Vacation
Only Julianna could really understand the middle eastern chaos that is my family. My father is quite the character, still committing all the same unbelievable acts my mother and I knew all too well. My reincarnated parents, or so I hoped, come from two different worlds. Gul is uptown popularity with measures of reason and he is the imitation of a village boy, lacking logic, banking on theatre. Their lives are quite comical actually, she smokes and eats and shops and talks with her girlfriends all day, returning home to hollowly welcome his Bitterness, to which no one can understand why he is so angry. And I assume my usual role of being stuck in the middle, deciphering what I know, what I see, and what I hear. Delicately, then, I conjure my voice, smile sweetly and make the best of what Americans conclude at best as poor communication and congruence. While trying to make sense of the elephant in the middle of the room, I day dream about being small and riding the exotic animal with glee, to cope with what goes unspoken in their prestigious residence. I am reminded of what Nalda Said and wonder if my impulse is to run at any slight resemblence of the deformed masculinity my house infused in me. There is always a part of me that fights against hatred for liars and fakes and another part of me that longs to let the lure lul me to sleep in ignorance. They say our perception of reality holds more bearing than factual events, no wonder I am the epitomy of dichotomy. But how can I admire a man who splits his personality with his daughter and his wife? Let my Master's in Psychology answer me that. Come Saturday I will no longer have a fill in mom.
Anyway, yesterday I perused the town with my classy step mom and today I was catered to by the governer's son at the finest Turkish restaurant and cafe. I was served coffee in a tiny ceramic cup in an elegant silver tea cup on a silver saucer on a silver platter with a silver lid straight from the Be Our Guest scene in Beauty and the Beast. Multiple waiters hovered over me waiting for me to finish the last drop of my coffee so that they could rid the table of any unnecessary utensil that may disturb my stay. Ankara has the appearance of Turkish culture but makes great efforts to emulate Western European American life, as Ali frankly confirmed. My heels and hair shamefully protested my seeming inclusion with the wealthy to be worthy of this young man's high status, all the while my insides turning about the reality that only one percent of this country enjoys such luxury that U.S. pennies easily buys. I felt sick and confused about what to feel and think. I should know better than to speak to soon; it is what it is.
Anyway, yesterday I perused the town with my classy step mom and today I was catered to by the governer's son at the finest Turkish restaurant and cafe. I was served coffee in a tiny ceramic cup in an elegant silver tea cup on a silver saucer on a silver platter with a silver lid straight from the Be Our Guest scene in Beauty and the Beast. Multiple waiters hovered over me waiting for me to finish the last drop of my coffee so that they could rid the table of any unnecessary utensil that may disturb my stay. Ankara has the appearance of Turkish culture but makes great efforts to emulate Western European American life, as Ali frankly confirmed. My heels and hair shamefully protested my seeming inclusion with the wealthy to be worthy of this young man's high status, all the while my insides turning about the reality that only one percent of this country enjoys such luxury that U.S. pennies easily buys. I felt sick and confused about what to feel and think. I should know better than to speak to soon; it is what it is.