Turkish delight

Because of the greedy little kid in C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, I've long held a negative opinion of Turkish Delight, plus I always thought it was made out of rose water and tasted like soap.

It turns out that's not true. I now know this because of the largesse of our new Turkish friends, Kayham and Sezgin, visiting professors from central Turkey whom John sponsored for a 2 month stay at OSU.  They brought us a box of coconut Turkish Delight that is to-die-for: a very nice, unlooked-for gift.

Their wives and families came with them for a few weeks, and we had the whole gang over for dinner. Damn, why didn't I know it was still Ramadan!!  That's when Muslims fast until sundown, which occurred a bit late that night. At least I knew not to serve pork or alcohol. They were very relaxed about my breach of knowledge, and only K adhered to the exact moment of sundown, watching for it on the internet, eating his dinner an hour after everybody else.

 In the back yard the kids played for hours with Ed and Reub, who enthusiastically endorsed them. I was flabbergasted because:

1.  Eddy always overwhelms children with his desire to play, and Reuben is always terrified of kids because he sees them as unpredictable.
2.  These particular kids have never had a dog, and come from a culture where canines are generally lowly street creatures, not house pets. Shouldn't they have been freaked out by these big dogs? They were not. Instead they were charmed by Eddy's tennis ball obsession, entranced by Reub's truly weird play routine (some day I'll describe it, or he will). Reub wasn't even slightly uncomfortable with them, and Ed was ecstatic.

 Turks must have a gift-giving tradition. That evening I was presented with a large bouquet of fresh daisies, a white silk shawl, and a cunning little 11-piece Turkish coffee set, plus a bag of the right kind of coffee.

This is Turkish coffee, creating just the right amount of foam as it heats up.

AND a lesson in how to make Turkish coffee. Are you kiddin' me? They had me with the Turkish Delight.

But that's not all. Before coming to the US they asked what to bring: "anything...anything at all" Sezgin said. Music-lover John jokingly said not to worry, that some day he would go to Turkey and get himself an oud.

Tezgin gives John a lesson in Turkish music

Imagine John's shock when he was presented with an oud (on the left), complimenting the saz (right) that he already owns. An embarrassment of gifts, he had seriously only joked about that oud, and look what happened. He swears that he only aided his guests a little, just a small amount here and there, nothing that might deserve such a gift from strangers.

As Sezgin gave John the music lesson this past Sunday, his overturned coffee cup sat on its dish. I had asked for a fortune-telling demonstration, but my cup had been washed already, so he agreed to tell his own fortune.

"There is a hand," he said, "reaching up to accept a lot of money. Maybe I'll become rich!" 

I see the hand. Do you?

"I see a beautiful young girl, with long dark hair..." and you know what, this I could not see at all, at least not then. What I saw was a howler monkey in a tree, which I now have trouble deciphering but I can kind of see the girl. There are lots of things you could read into the designs on this little cup! Sezgin was a good sport to play this game, but now I would love to go have my fortune read in Ankara, for real, after drinking my cup of Turkish coffee.

For now, I'll just have another bite of Turkish Delight with coconut; hold the rose water please.