The Stable Door Opens

The Stable Door opens

It is that time of year again. As the heat, humidity and holiday crowds build up on the coast, a strange natural phenomenon breaks over the spacious ranches of the mountain dwellers of Islamlar, Sarıbelen, and the other hill stations.

For those who like to “follow the science” let me explain; as one sits sipping mulberry (from one’s own tree ‘natch) kefir smoothies under a shady vine looking down on the heat haze of Kalkan, particles of self-satisfaction build up in the air. This build up eventually causes a Smug to form. In turn excess particles break out on the face in the form of a smirk. The whole delightful process is called Condescension.

Yes as the dry season starts we mountain dwellers start to relish three months of smugness. Conversations will be peppered with comments such as

“Oh we never need air conditioning”

“It must be unbearable in Kalkan, poor things!”

“To think we used to live there”

“I hear it’s 42 down there today”

Of course it is payback for those weeks in March or April when the mountains sit enclosed in clouds and Kalkan basks drenched in sun.

But this is our moment. Three months of bliss beckon.

And of course we Vulnerable Citizens are free to go out now, well most of the time anyway. The only shadow on our smugness has been removed. Joy!

To mark our return to the New Normal, I tried to rally enthusiasm amongst my fellow hillbillies for some sort of a celebration.

My initial suggestion was for a bit of statue toppling. I have been reading on Facebook that it is all the rage. As a native Bristolian my first gig was Led Zeppelin at the Colston Hall (we will skip over the Esther and Abi Ofarim concert my mum took me to). So I am a little reluctant to see it renamed as the Grace Mugabe Community Centre or somesuch.

I must not allow myself to sound a dinosaur though. To be “woke” is the thing. Many of my fellow mountain dwellers are very “woke” and “in the moment”. Although my mate Baz is still what you might call a “woke in progress”.

I was a litte disappointed then to find my fellows less than enthusiastic about my idea of toppling into the nearby waters one or two of the Sultans’ heads displayed on the Fethiye Kordon .

“Some of these Ottoman rulers did atrocious things” I argued with passion. “Ibrahim the Mad drowned his entire hareem of 280 women. Tied them up in sacks and dropped them in the swirling currents because he believed that one of them had been unfaithful.”

Even Baz thought this was excessive!

In the event caution won the day. This is Turkey after all. Different cultures, different histories. Tricky. More pertinently the Jandarma may not be sufficiently “woke” to understand that our Righteous Anger was a gesture of solidarity. A cry against oppression.

In the end we decided to meet for a breakfast at Bel Muar, which was fabulous. After an excellent couple of hours however, we all started to feel anxious about being out so long and exhausted from socialising. It has been thirteen weeks after all. And we are vulnerable.

We headed back to the dense smug of our mountain ranches.

Have a great weekend wherever you are.

And remember to take care. “Festina lente”  as the great Roman General and tactician Quintus Fabius said “Hasten slowly”.