Sunset during Ramazan, when the village wakes up
It’s like Christmas at home, the house must be perfect by the big day, and whilst in the UK husbands might be bullied into DFS to cough for a new sofa in time for Christmas delivery here, the determined housewife, will hold out for a whole new storey on the house.
Around the village home improvements are being rushed to completion. The neighbours down from me are concreting their courtyard and lime washing their walls and the husband and son were irritably mixing cement at 10pm the other night being sniggered at by less henpecked husbands.
Across the village long planned second stories are being grafted onto roof terraces, the stubby ends of the first floor metal earthquake frames that rise through the concrete are mated with new rebar columns, shuttered with scabby bits of left over wood and concrete poured to build the skeleton. Rapidly infilled with fragile tugla blocks the buildings are quickly done and swiftly rendered, ready for the all important season of hospitality that kicks off Şeker Bayram at the end of Ramazan.
The normal day to day tasks of a farming community must still be done though as we are in the middle of the pear and fig harvest. Work in the orchards is done in the cool of very early morning when the dawn mist wreathes the orchards or late at night under the waning Ramazan moon. Tractors are still rumbling through the streets at midnight, bringing in the harvest in the blessed cool.
Last night my closest neighbour was constructing a new ladder in the dark. He does this several times year, normally at cherry harvest and fig harvest time and he insists on doing it in the middle of the night. This isn’t some weird tradition I think he just forgets he has an outside light and so tends to grope around by moonlight and mosque light nailing together the long bark clad branches that form orchard ladders here.
Whilst the nights are buzzing and busy everyone tries to sleep during at least part of the day, leaving the village silent apart from the rasping of the crickets and the lulling rush of the hot wind through the pines. They sleep not just because it’s hot but also to pass the worst hours of fasting, when going without water is most difficult in the heavy heat of the afternoon. My neighbours are all keeping the fast and this year they are incredibly proud of themselves, and rightly so, because it has been hard in the terrible heat of high summer.
The mains water was off in the village the other day and all the ladies came to my house in the late afternoon to fill their cauldrons and kettles with water to cook the iftar meal as I’m closer than the village well. I offered them showers as well as they were hot and dusty but they all politely refused as whilst they can wash they cannot shower in case the water goes on their lips and they accidently swallow it.
They are beautiful in their dedication, it gives them a certain calm and a serenity and they enjoy this month long exercise in devotion. The first days are always hard but then they get into it and the shared discipline is yet another thing that welds them closer together as a community.
Neighbour’s husband is less serene; he was grumpily offloading hay from a tractor for their fleabitten grey horse the other afternoon. “Horse gets food,” he complained at me, “I keep Oruç!”
I did feel sorry for him, but when I saw him later, leaning on his terrace wall, drinking in the view of the mountain, drawing in deeply the smoke from his first post sunset cigarette he was back to his usual self, glowing with righteous pride and eagerly looking forward to the reward of a sumptuous Iftar meal.
This year must have been so difficult for all who are observing Ramazan, so hot. I admire all of those who can do it. Thanks for another wonderful article Karyn. x
It has been tough, and at the start the village ladies were telling me every day they had managed, but the tougher it is the better they feel about themselves and they are really, really proud of themselves right now. It’s lovely to see. K xxx
Hello from rainy Blighty. We’ll miss the seker bayram this year which is a shame. I have huge admiration for those who can endure Ramazan though I think it has sent Bodrum drivers slightly more deranged than usual. Being a soft westerner I think my fast would not last beyond a day or two.
Best not to drive around sunset, nothing worse than playing chicken with a dolmus driver intent on getting stuck into iftar. As a good Catholic girl I would of course stoically endure Ramazan, but of course as a good catholic girl I don’t have to! Enjoy the rain, we’re melting here, it was 45 yesterday. xxxx
living in a village environment gives so many insights into our adopted countrymen (and women) that are lost to those living in bigger communities/towns and particularly in the ghettoised ‘estates’. It really has been tough this year for those observing the fast, and you’re so right that there is a particular pride in making it through yet another day.
Great observations – thanks.
Very few of our neighbours appear to be keeping the fast. We’ve tried to keep our eating out of sight during the day but we often see neighbours enjoying meals in gardens and on terraces before dusk. This part of Selcuk is densely populated (we are definitely on the ‘wrong side of the tracks’. Buidling work seems endemic (it could be just in preparation for Bayram… This remains to be seen). This evening, whilst I was cooking, I could see our opposite neighbour whitewashing her outside wall. There has been a lot of sweeping of the street (both the communal bins have been moved) and spraying of the dust. I did sweep my portion but our hose won’t reach far enough to do the spraying.
Looks delicious. I have been meaning to tr the grape cake since you posted the recipe! Random baking question for you. Have you found brown sugar here, or do you have a substitution? So many American recipes call for it and when I just use white sugar things come out harder and crunchier. Just curious. They didnt have anything molasses-like at Tansas today, because I know you can add that with white sugar as a substitute. Thanks!
Demerara sugar is easy to get, it’s in all the supermarkets, it’s called Esmer Toz Seker and it’s made by Doga (excuse not using Turkish characters!). I use that for christmas cake and if I need to use molasses I use grape molasses which is also easy to find, uzum pekmezi in Turkish, it isn’t the same as black treacle but it’s close and you’ll have to experiment with varieties as some are more bitter and thick than others, the one I get here in the village is too thin and is really only useful for salad dressings but the ones in a jar from Tansas is better for cakes. Hope this helps Karen xxx
Beautiful post Karen ! I loved it !
Regarding the above, I bet carob molasses (harnup / keçiboynuzu pekmezi) would do the trick too. Coming from the States I’m unfortunately not familiar with black treacle, but from what I’ve heard about it I could imagine that carob might come pretty close (?)
Thanks for the suggestion, Carob molasses is really similar. We only get that here during August, it’s around at the moment in the village Sunday market along with the dried carob fruit/pod thingies. I’ve never looked for it in the supermarket as I don’t go often and I tend to just experiment with stuff I find in the village but thinking about it I guess it must be there as it’s used in a traditional Ramazan drink. Karen
Another lovely post, Karen, givin a real insight in the life and faith of your neighbours. How they endure the daylight hours without even water I cannot imagine, knowing how much I drink in much less hot weather than you’ve been having.