I Miss My Mum

I can be in a reflective mood at the best of times, but even more so around New Year's.

Whilst I feel that Christmas is a time for children, New Year's is a time for old friends.

I remember a Hogmanay in Edinburgh with my Ultimate friends and the thing that struck me most was the long friendships they'd had together. When the bell tolled and everyone was hugging and kissing I sensed a feeling of knowing in their expressions - knowing about each other's histories - having been through the good times and the not so good times together - holding their hand and celebrating the good times.

When I saw their expressions it made me feel sad to not have someone there that I'd shared a multitude of experiences with. Amongst the people at that particular Hogmanay the longest relationship I had was less than one year. 

Even when I look at all the relationships in my life, apart from my relatives who I rarely see (although they are great at keeping in contact online), the longest relationship I have is with my "sister". I say sister in quotes because she isn't my sister, but we have such a strong bond that it's an easy way of explaining the relationship. We've known each other since the late 1980's. So that's some 20-odd years approximately. Not so long when you realise it's less than half my age, but on the other hand it's not 2 years either.

However, it pales into comparison with the 45 years my mother would have known me had she still been alive today.

We went through a huge number of phases mum and I. When I was younger I spent most of my time with her - she effectively raised me. Then when I got to the turbulent teens a huge rift appeared between us - most likely due to my parents separating. 

Over the following years we sometimes got closer again and sometimes moved apart again. It was a very emotional roller coaster ride for both of us, especially as we are inherently emotional people.

When I moved overseas we became very close. At many stages of my time in England and Scotland we were emailing each other every day. It was predominantly due to me sharing my travelling experiences and she, like some of my other readers, enjoyed living vicariously through me.

When I returned to New Zealand it was a mixed bag. 

It's funny how with some people I'm best with when I contact them by email, whilst others it's by phone, or in person. I've found that just because I have a great email relationship with someone doesn't mean that I'm great with them face-to-face and vice versa.

In a nutshell the last few years for mum were probably the hardest. She went through a divorce, a period of six months in a care home almost isolated from the world, to a long drawn out period lacking enthusiasm and the ability to fight that she had been so famous for during most of her life. She was an inspiration to others with her battling attitude towards her various illnesses and her hope that tomorrow would be a better day.

Anyway, for me I miss her. I miss being able to share everything with her. She was always ready to receive whatever I sent her way.

That was one of the best things in the latter years we had together. She moved from telling me what to do to simply listening to me. Part of her time had been working as a volunteer telephone helpline worker and I think it was the training she received there that enhanced her ability to be an active listener.

At best I think that most people are poor listeners. Very few are active listeners, let alone good active listeners. It's a very specialised skill.

There's many a time when I see something, hear something, or do something and I think 

I wish mum was here to enjoy this

2013

The new year could be unlucky for some (13), however, for me, I can't remember looking forward to a new year with as much enthusiasm as this one.

2013 holds many opportunities not all of which are risk-free.

Generally I don't make wishes for New Years or if I do it's usually some beauty queen claptrap like "I wish for world peace." This time around I will wish for something equally as unrealistic:

For 2013 I wish for the ability to instantly share

Let's be clear - I'm not wishing for a Twitter account! I couldn't imagine anything more abhorrent. 

Actually ... upon reflection perhaps I should have phrased that as "the ability to record".

Every day there are scenes, events, images, or stories that I want to share with my phantom readers. For example, today I saw a man at a cafe laugh and the way his mouth opened into this enormous laugh seemed impossible, and yet, there it was. The emotion was everywhere in his face and would have made a great photo. Another example is the lovely conversation I had with a cafe worker whilst I was next doors at the furniture repair shop talking with my favourite sokak kedisi (street cat).

So what I wish for is this.

1. A mini camera to be built into my glasses that in a nano second focuses and records an image. It will need to be operated in a symbiotic way so that I can instantly command it to operate. I was thinking along the lines of - if I blink for one whole second it takes a photo.
2. A personal scribe who follows me everywhere and records all the Shakespearian prose that I utter.

As I understand it the first item is already technically possible albeit a tad expensive to manufacture. And of course the second item is surely possible. I simply need to find someone who doesn't have all their faculties working correctly so that they might find this onerous task interesting. It would have to be pro bono naturally.

Is it so much to ask for?

Earthquakes - Be Ready!

The other day I went to a meeting in Istanbul where there was a presentation about earthquake preparedness. We had an expert from Turkey, who travels across the globe assisting in rescue operations, explain to us the "dos and don’ts" which I’d like to share with you.

Don't Panic

First, and most importantly, don't panic.

The 3 Second Rule

When you feel a tremor you have to assume that you are at the epicentre of the earthquake (depremin merkez üssü), and therefore have only 3 seconds to: a) decide what to do, and b) do it.

The presenter explained that, too often, people think that there will be plenty of time and that they can run out of the house/apartment/building – not true!

He showed us some horrifying pictures and videos of buildings that had completely collapsed after 3 seconds. Even very expensive ones fell down just as quickly as cheap ones.

Think like this: look around you and decide what is the safest thing to hide under (see below) and quickly move there and assume the foetal position (see below).

Where to hide?

This is a rough guide with the recommended alternative listed first:

1. Under a doorway
2. Under a table
3. On the floor near a wall or corner of a room
4. The floor

Be aware of things that may fall onto you, for example, a lamp or a bookcase, and avoid these areas if you can.

Where not to go?

The worst two places to go are both places that people frequently go to as they seem the most natural when you want to escape a building: the stairs, and balconies.

These are the WORST places to go because they are the weakest part of a building.

The Foetal Position (cenin pozisyonu)

This is best understood by looking at this example:

NOTE: the most effective way to survive is to lie with your side on the floor. Do NOT squat (çömelmek) on the floor as this is very dangerous for your back.

Babies

If you are carrying a baby go into the foetal position as above with the baby protected by your arms and make sure the babies face is facing AWAY from you. If you don’t do this there is a risk they won’t be able to breath. (Note I couldn't find a clear Turkish translation, so this means that you and your baby and looking in the same direction).

After the Earthquake

First check your body for injuries. Due to the adrenalin pumping through your body during the earthquake you won’t have felt any pain. So thoroughly check yourself first before attempting to do anything.

Important Note for Parents in Turkey

If you have children going to school in Turkey please be aware that teachers do not always give the correct advice to your children. The presenter explained that his team are slowly educating teachers, and that you shouldn't rely on the teachers to properly educate your children.

Further

There was a lot more advice given to us, particularly about phone numbers and having a pack full of useful items. 

You should look up expert advice on the internet, or contact your local agency to get the full picture.

Kurban Bayram

It wasn’t the most auspicious of starts to a day.

Sally had arranged to meet Wayne at a bus stop in the middle of Istanbul. The initial hurdle was the location. Tarlabaşı is a long street that connects touristy Taksim square with the bridge to Eminönü, an equally touristy area. Taksim is the so-called centre of Istanbul. It’s where most public transport services start and finish: Metro, dolmuş (yellow taxi vans), taxis, and buses. It’s also a good starting point if you want to go shopping, window gazing, or tourist spotting along the forever crowded Istiklal street. Eminönü, by contrast, houses the famous Grand Bazaar.

The difficulty for them wasn’t finding Tarlabaşı, but finding the correct bus stop along this major through route.

Wayne was pretty sure he had the right one pictured in his mind. They’d agreed to meet by the bus stop that was closest to Pera Museum. Luckily the bus stops were far apart so there weren’t so many to choose from near Pera. It turned out that he did in fact have the right bus stop. So in the end it wasn’t the location that made for the auspicious start to their day.

The second issue, as is often the case in Istanbul, was timing. Generally there is little chance of two people arriving at an agreed meeting point at an agreed time. Distances that usually take 20 minutes can, on some days, take 2 hours. When the local municipality decides, for example, that major road works are required, they close down one or two lanes to traffic and this causes the normally slow traffic flow to grind to a halt.

On top of this the impatient drivers tend to ignore possible gridlock situations and simply plough on ahead at intersections and thus end up in the middle of them at a stand still loudly honking their horns asking those in front to move along.

The reason for their outing was that it was Kurban Bayram. Turkey has two main bayram (religious celebrations) during the year: şeker and kurban bayram. During Kurban Bayram Muslim families sacrifice an animal “to honour the willingness of the prophet Abraham to sacrifice his first-born son Ishmael”¹.

Whilst some do this themselves the majority prefer to leave it in the hands of experts. Historically this meant that streets like Tarlabaşı would be covered in animal blood on the next working day. In 2010 the government created a law preventing this, stating that slaughtering could only take place in designated areas. The general interpretation of this law by the people is: you can kill animals anywhere you like provided you don’t get caught. Hence what happens in practice is some people gather in local neighbourhood car parks early on a Saturday morning to perform or observe the ceremony. A mechanical hoist is brought in together with a reasonable head of cattle. The local butchers are then the masters of ceremonies.

Wayne, deciding that Sally would be late, headed off in the direction of the junction that he and Sally would need to take off Tarlabaşı to reach Kasımpaşa. They had heard there was a chance of finding a slaughtering taking place in Kasımpaşa as this was a traditional area for kurban bayram. Whilst he was walking he sent a text message to Sally.

“I’m walking down Tarlabaşı” were his exact words.

Sally, being an accommodating woman, quietly accepted this when she’d rather have asked why wasn’t he waiting at the meeting point. So she too started walking down the street.

Six rapid text messages later and the fact that they hadn’t met up made them realise they weren’t walking down the same street. Following the text messages an argument ensued about how Wayne’s initial message was or wasn’t clear, depending on whose perspective you took. Sally had walked down a steep hill from the junction and was already in Kasımpaşa.

The process of sending text messages already had them steaming under their collars. When Wayne said to Sally that they should walk back to the bus stop she ‘lost her toys’.

“I’m not walking back up that steep hill!” she screamed down the phone at him. “Why weren’t you at the bus stop at 9 like we agreed?” she asked.

This, in turn, had Wayne fuming because he had been at the bus stop at 9am.

“I was there! Where were you?!” he retorted.

“I was there!” she barked back.

Further discussion ensued and the final straw was when Wayne, in a heated moment, called Sally “Sarah” by mistake. It was an innocent mistake – he was always confusing them with each other. Upon hearing her name Sally promptly cancelled the call on her mobile.

“Ugh!” Wayne said to himself. He of course realised his error. Furthermore he understood how she felt. Killing the call seemed a bit abrupt, but he wasn’t in a position to argue the point. He also realised he would now need to ‘eat humble pie’. Even though he knew he should call and apologise, he just couldn’t bring himself round to admitting he’d made a mistake.

Instead he continued walking back to the bus stop wondering what he would do with his now empty day of the day. He briefly considered walking into Kasımpaşa alone, but the prospect of spending the day by himself wasn’t appealing. Thus he decided to head back home to his warm bed and try to forget all about it.

In the back of his mind was the slim chance that he might spot her. He had had a feeling that they were quite close to each other when they were talking on the phone. During the conversation they had discovered that they where at the exact same place at 9am except that they were on opposite sides of Tarlabaşı’s wide street and had simply not seen each other.

As Wayne looked up the street he noticed someone he thought he recognised as Sally sitting down at the bus stop. His hopes were raised that the day wasn’t going to be a total disaster.

When he reached the bus stop he found a sad and dejected Sally.

“Hey” he posed tentatively.

“Mm” was the response he got in return.

Whilst he still wanting to defend himself and suggest it was a bit childish to hang up the phone, luckily for him he realised this wasn’t going to take him anywhere he wanted to go.

“Sorry” he forced himself to say. He continued to apologise. It wasn’t looking good. His optimism that the day could be recovered was rapidly diminishing. He wondered what he could do to rectify his misdemeanour.

In the end frustration got the better of him.

“Are you going to stay like this or can we put the past behind us?” he asked. He’d said this before he considered the responses he might get so immediately after uttering it he was immensely nervous.

For the second time that day he was lucky. Sally took his question well and realising that she too wanted to turn things around changed her tone of voice and was more welcoming.

They finally managed to patch things up and headed down the road to Kasımpaşa together.

Once they reached the outskirts of Kasımpaşa they realised they didn’t have any idea where in Kasımpaşa they should go. Neither of their Turkish was good enough to ask a local so they choose a random direction and looked about for a suitable sign or clue as to where there might be some people conducting the bayram ceremony.

Wayne was getting a little edgy as he didn’t want to spend the next two hours randomly walking around Istanbul with no result for their efforts.

Just as he was about to ask Sally for the fourth time if she minded walking around without knowing where to go, he spotted two men out of the corner of his eye. Later he couldn’t say what drew his attention to them other than they seemed to be walking with a purpose.

“Hey. Shall we follow them?” he asked Sally conspiratorially.

“Erm. I don’t know.” she hesitantly replied.

She had already explained to Wayne how she felt a little unsafe in this area. It wasn’t until she mentioned it that he noticed the lack of women. She also said that there was no chance she would have come here alone. It wasn’t the first time Wayne was reminded of a woman’s perspective of the city. Most of the time he was oblivious to the danger for women, so when reminded it took him a little by surprise no matter how much he understood the reality of the situation.

Nevertheless he encouraged her to join him in the little adventure and follow them.

At last the inauspicious start to the day had turned. As they walked through the small doorway they found themselves in a small car park with 8 cars, 12 cows, and a small crowd of locals.

Two cows lay on the ground in various states of being slaughtered and a third was in small pieces by a covered area of the car park. So all in all there were three distinct groups at work on different cows.

After the initial affronting smell and unusual site Wayne settled down to watching the show. He had forgotten, but Sally reminded him that she was a country girl and this kind of thing was common where she came from.

They agreed that it was worth waiting around to see an actual kill as they had both seen animals being skinned and chopped up before coming to Turkey.

Before they got their chance a group of 3 men approached them. They looked harmless enough. One was an elderly man of about 70, one closer to their age – roughly 35, and the last a youngster who seemed to be just tagging along.

“Hello” the middle aged one offered in a friendly manner. “What are you doing here?”

Sally and Wayne both suspected this might be the end of the show. However, it turned out that they were just concerned about strange people being aware of the illegal activities.

They asked how we knew there were cows in the car park and we explained that it was just by pure chance that they were there. Either way they made a good impression on the locals. It was just as well they’d both been keenly aware that pulling out a camera and acting like tourists would have had dire consequences.

After a little more friendly banter between the two groups the locals wished Sally and Wayne well and left them to it.

It was about this time that a new animal was being shepherded over the to the temporary winch.

Their opportunity to observe the slaughtering had come.

It took quite a long time to get everything in place and ready. First the animal had one hind leg tied to the winches’ hook. This was then cranked up high in the air to reduce the cow’s mobility. Once in the air they tied her hind legs together and lowered her to the ground. Then it was the turn for her fore legs to be bound which took a little longer, as she had more freedom to kick about on the ground.

After she was fully bound various men took positions around her to hold her down and ensure she didn’t trash about.

Whilst this was happening I noticed a young man approach the cow with some knifes in his hand. Initially he looked fine, but as proceedings progressed he looked more and more nervous.

At first he tried to help hold her steady, but as he wasn’t overly large or strong he left it to the others.

As he had stationed himself by her head and was holding the only knives I presumed that he was going to conduct the sacrifice. This proved to be the case.

After a bit of struggling she finally settled down and relaxed. This was when the “ceremony” started. The young man said a prayer to Allah and then started carving away at her neck with a tiny butchers knife.

The first thing that struck Wayne as odd was that it wasn’t just a case of making a large chop to her neck. For some reason he thought it would be over in a matter of seconds. The second thing was that she remained calm whilst her neck was being cut. This Wayne found incredibly bizarre. How could she not feel her neck being sliced open?

He wasn’t aware of Sally’s thoughts and given that she didn’t say anything and had been brought up near farms he guessed it wasn’t of any consequence to her.

As the process continued the cow started to get agitated. At this point there was a clear cut and the young man was getting further into her neck.

An older man, probably the local butcher, came up to him and gave him a different knife, which made a huge difference. The new knife was clearly sharper than the previous one, as the work then continued at a much faster pace.

At this point both Wayne and Sally had a clear view of the cow’s inner workings and she was noticeably feeling the pain. The windpipe was broken and she was violently thrashing at this point.

The men holding her down were visibly anxious. Sally felt that this was because they were loosing their grip on her and things looked to get much worse. However, Sally and Wayne became aware that the source of the mens’ concern was not for themselves but for the cow.

Indeed, a mother, with her flock of children nearby, had her charges turn away from the miserable cow and look at her instead. Sally told Wayne later that she was asking them questions about school as a way to distract them from the poor cow.

One of the elder men couldn’t bear watching any longer and took over from the young man. He immediately commenced jabbing at a particular spot and, although it still took a while for the stressed cow to die, she finally gave in.

Not long after both Wayne and Sally left the crowd to their tasks and headed out of the car park.

On reflection what had been a tortuous start to the day had completely turned for the good. Both Wayne and Sally were happy that they had been so lucky to be able to witness the ceremony.

¹ Source: Wikipedia