With the arrival of Spring, people are ready to travel. Thus, we’ll be hosting a spate of visitors in the next few months, people who are ready to eat olives and tomatoes, soak up the Call to Prayer, and peek into ancient churches. ‘Cause that’s what we’ve got: olives, calls, and churches.
Starting the influx of visitors were my aunt and uncle, who spent six days this past week here in Cappadocia (after three days in Istanbul and two in Athens). Aunt Phyl and Uncle Scott live outside Duluth, so we’re used to seeing them on a regular basis. Perhaps more importantly, Scott is the one who picked me up when I was five years old and wearing a very pretty dress and hefted me over the railings of a pigpen to set me on the back of the biggest beast in the joint.
Somewhat surprisingly, given how pretty my dress was, we are still on speaking terms.
How could we not be? Scott and Phyl are the people who dropped me off at college, who came to every Parents’ Day for the four years I was there, who gave Byron and me a pig–do we sense a recurring theme?–as a wedding present (and proceeded to roast it up and serve it at our reception). They have always been awesome and held true to form during their time in Turkey; they were up for hiking and seeing dervishes whirl and drinking multitudinous cups of tea and doing craft projects with the kids and having picnics and wading through the crowded Saturday market and making paintings and watching the kids do pottery and hitting their heads on every low stone doorway. Now they’re flying back home, only slightly concussed, and we all agree it was delightful: