Bridal Farewell

We think leaving the tradition behind and live as if life came on earth with our existence only, such a unique experience for each. However I always tought that the rituals of old tradition with our own lives touch are always gathering and fun and nice to have activities. I love the cuteness and the eternal nature of them.

I have posted about hena night before here. On O's hena night, there was something more : a moving bridal farewell poem by her mother written right after her last belongings were sent to her new home, remembering the tiny hands of her baby-girl , now the bride-to-be.

"...My dearest baby, my little lamb with hena
While you are starting a new home and a new life
I request our God to help you
May your be full of sunshine, your heart filled with joy.."

A Bridal Farewell is traditionally cited by the bride's mother on hena night wishing her the best in her new home.

Here is a photo of the single ladies of the party in their costumes, just before escorting the bride-to-be to the hena ceremony singing the old traditional hena song.

"Don't let them build homes on high hills
Don't let them send their daughter's away to far countries
I wish that my father would have a horse and ride here to come to me
That my mother would have a boat, sail here and come
That my siblings would know the way and come
Let the birds that fly know it
I missed my mother
I missed both mother and father
I missed my town"

Bridal Bath

Mom and I are invited for the bridal bath of O (you may know from my last year's post where you may have learned about her marriage proposal)

Bridal Baths (Gelin Hamamı) is an old ottoman tradition of the gathering of the ladies of the families of both the bride and the groom in a turkish bath(hamam) to get the bride-to-be ready for their wedding day.

It is a ladies party all wrapped up in colorful peshtamals(traditional thin towels made by hand wowen looms).

Although we were late and missed the dancing in the center of the steamy bath, we could catch up for the rest of fun and the relaxing steamy bath.

My first experience with a turkish bath has been such a inaginable wellness. The hot tab and the cold one runs into a sink without an output and you sit there by the sink and exfoliate, wash your body by pouring water with the metal bowl next to the sink.  

That was a wonderful day with the thankful presence of childhood friends and mom and lots of steam.

and thoughtful presents of handmade soaps, peshtemals and exfoliators.

Being Thomas

Thomas.. Anyone that has visited our home so far would understand why this post is dedicated to him.

Not many people understood why I was living with Thomas.

And one day my cousin, who has just got divorced, opened up to me, saying "you know how I am now, I am exactly like Thomas". Until that day, I didn't hear anyone who was feeling the same way I was for my pink eared wild cat.

..

When I was asked how many pets did I have, I used to answer: "I have a cat.. and there is the cat of my cat(meaning Thomas)". He was so wild that when they moved here in this appartment with me, Thomas did not let me touch him, not even let me get near for at least 8 months . He would hiss.

It was funny, I was feeding him and was yet quite scared of him at nights when I was alone with him. It was a matter of guts to leave the bedroom's door open when I was going to sleep.

I must even confess that there has been times when I was hoping that he would get lost or fall down so that I would get rid of him in a way I wouldn't do anything wrong against him.

Even as a kitten he was fierce (click here to see the video), I was unable to feed him with its kitten bottle, since my hands were scratched so badly, by reflex I wasn't able to hold its tiny body in my hand.

Before we saw him, we heard him. It was the voice of some weeks old kitten. He cried for 2 complete days, constantly. His mother never showed up. He was left to die.

Our siamese cat Chocolate insisted on having the kitten inside, coming and going to the kitchen door to him, begging for something from us. So Thomas was taken in  not only to be cured but was supported because he was the friend of our friend Chocolate, our soulful siamese cat.

Thomas had his name from a swiss journalist I knew, looking exactly like him when he was a litttle kitten. We couldn't warm him up nor heal him despite the efforts of the vet. The thing that saved him has been Chocolate.

So Thom learned everything through Chocolate, and thus he needed so less even nothing from us. So, he was never tamed.

When visitors would come he would get lost. It took him long to show up in my presence even.

In years, he learned to get near. He would meow, restlessly, would yearn for that touch but was terrified by any attempt. 

Thomas has been the perfect picture for me how scary we are when we are scared of nearness and trust and how we would hurt the hands coming to us. How many had I torn till I surrendered in love?

A wise man told me once that trust is a link that has to be started by one taking the risk. So there were times where I took the risk by letting him smell my hands, put my face near to his.

Today Thomas has still his caves at our home, his favorite spots away.

There are mornings where I wake up and find him awake, just some centimeters from my nose, staring at me, probably while I am sleeping.

I love him.

..Missing his glance when I am out. 

Love him even more when in any condition he would run to come to me when he is called or when my chest gets wet from dribbles from his mouth when I cudddle him.

It took long, it took work and unconditional giving for those dribbles of pure trust.

My Home as a Tupperware Catalog

I lately found the winter 2008-2009 catalog at home while organising to get ready for the moving. And I remember the day I received it and how magical it felt to see that it was as if Tupperware published my home that season.  This absolute feeling of completeness is called happiness.

We buy products looking at some photos, commercials, catalogs, envying that life in there, that home. And we want, we want to have these people, be these people, have these products, the decoration in the pictures, that life which are there for the photo shoots ad commercials and soon to be demounted.

What if the life you mounted, your home appears to be what those catalog tried to capture?

What if when you loose it?

What if when you find your self able to mount many lives, many beautiful homes out of yourself?

What if all catalogs vanish?

What if you are robust but not necessarily complete all the time?

This is the way I feel today. And this is what this blog has been the log, the story of this humble achievement.

Pieces of Me

On a very angry morning at men,I condemned my self to the streets of Beyoglu as probably all women with the same condition did in its history.

It was quite early and deserted hours for Istiklal and seing the entry of the new Botero exhibition I was very curious about, I jumped in.

And found pieces of me..

and of even Thomas unexpectedly.

Isn't this what  a piece of art about, to find pieces of you in the pieces of art in a divine peace and to heal.

So I spent more than an hour healing, looking at more than 60 paintings and a documentary about my new, dear Fernando and taking pictures for this post.

The day ended in peace, in the streets with street music,

and a good turkish coffee watching the passangers 

 

A Good Plan, A Good Friend and A Good Dog

How it feels good to get this expected call this morning to go to the beach. Aviko, a good friend, made this great plan last week and -God knows- I loved him even more for this.

So we left, waving the busy city for a calm beach in Sile, the sieastas wrapped in towels, the reading, the beach sandwiches and the sea I was yearning for lately.

Whether it was the christianity that made Aviko and sister Annie, those good hearts that they are or their different history I always asked my self in time. Empathy, generousity, forgiving and being there for others on blue days.  

I woke up from a beautiful nap feeling a touch on my elbow leaning towards my beach bag. Annie said that it was that big street dog that roams around people on the beach, looking probably for my wrapped up remaining sandwich. I first thought it was scary. Aviko raising his head from his book said "it is a nice dog and and a very hungry dog as well". I remarked its bones on his chest.  It was a good looking dog with bright fur.It didn't take long to farewell my sandwich and going near him always with my recent ridiculous cynophobia.

Aviko was right not only it devoured half of my cheese sandwich, he jumped to the next offers of food from others.

It was happy, one could say from his tail. One, could also say that although he was done with all drinking and eating process, it chose to stay with people: it was tamed.

He then did something very remarkable: he sat by a young couple, the way my cats do in my living room like a sphinx. The unique way that told me it once knew home, trust and confort. My heart ached for it. A home was its dream. Sitting there with the piercing of the vaccination given to street animals by the municipality.

These thoughts belated me to jump to my camera, and my heart so vivid in my chest, warm, wet, sticky and from flesh and blood again.

The way the good dog was sitting illusioned and happy.

Oh Belonging..

Asking Someone's Daughter for a New Home

H, between all medical struggles with mum, had a merry decision. And very H'ly, she shared equally all the good times and rainbows as the heavy days we went through : I was insisted in being present in her "daughter-asking" ceremony!

As the very famous characther of my blog, she authorised her blurred photos to be here.

In where we live, the still living tradition involves the man that decides to get married with your daughter, to visit your home with his extended family to ask for  your daughter's hand... "by the order of God and by the agreement of the prophet" the famous cue says.

The ceremony involves : turkish coffee serving. By the bride-to-be. Cups of it.  Loads of it.

I enjoyed being a part of my rainbow girl's family on this very special occasion and taking pictures.

My H, she is uniquly able to be the beautiful rainbow even on the most grey days, with her colours, so unique and rich.