Amasra: Last Road Trip with the FamFam

Before the wedding, when my parents were in Turkey we took the opportunity to see as many parts of Turkey as possible.  We went to Cappadocia and saw the fairy chimneys.  Then we started on our Black Sea tour.  The first stop was Safranbolu, and the next was Amasra. 

Amasra is a small town on the Black Sea,.  The industry is primarily fishing and tourism.  The trip there is pretty amazing.  You have to drive through the mountains, there are one lane bridges and high passes through the mountains when the road ends six inches from a hundred foot sheet drop with no guardrail.  While the driver has to have their eyes glued to the road the passengers can enjoy the troop.  The drive is incredibly scenic.  From the last mountain you drive up and over there is an amazing view of the town of Amasra.  It is on a protected cove with two small peninsulas shielding it from the main sea.  Amasra is best known for its delicious fish and the “Amasra Salad” 

A mix of lettuce, arugula, green onions, green garlic shoots, dill, radishes, parsley, pickled beets, carrots and some other delicious and spicy additions. 

We were there in the off season so it was nice and quiet.  We were just there to enjoy the sights and the fish.  What was interesting was that people were trying to pick us up.  There were some older women waiting on the streets, and when we parked the car they raced up to us, competing over offering us rooms at their pensions or homes. 

We ended up staying in a hotel right on the water.  The pensions offered by the women who were cruising us were well priced and safe, but not on the water.  We were only there for one night and so we wanted to be able to appreciate the sea.

We had a fantastic time and it was a lovely trip with my parents.  We headed back to Ankara the next day to see some of the local sites and get ready for the Turkish wedding. 

Waxing and Homonyms

On Wednesday I did something I have been wanting to do for a while, yet at the same time dreading it. 

For weeks I have not been shaving so I could participate in the Turkish practice of waxing. 

Turkish women wax their body hair as culturally body hair on women is considered unclean.   They wax *everything*.  I asked my friend about the practice, she said that she waxed everything in the past, even her arms.  She gave me a recommendation for a waxer.  Then she demonstrated the depth of her friendship.  She called, made my appointment (I did not have the necessary Turkish vocabulary,) and then told me she would meet me there to translate what I wanted to the esthetician.  She did say I was on my own for the waxing--which is best for our friendship considering the positions I had to assume.

While it was not butterflies and kittens the waxing was not nearly as painful as I thought it would be.  Actually, it was not really painful at all, though that may be due to the skill of the esthetician.  It was an interesting process, and also interesting to think that a majority of Turkish women do this on a regular basis.  While I was assimilating culturally I also found my first Turkish homonyms

Aci—means spicy.  Aci—also means hurt.  So at first  was confused when she said, “This will be a little bit spicy.” (in Turkish.)  However the word confusion was quickly cleared up when a large chunk of hair was removed. 

Bir az aci= This will hurt a little 

The second homonym is “paket.”  In Turkish “Alo Paket,” means take out.  In a restaurant if you ask for “paket,” it means take home package otherwise known as a “Doggie Bag.”  As it turns out “paket” also means the nether regions.   So when an esthetician asks you if you want a “paket” wax that means both front and back and everything in between.

Both words are good to know.  Beware yabancis, if you ask for paket in the wrong context you may end up getting something you were not expecting. 

Beauty Mishap and Translations

I needed a haircut. Bulent suggested go with his mother to the hairdresser again. I decided against this because :

A) Last time he cut it too short and I did not know how to protest.

B) She doesn’t understand enough English to translate and vice versa I don’t have enough Turkish.

C) He was snooty and I didn’t like the style.

So Bulent and I went to the hairdressers a couple of days ago. He dutifully sat beside me and translated back and forth between me and the hairdresser. He did a great job, no comment was too small, and he was very patient. I came away with a lovely cut and a bored, but gratified man.

Today I realized that my eyebrows were starting to resemble caterpillars marching across my face. As great a job as Bulent did at the hairdressers, I did not want to repeat the translation job while getting my eyebrows waxed. My first mistake.

My second mistake…enthusiasm.

My eyebrows are much thinner now. Thinner than I would like. If someone else had done it, I would have wanted my money back. Also, they are uneven. It looks like a skinny momma caterpillar is marching across my face with a baby caterpillar in tow. I am not particularly thrilled with the situation, but have no one to blame but myself. I was stern when chastising myself for doing a bad job, and reminded myself that I would have to live with the consequences of my actions. I do not think I will do it again. Thankfully Bulent looks at my legs more than my eyebrows, so he will not really notice. But to will haunt me until my eyebrows grow back and that poor baby caterpillar marching across my face grows up.

Technorati Tags: Turkey,Hairdresser,Beauty,Mistake

He Loves Me....Hardcore

And here is the proof:

I know he asked me to marry him. He loves me immensely and wants to spend the rest of his life with me. Also, he gave me a very elegant engagement ring and ever so properly asked my parents first. However, the other day we went makeup shopping for his cousin's wedding. This may sound simple. But it is not.

First off, we went to the biggest mall in town, which was packed with people. This is a man who dislikes going to a grocery store when it is open, because of the people. He would prefer to have dental surgery, without anesthesia. So we braved the mall, found the makeup store, and had my makeup done, for forty minutes. In case you didn't know, I don't speak Turkish. I sat on my chair while the ladies did my makeup, commenting on the color scheme, making suggestions. He sat next to me, translating their comments and suggestions to me, and then my answers to them. We ran into some trouble because he did not know the Turkish words for eye shadow or eyeliner, but it was quickly figured out. And then we came home with a color scheme. And the terms for make up in his native language.