April Showers

Today I found myself caught in a torrential downpour, unarmed with my şemsiye (an umbrella, which, according to my host mother, should be carried with me at all times to prevent getting wet and thereby getting ill) or any other kind of weapon to ply against the elements. On my way from teaching English at the Gençlik Merkezi (Youth Center) with Sophie, we tried to shield ourselves under various coverings included but not limited to a tunnel made of fake rock in a small park, an overcrowded bus stop, and a shop awning before our savior, a young man, beckoned us into a small cafe, where the power had gone out. Once inside, we shook ourselves off and perched at a table looking out onto the rain, thunder, lightning, and hail outside. The cafe owners kindly offered us erik, a small, green fruit, which I believe is a young plum, and strawberries, along with a Türk kahvesi, the delicious, espresso-like coffee for which Turkey is famous.

We sat there sipping our coffee, not really wanting the rain to abate, as we were settled quite cozily indoors. We entertained ourselves by reading our fal, which is a special way to read the coffee grounds to sort of tell fortunes. A little while later, the other American girls came in, even wetter than we were after evidently wading through gigantic puddles that had accumulated. We sat around for awhile longer until the rain somewhat subsided, then proceeded to run across the street to the bus stop, board the extremely crowded bus, fight through terrible traffic, and make our ways home.

After the forty-five minute ride (standing/slipping around on the wet floor), I got off at my bus stop. I ran into my classmate Ayten there - a coincidence to be sure, but not a surprising one. Though I really know few people in this city, I seem to always running into acquaintances. That makes this rather large city feel like a small town in some ways. She was delighted to see me, for in the front of her nearby apartment building, there was a "wild dog" that she was terribly frightened of, and she wanted me to frighten it away. I walked to her apartment and shooed the dog, a big, yellow mutt, away easing open the gate and coaxing it out while Ayten hid herself around the corner. When I looked up, the rain had completely abated. The sun was shining strangely brightly - perfect rainbow weather, if all the apartment buildings hadn't been blocking me on every side.

Turks talk about "April showers" too, and tomorrow we shall see if they will in fact bring May flowers. And as my childhood joke goes: what do May flowers bring? Pilgrims! As I found out, though, that joke doesn't translate very well into Turkish!