Okay. The mother piped up: before today he hadn't acted out at school in some time, and he had been doing better at home, too. They talked about adjusting medication. Getting up to stretch my legs I noticed a security guard posted at the boy's bed. I also saw how tired his mother looked. How had he acted  out today, I wondered.

Eventually, Oliver was able to join us. He came bearing bagels - even better. "Did you see the girl two beds down?" he asked. "She has cuts all up and down her arms." She was maybe 14, and she chatted happily with the security guard posted at her bed. "You gotta ignore those girls," he said to her. "You're absolutely beautiful. They're just jealous." Her mother dozed in a chair at the foot of her bed, arms reaching up in her sleep to hold on to her daughter's legs.

We eventually got the okay to go home, and as we were getting everything together the boy approached us. "Would you like this?" he asked. It was an origami crane. Rusty orange. Impressive.

"Wow, you can make these?" I asked. "I could make a balloon when I was younger, but the crane was always too difficult."

"He makes them all the time," his mother said. I could hear the pride in her voice. "He likes to give them to people."

"I'd love it. Thank you."

Tonight, some weeks later, Nils was having a little trouble going down for the night. At one point I held him in his darkened bedroom, his security blanket slung over my shoulder while I stroked his hair. "I love you so much, Beansie," I whispered. "You sleep well. Tomorrow when you wake up we'll have pancakes and go to the park."

Thing #3

 Thing #3: spend a day in Central Park.

We've been to Central Park more times than I can count, but it has always been for some other purpose. Oliver runs races there, we walk through it to get somewhere else, we go to festivals held inside the park. I don't think we've ever gone just to go. 

This past Saturday we were up and out of the house by 6:30. Our mission: bike to Central Park! And get there by 7:30 because Oliver was once again running a race. But after that race: park time.

We didn't have an agenda. Some playgrounds would obviously be involved, but otherwise we just wanted to wander around and enjoy being outside. What a cool, beautiful day. We stumbled upon the West 110 St. playground, one of those built especially for little ones.

Soon after that, we found ourselves in the Arthur Ross Pinetum. The Pinetum is a semi-secluded area of the park, full of giant pine trees. We spread out our Zabar's lunch on a picnic table, and the sound of wind through pine needles made me feel like I was in a campground. We spent a lot of time playing this month's favorite game: where does Nils want to wander and what does he want to touch? 

After that, it was time for a quick run in the sun of the Great Lawn. And then, since Nils was clearly not going to nap in such an exciting place, it was time to go home.

A brief mention of Saturday's hero: Oliver. He biked 10 miles with 30 pounds of baby and car seat on his back, then ran a 10K, then helped Nils enjoy some post-race hot cross buns...

 
Then frolicked with us in the park, then loaded up the bike to head home... and when he saw Nils falling asleep in the bike seat and didn't like the way it looked, he pulled over somewhere near the Intrepid Museum, wrapped Nils in a blanket, and sat motionless for an hour while Nils slept (though to be perfectly honest, Oliver may have napped a bit himself). 

Nils was also a little hero, for being so agreeable on his first long bike ride. Such a great kid.