Monday, June 23

This morning we left for the village, Eşenler, where we are doing our homestays with a Turkish family. Muammer and Mehmet, the carpet dealers from Konya, are from Eşenler, so Muammer came with us in our rented van to the village. We made it out of our hotel around 10 AM after a discussion with the Prof over breakfast and a trip to the evil eye store. The trip to the village took a few hours, and after dropping our luggage off at the place where Muammer and Mehmet sun-fade their kilims (woven, instead of knotted) carpets, we headed off to picnic with the supplies which our social chairs (Edward and Amanda) had bought for us in Konya.

We drove up the side of this rocky mountain, getting some good views of the village, and stopped at the edge of some sort of crop field, where we set up camp. We had a delicious lunch of bread, cheese, Tutkus (delicious Turkish cookies with a Nutella-like flilling), and SO much fruit. Turkey has this melon which tastes like a honeydew and looks like it on the inside, but the outside looks like this:

the weird melon

the beautiful views that we had at lunch

After lunch, we headed back to the village and Muammer gave us a tour of some orchards.

walking down to the orchard

Emily picking visne, or sour cherries

There, I was surprised to learn that there is more than one type of cherry – this orchard grew three. “Regular” cherries that we have in the States, visne, or sour cherries, and what Muammer described as “man cherries” which are used to aid in the pollination of the other cherry trees.

the "man-cherries"

We also tried some incredibly sour ­erik (sour green plums). These were far sourer than the erik we get in Istanbul, as is evident by the expression on my groupmates’ faces when trying this fruit.

David after trying the sour erik

We left the orchard and returned to the kilim-fading place, where there was some sort of mystic dwelling which I never quite figured out. Even more mystically, they somehow had enough tea and tea glasses for the twelve of us and the fifteen or so villagers who came to welcome us!

I should probably stop here to explain a little more about the village. Like I said, it’s the birthplace of Muammer and Mehmet, the two kilim dealers that are now located in Konya. As I also stated in one of my earlier blog posts, they teach local Konyan women to weave, provide them with the raw materials including loom, and then pay the women directly instead of their male superior. It is this same kilim business which has brought the village running water and electricity – Muammer and Mehmet teach the women of Esenler to weave, which brings the village extra revenue. About ten years ago, they also started the exchange program that we were a part of – for 20 lira a night, you can stay with a Turkish family in their home and receive the best hospitality you will ever encounter. This, of course, includes their delicious meals, with food that is pretty much all grown/made in the village.

After tea with the group of villagers, we all headed off to our respective homes. Edward and Clayton stayed with one family; Kelly, Zoe, and the Profs stayed with another; and Kevin and David each stayed with different families. David heading down the road with his "dad"

We (Yekta, Emily, Amanda, and I) stayed with Hasan (dad), Emine (mom), and Yasimin (daughter). I had spotted Yasimin when we were drinking tea with the villagers because of her beautiful headscarf and very warm and welcoming smile, and I was very excited to see her at the door of my future home for two days!

Yasmin pouring us tea at our home for the next two days

Emine and Hasan

We went inside and got a tour. Their house consisted of one large room that you walked into immediately after entering their house, which included a small sink and mirror and a linoleum place for shoes (in Turkish custom, you never wear shoes inside the house). There was a bathroom (non-Western, or squatty potty, very clean), a shower room, a room for Hasan and Emine, a room for Yasimin, another room, and a kitchen/dining area. After the tour, I turned to Amanda and said, “They have no furniture.” She hadn’t noticed, and in fact, I realized that it had taken me awhile to figure that out too – I can’t peg the reason exactly, but for some reason it did not strike me as I walked in. It’s not that the house was decorated – they barely had anything on the walls, but maybe it was because of the cushions all over the floor. Instead of tables and chairs, they had cushions.

Hasan led us into the room adjoining the entryway room (as you can tell, it is difficult to distinguish rooms from each other because of the lack of furniture – there was no office/study, living room, etc.) and had a feast of peaches, cherries, and apricots. All of the fruit came from their orchards, where we were going to the next day. We also enjoyed great conversation – we were very thankful to have Yekta there who translated for us. One of the most interesting topics of conversation was that Hasan asked about Yekta’s bloodline and ours. Unlike in the Southern tradition of asking who your parents are (obviously, Hasan would have no idea in this case), he asked about our ancestors. That obviously doesn’t mean a whole lot to Americans, who in many cases don’t know much about where exactly they came from – America pretty much cuts it for our country of origin, despite the fact that we (apart from Native American ancestors) all came from somewhere else. It is a pretty interesting comparison to draw, especially in light of Turkey’s very layered history.

After our feast of fruit, they showed us their terrace, where we got some great views of the village (including a little boy herding his cow) and met up with Zoe and Kelly, who were living next door.

Emily climbing up to the terrace with Emine looking on

cattle herding

Zoe helping pick vegetables for dinner

Then it was time for dinner – an absolute feast again! We had cucumbers, tomatoes, okra soup, green beans in tomato sauce, and chicken pilav. Dinner is served in the most traditional sense of a traditional Turkish dinner – we sat on cushions on the floor with the food on a tray in the middle of us. We each got a fork and a spoon for our utensils and a hunk of flatbread for our “plates” and started chowing down at the communal dishes. They also served us Ayran, which is that Turkish yogurt drink. It was homemade in the village along with everything else we ate, but unfortunately, it was absolutely disgusting. I choked it down for politeness’ sake, but it tasted like spoiled buttermilk.

But dessert made up for it – delicious watermelon and honey from Hasan’s bees that he keeps at the orchard.

Another feast later, we sat again and chatted with our family until more villagers showed up, including our boys. Interestingly, the women and men separated into different rooms – I’m not sure if that is just natural gravitation towards the same sex or if it has to do with tradition. After we chatted for a bit, it was time for bed. Hasan, Emine, and Yasimin all slept in the same room so as to give their four guests two separate rooms to sleep in – Turkish hospitality is truly mind-blowing.