Week Two

We’re starting to find our rhythm here in Antalya.

School isn’t out yet, so mornings still begin with breakfast and a little schoolwork with Kayra before we head to the beach or the pool. There will be no summer slide on my watch. The pool is only a few steps from the apartment, which makes it easy to bounce back and forth throughout the day.

By afternoon, I’m working East Coast hours from the tables under the shade trees by the pool. There is a small gazino there that serves snacks, meals, and drinks, and it has become a regular part of our routine. Kayra usually orders a fruit-flavored mineral water and I usually order a Turkish coffee. More than once lunch has been a grilled cheese sandwich and sigara böreği, now renamed kalem böreği, crispy rolls filled with cheese.

One of the best decisions we made for this trip was hiring someone to come a couple of days a week to cook. Between work, family, and being away from home for six weeks, not having to figure out dinner every night has been a gift. This week we had Ali Nazik, spiced lamb over smoky eggplant and yogurt, and türlü, a simple vegetable stew served with bulgur pilaf. Both were delicious and exactly the kind of food I wish I could effortlessly make at home.

The evenings are usually reserved for family time. We walk or bike along the seaside path across from the apartment, visit relatives, and spend time together without constantly checking the clock or rushing off to the next thing.

On Friday we headed to Ankara to visit family members who can’t make it to the coast this year. What was supposed to be a quick trip turned into a much bigger adventure.

We planned to continue on to Kapadokya that evening, but as we approached Konya, the weather changed our minds. Storms were moving through Central Anatolia, and by the time we reached the city, water was pouring down the mountainsides. Mud, rocks, and silt were washing over the retaining walls and onto the highway. In some places the water on the road was several inches deep. As we got farther into town, we could see cars creeping through water that reached their wheel wells.

The unexpected stop turned out to be one of the nicest surprises of the trip. The hotel found us a family room on short notice, and after a long day in the car it felt wonderful to stop moving. The room was spotless, the service was excellent, and we discovered that access to the gym and hamam was included.

The next morning we wandered downstairs for breakfast and found one of the nicest hotel breakfasts we’ve had in Turkey. There was a gözleme station, fresh omelets, an entire frame of honeycomb, more cheeses and olives than I could count, and enough food that we briefly considered canceling lunch.

Konya was never part of the plan. It was simply where we happened to be when the storm hit. But between the warm welcome, the comfortable stay, and that breakfast buffet, it’s a place we’d happily stop again.

The weather was dramatic, but the reason for the trip was family. We spent the weekend drinking tea, sharing meals, and catching up with relatives. One of the things I love about spending time in Türkiye is that nobody seems interested in leaving the table. Conversations stretch on for hours, more tea appears, someone slices up another plate of fruit, and somehow there’s always more food.

At one point the conversation took one of those wonderfully unpredictable turns. We started by comparing Social Security and healthcare in the U.S. and Türkiye, and before long we were debating the long-term effects on homelessness, public health, and how societies care for their most vulnerable. It was the kind of conversation my husband’s family loves to have.

Eventually Kayra wandered off to the couch to play on his own while the adults kept talking.

That’s when it hit me how far I’ve come.

A few years ago I would have smiled, nodded, and caught a word here and there. This time I was in the conversation. I wasn’t just following along. I was contributing.

Did I know every word? Definitely not. Was my grammar perfect? Also no. I paused to search for vocabulary, corrected myself when I mispronounced something, and occasionally had to explain the same idea a different way when the first attempt didn’t land.

But I had a seat at the table.

More importantly, Kayra got to watch his mom do something hard. He watched me work through a conversation that was well beyond ordering food or making small talk. He saw that fluency isn’t about perfection. It’s about being willing to stumble over a sentence, try again, and keep going until you get your point across.

For me, that moment was one of the biggest milestones of the trip.

Two weeks in, life here is starting to feel familiar. That’s one of my favorite parts of a long stay. Eventually you stop feeling like a visitor and start feeling, at least a little bit, like you belong.