Phillip and Rebecca Mefford

Nisan April April has been a month of transition for the Mefford family: We've packed... We've moved...  And somewhere, in the midst of all the boxes and suitcases, Lincoln has become quite the climber (yikes, Mom and Dad)! We are soo happy to be in our home country, near family, but it was hard to say goodbye to the Turkish friends who over the last three years have become like family. However, we did not actually say "goodbye," but Görğüşürüz!-- See You Later! In the meantime, we're going to enjoy Wal*Mart, Chick-fil-A, and just being able to speak English with everyone!

Otuzdört 34 İstanbul Tarkan No, I can’t sing. In fact, I can’t even keep a tune. Ha ha. What an original joke. Why did my parents have to name me Tarkan? I suppose they could not predict that by the time I was an adult an explosively popular love-ballad crooning pop rocker would go by the same name. He’s really not as cool as he thinks he is (or as all the fifteen year old girls think he is). The thing that really gets me is that this mildly talented “demi-god” is making exponentially greater amounts of money than I am-- and I have a graduate degree from one of the most prestigious universities in Turkey! The other thing is that this kid has a platform from which he could advocate for the impoverished, democracy, preservation of historical artifacts, recycling— anything —but he just saunters around and winks at his swooning fans. Okay, I know I’m starting to get on my soapbox, it’s just that I want a better country, a better world, and I just don’t have that kind of money and influence

Otuzbir 31 Hatay Meryem I am very close to my mother. Almost daily we go over to her house while my husband is at work. Markos rambles around the enclosed courtyard while mother and I cook and bake, peeking through the shuttered kitchen windows to watch him. After a full week of preparing for Paskalya , Easter, we rest a bit remembering the days of my own childhood. One year for Paskalya our church community worshiped at Saint Petrus’ Basilica, now deemed a museum. In that dark, holy cave we lit candles, we shared bread and wine, we prayed, we remembered that in this place people were first called “Christians.” Though the map calls our home Hatay around here we commonly say Antakya (Antioch), the name used in the Acts of the Apostles . We are Syriani (Assyrian or Syriac) Christians; my people – in fact, my family – traces our Christian faith back to the Apostles Peter and Paul themselves. We are the oldest surviving Christian people group in the world. Even our language, Syriac, is a

Yirmiyedi 27 Gaziantep Ali In southern Turkey on the Syrian boarder is a city called Antep, officially renamed Gaziantep— gazi meaning a victorious military leader-- in 1921 for our military prowess and courage in the fight for Turkish independence. We have the honor that comes by fighting for our nation. We have history that dates back to Hittite civilization. We have fortresses and mosques that inspire awe. We have world-renowned archeology and mosaic museums. And has anyone ever told you about our food? Grilled onion and pepper infused ground lamb kebaps, rich walnut-coated gavurdağ salads, nutty flat-breads (our own variation of the typical Turkish lahmacun ), delectable deep-fried dough-covered meatballs called içli köfte , and of course çiğ köfte , meatballs tirelessly kneaded with our bare hands until the raw meat is cooked by sheer spices rather than over fire. Don’t even get me started on our pistachio baklava, the best baklava in all the world! Everyone in Turkey knows, the

Yirmibeş 25 Erzurum Özlem One thing we Turks pride ourselves in is Turkey’s seasonal climate. Four seasons in all—Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter. My mother-in-law and I were watching a television program once about Buddhists in China who believe in reincarnation. Their belief in many gods is heinous to me, and yet I find the concept of reincarnation intriguing. Life cycling into another type of life. This reminds me of the whirling dervishes in Konya, circling around and around. It also makes me think of the seasons. Perhaps our life is just one cycle of seasons. Spring, birth, everything new and fresh and bright. Summer, youth, passion, momentum. Autumn, settling down, falling apart even, preparing for the winter. Then there is Winter, the dim and sleepy end of life, white and wise, and weary. In Erzurum, situated in the high mountains of Eastern Turkey, we know a lot about Winter. It is the longest season, cold and dark and it seems like it never ends. For once I didn’t want for Wint