Reactions, Part 2

And on to my second favorite reaction, to date.  

This weekend  I headed out to a friend's house in another part of town.  (Why is it that interesting things in my life only seem to happen on the weekends....babies, fights, skiing, dieting adventures.  Something to ponder.)  This part of town is quite different from my part of town.  When friends from over here find out that I'm going over there, the response is quite incredulous, as though I could not POSSIBLY have business over THERE.  Mind you, while parts of it are unsafe and there is logical concern that a person not venture into these areas, the parts I find myself wandering around in are not unsafe.  They are, rather, different.  More traditional, more conservative, possibly more religious.

I ventured out to see friends who I had not seen in over five months.  This fact was one that I had not known until I arrived.  They had done the calculations.  Oopsies.  They moved five months ago and this was my first visit to their new house.  Should have gone out at least four months ago.  Blame it on...

Anyway, I ventured out first to their place of work, not knowing exactly how to get to their new house.  They own several businesses, including a tutoring center and a canteen at a school.  Starting at the tutoring center and wandering to the canteen with Big Brother, I found Mom and Dad busy at work.  Of course I sat and of course they offered me tea and of course they wanted to know where on earth I had been for five months and what on earth I had been doing.  So I started explaining.  As both Mom and Sister-in-Law are superb cooks, I included that my doctor recently gave me a diet.  This line of conversation continued as she discussed the fact that I had indeed gained weight in five months.  During this conversation, Dad wanted to know what I would like to eat.  Twice he asked and twice I refused.  And then one of the workers put a piece of cheese toast in my hand.  So I ate it.  What is a girl to do.

Yes, reaction number two: when your daughter's friend is on a strict diet given to her for health reasons by her doctor, you feed her.

(To be fair, normally over dinner she insists that I eat much more than I did on this occasion.  And she served no dessert.)

Reactions, Part 1

I've officially been on a "katı rejim" aka strict diet for a week.  It's been an interesting week.

Turkey is a land of extremes.  I can safely say that I have lived these extremes in the past seven days.  One friend tells me, "good, you've gotten fat."  Yes, that is the actually word she used.  Fat.  If I was to walk up to a friend in the States and tell them they'd gotten fat I'd either get punched, loose a friend or both.  Another friend tells me that it's not necessary.  Another friend tells me that I'm always dieting.  Another looks at me as though my favorite dog or my mother has died.  (I realize that a dog and a mother are significantly different.  It's just that I'm still trying to figure out to what level her mourning on my behalf has gone.)

So far I have two favorites.  Or, as the case may be, non-favorites.

A week or so ago I went up to a neighbors at about 9 pm.  It was one of the girls' birthdays, so of course there was food.  Lots of food.  Pastries galore!  All things that I've been informed that I am no longer permitted to eat.  At all.  Of course, to me this is not new news.  I was informed of this six months ago and proceeded to do whatever came to me as convenient at the moment.  These gals have know this for the past six months.  So when I inform them that, please overlook my fault, but my doctor has said I really and truly cannot eat dough foods/work (yes, this is actually a direct translation and includes many, many fabulous foods), my neighbor tells me that its very shameful, I must eat.  So I insist.  Really, my doctor does not permit it.  Please may I just drink tea.  No, very shameful.  Insisting again, I say that unfortunately, as much as I love all of her cooking, I simply must follow my doctor's orders.  She tells me to eat now and just not eat tomorrow.  So I insist again.  This time I tell them that my doctor is concerned I might later end up diabetic if I continue down my current path.  The response?  You're not diabetic yet so enjoy!  Thankfully the conversation turned away from me and to other things.  I think I actually did not end up even drinking tea.  They might be mad at me, I'm not sure.  I went in to the girl's shop a few days later.  They don't seem mad.  Only time will tell.

Favorite number two to follow....

Dieting and Healthcare Adventures

Six months ago I went to a new endocrinologist.  This was after running around to several doctor's who's response to a hormone deficiency was, "You have a low hormone.  Here's a pill."  No questions as to why, no further tests on the specific hormone.  I don't know that the pill popping phenomenon any different here than, say Canada, England or America.  I probably should have just left that list to America as I have never been to England (although this week I've been asked twice if I'm English) and I've merely driven through and visited Canada more times than I have ever cared to count

Friday Basketball

The colors change, the cheers change, the fans change but basketball is still the same.  From Alaska to Turkey I somehow have found myself back in the stands.

Oh, and we won...

Thankful Things - February

Illness? Since when are we thankful for illness? Well...when you're ill in Turkey there are many things to be thankful for. And really, should we not be thankful in all circumstances?

First, I grew up in Alaska. The independent state. The "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" state. The "girls can fix their own cars" state. (As a side note, I once replaced the exhaust system on my old Subaru wagon with my step-dad. He claims I did most of the work. All I remember is him wrestling with a rusted on bolt.) Yes, we are a proud people. We get sick and still go out to haul firewood.

In Turkey you get sick and immediately receive the sympathy of everyone in your circle of friends. Every circle of friends. Tuesday morning I call a friend to cancel an English lesson and receive the offer of staying at her house for two days so she can take care of me. The past three days two of my friends from my running group have kept tabs on me. Friends may get upset if you cancel a date for other reasons, but if your sick you'd better stay home - there's no anger to be found.

I admit, all of this is a tad on the annoying side when you only have the sniffles, but when you're nursing a wicked sinus infection and don't want to leave your house, it's super!

Second, I normally have a huge dislike for anything found in the drug family. "Run far, far, far away" is my motto. This time I attempted to run far, far away. When after a week I actually found myself with a fever instead of improved health I decided that it was time to take myself to the doctor. So I did. I left my house, hoped in a cab, and headed to the health clinic. No appointment. No waiting (that part was only because it was seriously cold outside and 10 am on a Wednesday morning). Good questions. No payment. Just a list of drugs on a prescription sheet and I'm out the door again to the pharmacy. Meds included, this infection has cost me under 50 TL. And that is without insurance paying a portion. Turks love their medications and they are cheap!















The pile is large, but helpful. I am especially loving my netty pot - not on the list from the doctor, but something my wonderful step-mom brought over from the States a few years back.















Oh, and notice the scribbled words on the Zinnat box? Yup, dosage instructions from the pharmacist. It's a different world here.

Third, I'm reminded again and again that I am not the key figure in my life. Not in my work, not in my play, not in my friendships. It is His work, His play, and these are His friendships. I am the steward. Apparently this steward needs to rest. And so she shall.