[Diary of an Expat Bride] Hoş geldiniz

Turkish hospitality is legendary, and something every visitor to Turkey is likely to experience firsthand upon entering the country. Being the host, however, is not as easy or as pleasurable as it looks. In the not-so-distant past when telephones were a rare commodity, it was normal for neighbors, friends and family to drop by unannounced. The hostess had to constantly be prepared to serve tea and sweet and savory items. Depending on the region of Turkey, cologne and a special sweet would also be offered immediately upon entering the house. After tea, Turkish coffee would be prepared to the guest’s liking. Even with the advent of the telephone and cell phone, guests dropping by unannounced is still a common occurrence, and the old rules still apply. Since more and more Turkish women have entered the workforce, this can at times be tedious. Especially for new brides, who can expect more visitors than usual. These visits can also be more stressful as members of both families check in to see how the newlyweds are settling in.

Getting used to short-notice visits

I not only work full time but come from a different culture and am not used to not having any notice that someone will visit. While our house is not dirty, it’s not pristine either. Most likely I have arrived home from work too tired to whip up a plate of baklava or roll a pot of stuffed grape leaves. When two of Can’s paternal aunts (hala) called and said they were coming in an hour to visit us one Sunday soon after our wedding, I appreciated the hour heads up but still ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. My first order of business was to place an urgent order with a nearby “Ev Yemekleri” (home cooked food) restaurant. This place is my neighborhood’s saving grace. They make everything a good housewife would make regularly, but the working woman doesn’t have time for. Candan, the owner, and her assistant make a variety of hot and cold dishes that change daily. A neighbor recommended them to me, as she frequently orders from them when she has guests. Like me, her job leaves her little time to prepare these delicious, but time-consuming dishes. I ordered “yaprak sarma dolma” (stuffed grape leaves), “kısır” (bulgur salad), “havuçlu salata” (carrot salad) and borek. I had made chocolate chip cookies the day before, and I had some banana bread in the freezer that I could thaw in an emergency. Within 20 minutes, the food arrived, and I hastily transferred it from the foil containers to my own container to make it seem like I had made it all myself. If you are going to cheat, you might as well do it right!

I cleaned the guest bathroom again and set out several small towels which I arranged in a pattern. Each guest should have their own towel to dry their hands with. I took out a few different sized house slippers for our guests to wear when they entered our house. About 15 minutes before our guests were expected to arrive, I set water to boil in our “çaydanlık,” two teapots stacked on top of each other. The bottom one is filled with water, while the top is about a quarter (depending on how many guests) filled with dry, loose-leaf Turkish tea. After the water boils in the bottom, the boiling water is transferred to the top pot and poured over the tea. The bottom is refilled with water and the top pot is put back on top while the heat is turned low so the tea can slowly steep. According to my friends, this entire process should take 20-30 minutes to ensure the best tasting tea. I put sugared almonds on the table just as the doorbell rang.

Müge Hala and Lale Hala arrived along with their daughters, Can’s cousins. They live on the Asian side of İstanbul, but it might as well be an ocean away with how often we had seen each other over the past four years. Müge Hala I first met at our wedding only weeks before. Can’s parents don’t get along well with them, for reasons I do not yet understand. Both women were nice but extremely formal, quite unlike their daughters who were only slightly older than me. They had brought a cake, as guests rarely arrive empty handed. They all donned the proffered slippers and sat down in our living room. Can made small talk while I went to the kitchen and put a little of everything on a plate for each person. Then I filled six hand painted tea glasses I bought on a recent trip to Beirut. I put sugar cubes in a nice cut glass bowl and small dainty teaspoons in each person’s tea. I first brought out the tray of food, followed by the tea and then linen napkins. I felt like a Turkish Martha Stewart. Can moved small tables nearer to them so they wouldn’t have to balance everything on their knees.

We passed a pleasant couple of hours, although I barely sat down. My seat was closest to the door, so I could immediately fill empty tea glasses. Towards the end, I made coffee for everyone, showing my proficiency at making unsweetened, semi-sweet and sweet at practically the same time. My Turkish friends had taught me well, and I was relieved to have passed Can’s aunts’ initial inspection. They also complimented my cooking, and I ducked my head in embarrassment. Catholic guilt about lying built up, and I hoped God would forgive me for not confessing to them that I hadn’t made much of what I had served them. Can too kept his mouth shut. Since I knew how to make everything that was served, I was able to answer their questions about how they were prepared, which only added to the lies and the guilt I felt.