Phillip and Rebecca Mefford

We tediously put dollops of minced meat into tiny dough squares. Over the last few months we have been developing a friendship with another family, both the husband and wife of which work at the university where Phillip teaches. She is interested in improving her English and Rebecca wants to glean some Turkish cooking skills. Meanwhile the men chat, drink tea, and help keep the children safe as they play in their modest back-yard full of chickens, organic vegetables, and one rambunctious beagle. We started our cooking excursions with one of the most yorucu —tiring or time-consuming-- dishes that graces Turkish cuisine: mantı . Mantı could be called the Turkish miniature version of ravioli; noodles stuffed with meat, baked and/or boiled to perfection, and topped with a savory yogurt sauce. Despite tired fingers, after spending hours stuffing little dabs of meat into minuscule squares of dough, mantı proved to be very rewarding both to our stomachs as well as ou

Lincoln Umut takes a sip from a local sebil. Scattered all across Turkey are small spigots and water fountains. The ones in Isparta are considered especially refreshing because the water is known to come straight from the mountains, ice cold and clean. Many people call the water coming from these spigots şifa su , healing water. The actual name for them is sebil, a fountain built for the dispensing of water, but not merely as a defense against public dehydration, but an act of piety. According to their beliefs, builders of sebil gain sevap, merit gained by good deeds, and leave a legacy for their name.

Lincoln and Hudson meandering on Sagalassos' ancient pathways. Earlier this summer we had the joy of having Phillip’s parents visit, who showered us and our children with love, goldfish crackers, and all kinds of fun toys. With each anticipated visit we endeavor to show family and friends not only our modern, mundane daily existence, but we also try to go back in time. From Istanbul to Isparta, this has not been a difficult task because Turkey is chalk-full of historical sites. One of the closest ancient Roman cities to us now is called Sagalassos. Climbing up the mountainside visitors can meander past fantastically engineered Roman fountains, the city’s theater, which held dramatic performances as well as gladiatorial games, a well preserved library, and a number of other rock structures we endearingly call “old stuff.” Modest in comparison to many of the other Roman cities, the best preserved being Ephesus (a six hour drive from us), Sagalassos is nevertheless

Ramazan is over and Ramazan Bayram , the three day holiday of family and feasting at Ramazan’s culmination, has flown by as well. It was a flurried few days for our neighbors as they visited relatives and visited each other. Children, as always, get the sweetest deal out of the holiday, coming home with handfuls of candy and possibly some cash too. One of the most interesting customs for us to observe is one called el öpmek , to kiss [the] hand. This is how people show respect to their elders, buy kissing the elderly person’s hand and gently lifting it to their forehead. With this simple gesture grandparents, aunts, and uncles are honored, and each person takes his or her place in this ancient social structure that has become today’s Turkey.