Ding-Dong

If there's one aspect of Turkish culture that makes me break out in a cold sweat, it's the surprise visit.

Turks, in general, are a relational people. Tea and conversation is often required when you enter a small shop to buy something. People will knowingly show up late to a scheduled appointment simply because they were in conversation with someone. And it's completely normal to visit someone without calling ahead first.

I'm not very comfortable doing any of the things that I just mentioned. In fact, the latter two can make me downright irritated. But, I live in Turkey. And in Turkey, that's the way of life. So, I have to continually ask the Lord to give me an extra measure of grace in those uncomfortable situations. 

Tonight, around 6:00pm, as I was coaxing Noah to eat carrots, the doorbell rang. I figured it was the "kapıcı" coming to collect our trash for the evening. As I peeked out the peep hole, however, I saw two women and a baby. "OH NO!," I thought. "Who is that? My house is a wreck and my hair isn't done. Should I open the door? Maybe if I'm quiet enough they'll just leave and come back another time. No, surely they heard me in here. Darn. I think I have to open it."

After I put the kabosh on my frantic thoughts, I managed a friendly smile and opened the door. There stood Sema, her 9-month old daughter, Suhayat, and her mother, Fatma, the neighbors that moved in below us just a week ago.

"Can we come in for a visit?" they asked in Turkish. "Of course," I replied, while every bone in my body wanted to say, "Now's not a good time." I led them into our salon (main sitting room), where they literally had to step over a gazillion Little People figurines and couch pillows just to sit down. A few minutes into their visit, I left Zach to chat with them in the salon while I prepared tea. Because Tea. Is. Required. As soon as I got to the kitchen my frantic thoughts started again: "It's a good thing I'm not still in my pajamas. I don't have any food to serve them. I wonder how long they're going to stay. I hope I still have sugar cubes for the tea. I'm so embarrassed by this mess."

We sat and drank tea in the salon and conversation seemed to get easier and easier. I discovered that Sema and I are both in our 30's and both stay at home with our two kids. She has traveled to several other countries and has gotten a small glimpse of what life in a foreign land is like.

We talked about babies and schools and Turkish cuisine, and before I knew it an hour and a half had past. I walked them to the door and recited all of the cultural sayings, "Güle güle" (rough meaning: "Go smiling") and "Sizi bekliyoruz" (rough meaning: "We're waiting for you to come again"). As they left, one last inner thought came, "I'm still not totally comfortable with the surprise visit... but I'm glad I opened the door."