When I returned to Antalya after the summer (I don't know how anyone stays here in the summer when temperatures range from 100 to 120) it was toward the end of Ramazan. During Ramazan Muslims fast from dawn to dusk for an entire month. This doesn't stop people from going to work and otherwise carrying on as usual. The end of Ramazan is celebrated by Seker Bayram (seker means sugar or sweet), for which I joined Nazli and Mahsun in their visits to Nazli's family. We started at Nazli's parents' house. Mahsun kissed his father-in-law's hand and brought it to his forehead, the traditional sign of respect for elders. I didn't see any money change hands, but I know Mahsun was expected to give money to the children who in turn kissed his hand. (He'd been complaining about how much Bayram was going to cost him). Then one of Nazli's sisters brought us lemon cologne and we were served tea and chocolate candy. Then we went to visit Nazli's aunt. Hand kissing, cologne splashing and tea and baklava followed. After that, we went to see one of Nazli's married sisters. Hand kissing of elders, distribution of cologne and baklava ensued. You get the idea. After the third baklava I had to decline as politely as I knew how. I was starting to feel sick.
Speaking of feeling sick, Turkey is now celebrating Kurban Bayram. Kurban means sacrifice, and it's celebrated by slaughtering a sheep, cow or goat on the first day, and eating it for the rest of the week at family gatherings. The nice part of this holiday is that meat from the animal is given to the poor. (During Seker Bayram money is given. A man playing a drum and a little boy rang my bell every evening to collect.) The sickening part of the holiday is the amateur butchering of animals in front of small children.
Why do they do this? Because Kurban Bayram is the Muslim holiday celebrating God's saving Isaac and substituting a ram for Abraham to sacrifice. (Who knew the Old Testament was so prominent in Islam?) The Koran calls for commemoration of this event, which some Muslims take to mean recreating the sacrifice (without the first scene with the son). Many modern Turks don't feel the need for a literal recreation of the event, and celebrate by buying meat and giving it to the poor, or buy taking an animal to a professional butcher for slaughter. The government has tried some regulatory measures regarding the health hazard of rotting carcasses in populated areas, but regulations in Turkey are really just suggestions anyway.
I should point out that I had a lovely day at the beach yesterday and did not have to step over a single carcass to get there. It's not as if everyone in Turkey kills an animal and leaves it on their front lawn. On the other hand, my friends Carol and Bill went to the outskirts of town to distribute meat to the poor. Bill said he saw many a carcass dotting the landscape. Carol had covered her eyes.
I met up with Carol and Bill at the weekly gathering of English teachers at Ayyas, which turned out to be just the three of us. This is their first year here as well, so none of us knew that all the teachers would be gone this week. Since schools are closed, this is when the full-timers do their traveling. It was a nice evening though, and this time I did try the meze buffet. There was a delicious salad with crispy chicken liver and a yoghurt dressing, and some unidentifiable meat I found objectionable and ended up giving to Buddy, the sweet chocolate lab mix who hangs out at Ayyas. I also tried the lamb brains. No, they didn't taste like chicken. More like tofu.
