Phillip and Rebecca Mefford

Our friends tell us that after a long day of fasting food and drink nothing sounds better than dessert! One neighbor knocked on our door a little after 10 last night to bring us these sweets. This year Ramazan , Ramadan, landed smack-dab in the middle of summer- June 28 th through July 27 th -- which means our Turkish friends are waking up for their sahur (early morning meal before the sun is up and fasting begins) well before sunrise and then, after the first namaz prayer of the day, taking a good ol' summer time nap until the next namaz (if they do not go to work, of course). Days are a little lazier, nights are a little livelier and each morsel of food-- once the sun sets-- is eaten with a little more fervor. Ramazan is always a very exciting and challenging time for our friends and neighbors. We are comparing the atmosphere of Isparta during this time with that of Istanbul. Our main observations so far: setting aside more liberal minded university people, true Ispar

Lincoln Umut helps Mommy pick out tomatoes. Isparta's biggest pazar,  farmer's market, is on Tuesdays. Blocks and blocks of streets in the city center are transformed by commercial sized umbrellas, make-shift plywood tables, and kilos upon kilos of fresh fruits and vegetables. One Tuesday morning as I (Rebecca) was going about the usual inquaries, "domates ne kadar?" (how much do tomatoes cost?),  "kaç kilo?" (how many kilo's?), etc., I was caught off-guard by the vendor's hesitation to put the meager bag of tomatoes on his scales. Then I noticed that others had stopped their pazarlık,  bargaining, and were standing, palms facing up, a posture of prayer. With the din of pazarlık at its minimum a voice from a local mosque could be heard through its loud-speaker. The imam,  mosque leader, was saying a prayer of blessing on the pazar . Apparently this is a weekly ritual...one that we can really appreciate.

A menagerie of Isparta's roses. Summer has dawned in Isparta and the roses are in bloom, vivid and fragrant. We have been looking forward to seeing what gives Isparta the epithet “City of Roses.” For at least a century products made from roses have factored in Ispartan industry, as can be seen in the multitudes of rose shops lined up in the city center. Rose water, rose perfume, rose soap, rose lotion, rose jam, rose-flavored Turkish Delight, and rose scented prayer beads are some of the main commodities for sale. Six years ago, when we were first learning about Turkey because we had decided to come here together after getting married, we had our first taste of Turkish delight—rose-flavored. We ordered bundles of it from a small Turkish restaurant in Seattle and passed it out at our wedding. In Istanbul we discovered a menagerie of other flavors (that taste much less like perfume), but here we are again in rose country, almost as if that first taste of

A heykel, statue, of President Demirel in the middle of the city center, in front of what used to be Isparta's best hotel, and framed with roses, Isparta's signature flower (we borrowed this photo from Google images). You may have noticed a theme when we were talking about Isparta: a man named Süleyman Demirel. The airport, the university, and major streets are named after him. So who is this Demirel? He is a man greatly influential in the political realm of Turkey, serving as Prime Minister between the years 1965 and 1993, and from then until 2000 as Turkey’s President. He is so loved in this city, because he is from Isparta. Demirel grew up in the town of İslamköy, Atabey (Isparta Province) and finished school in Isparta before going to Istanbul for college and then on to his political career. All we know about him is what we have gleaned from sources like Wikipedia, but many people in Isparta and all around Turkey vividly remember him, having lived throug

Doesn't Phillip look like a teacher? It was exactly a year ago that Phillip flew into Süleyman Demirel Havalimanı (airport) to pursue his job at Süleyman Demirel Üniversitesi. Within a day, his position as English teacher in the Yabancı Diller Yüksek Okulu (Foreign Languages School of Higher Education) was agreed upon, although there was a gauntlet of red tape to sift through before it was official. Waiting in Antalya until Phillip’s work visa was granted, a house fire pushed us into the leap of faith of settling into Isparta before everything was finalized, which took a couple more months. Now Phillip has finished a full semester of teaching, and we can say we are happy with Isparta and happy with his job. Yes, some students are lazy. And some aspects of teaching in a Turkish work place are a bit of a cultural shift (last minute changes to schedules, etc.). But the university is so influential in the community, and we are happy to be part of that influence. Ph