Peynirli Poğaça: Karagöz urges me to get baking and forget academia

Posted on March 15, 2012 by lizcameron

Those puppets, well, they are at it again. They are always nattering on and on, sometimes up to no good, sometimes up to good, scheming with the best of intentions and the worst at times – and discussing things that are going on in my life.  And while I am sure it is all for the greater good, sometimes I do tire of them despite the fact that I am secretly in love with them and the way that they allow me to see more clearly how I am thinking and feeling about the life I am steeped in.

Karagöz came to warn me about what the little chorus of dancing ladies (one of whom traditionally always starts up a Karagöz play) were up to as I was furiously following the Write-a-matrix’s demands to finish at least ONE of my manuscripts for publication while I was in seclusion down in Provincetown. The Write-a-matrix, as you may recall, is my internal whip-cracker, who only wants me to do academic writing – not my personal writing that I am getting back to after a hiatus of many years.

The Write-a-matrix does NOT care that I am not feeling well, nor that I am overwhelmed by my job’s demands to the extreme, or by the fact that I sometimes worry I am losing my mind as a result of this job.  She doesn’t care at all.  She is the pure academic writer who wants me to produce IMPORTANT commentary on IMPORTANT topics about the populations who “fall between the cracks” of the U.S. disability services and other systems.  She is true to that personal commitment that I made when I left direct care social work. “Never forget!” she screams, cracking her whip on the table to the left of my keyboard, “Never forget what you saw!” and I hurry back to writing even though I know that not many people will ever read my work and that it probably won’t make much of a difference anyway.

The dull ache in my stomach re-knots itself, a bit tighter this time, resulting in the internal version of a sharp whip crack, and I know that my endometriosis is coming back in full force – it has been a couple of years without this pain.  Perhaps it is my upset at this realization that indeed I’ll need to head for surgery again.  Perhaps spurred on by my response to the pain in my side, I shoot out some angry words her way, saying “Write-a-matrix – damn you – isn’t this really all for naught? And seriously, I took that ‘never forget’ oath before I had family responsibilities and a job like I do now. I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to balance all of this – much less balance this while I am not feeling well? I wish you would leave me alone. I wish everyone would just leave me alone.”  Ignoring my rant, that Write-a-matrix, she just kept cracking the whip – never breaking eye contact with her hypnotic stare.

Somewhat oblivious to all of this, Karagöz sauntered up just about then, full of his usual vim and vigor and oppositional behavior.  He was as drunk as a sailor on land leave for the first time in months. On the way over to visit me (from one end of the table to the other), he pushed the Write-a-matrix off of the desk in the midst of a sloppy dipping curtsy.  Seeing that the Write-a-matrix’s leather whip lay in wait, I wondered how long I had until the puppet battle really began in earnest.

“You see!” Karagöz said, pointing his swooning finger high into the sky above me, “those dancing ladies, they are on a mission (hiccup)- a mission I tell you!”  Turning my head to him at the completion of a sentence in my manuscript I was frantically trying to finish, I looked at him as if to say “make it snappy, I have no time for this.” Taking one sludgy step further, Karagöz smirked at me, saying “and that is just the problem, m’lady, you need to make time for more than this, that is what those little lady puppets are arguing, you need to make time to be a good wife – and a good Turkish wife at that and you know what that (hiccup) means, don’t you?”  Raising my eyebrows to indicate “no” in Turkish body language parlance, I just pursed my lips, tapped my keyboard, and waited for my drunken puppet friend to continue his inevitable rant, thinking “just what is this “Turkish wife” stuff, anyway?”

“Well, it means, you see, that you need to BAKE.” Standing tall with conviction, Karagöz exclaimed “you need to bake some Turkish pastries to show your husband that you love him and that you love his culture – if you are really so serious about cross-cultural life. Look at you, here you are on spring break from the university, slaving away, away from your husband, working at all hours of day and night on your academic papers. That Write-a-matrix be damned, you need to go home to the city and bake something good – and I vote for Peynirli Poğaça (pay-near-lee/ poh-ah-chah).

Pronouncing the ps in the Turkish name of the cheese-filled pastry with the ultimate alliterative allure, Karagöz fell over with the power of his own words. From his splayed-out position, Karagöz continued his rant even further ” in case your less-than-rudimentary Turkish fails you (and you NEED to get to studying that m’lady, now that you have tenure) – that means those feta and herb-filled savory buns that C. Teyze always serves when you come for tea.”  The pain in my stomach twisted a bit tighter, joining the mental pain of my guilt about all of the above.

Sighing at the tawdriness of Karagöz’s raw emotion oozing out as a result of being three-sheets-to-the-wind drunk, I heard the grumblings of a truly enraged Write-a-matrix as she climbed up the table leg, refusing to leave her job unfinished. I did feel guilty about being away from home and M. It is made somewhat easier by the fact that M. is fine with this – eating his organic chili from a can that he heats on the stove – something he cannot do when I am around. You can read more about that here – see the photo at the end of the article. Soon, Karagöz was dodging the Write-a-Matrix’s whip and the two were locked in mortal combat – yet another puppet battle in my life.

As the melee ensued, I thought about M., who was happy at home with his canned chili.  I thought about how he was 200% supportive of my academic career – although he does often say he wishes I was not so tired and overwhelmed by it.  I thought about how he was fine with me being away – as a couple married later in life – this has never been an issue for either of us.  And then I thought about my new e-friend Rosamond.  Raised in England, she is married to a man with Pakistani origins – and moved by the spirit, she converted to Islam when she married him. We have e-met and bonded recently through this blog – and I am ever grateful for her support and insightful comments.

I thought about all of her delicious-looking cooking posted on her blog entitled Food Glorious Food from Rosamond’s Kitchen.  I thought about my stepmom’s good advice about sometimes the best balm to heal an argument rift in a relationship is a good, home-cooked meal.  I thought about how nice it is to sit across from M. and have dinner together at the dining table.  I thought “I need to go home, and try out some of Rosamond’s recipes.”  The endometriosis-infused twinges in my stomach still continued, but the mental ones eased up a bit.  Taking the bull by the horns, I began to pack my bags for the trip home.

As I prepared for the trip, I just put Karagöz and the Write-a-matrix on mute and instead, I thought about Rosamond.  In truth, I feel as though this trail-blazer in the cross-cultural marriage club (40 years of marriage and counting) is in my corner – she has given me great advice and she inspires me about not letting anything get in the way of loving my M.  This is the best of what the blogosphere has to offer, this kind of e-camaraderie.  In any case, Rosamond popped into my mind for a reason – and Karagöz knew this – in addition to being the fabulous woman and wife she is, she has embraced the joys of cooking dishes from around the world – and hosts an interesting blog that is the very epitome of the best that globalization in situ has to offer.

Several weeks ago, Rosamond shared her recipe for peynirli poğaça – but she often has treats from many origins – from Polish cheesecake in honor of her father’s roots, shami kebabs from Pakistani or English almond pastry mince pies and beyond. I am grateful to her for these English-language recipes – and for the fact that she puts out recipes that she herself has tested! Please check out her blog for some no-nonsense, clear and super-yummy recipes!  So, while I am in process on balancing my personal life and my professional one, I think I might just have time to try Rosamond’s recipe! I’ll report back on that – but for now – check out this Turkish guy making peynirli poğaça with his kids!

Rosamond’s recipe for Peynirli Poğaça

There are many different types and shapes of this popular bread,bun or pastry as its called.This is very popular in Turkey for breakfast but it can be seved any time of the day. When my husband and i had our holiday home in turkey my neighbour used to send them round to us some mornings. I liked them so much i translated her recipie which i have included in my book.

Ingredients

  • 237ml   whole milk
  • 2 eggs, whites and yolks separated
  • 1 tbsp cooking oil
  • 4 tbsps granulated sugar
  • 1 tsp salt 800g plain flour
  • 2 tsps dry yeast
  • Cheese filling:
  • 225g     feta cheese crumbled
  • 4 tbsps  finely chopped parsley
  • For decoration: 3tsp  black sesame seeds

Procedure

  • 1 Add 2 tbsps of sugar in milk and stir to combine. Heat the milk in microwave for a minute or so. 2 Sprinkle dry yeast over milk and put the bowl in a warm place for 30 minutes. I usually leave it in microwave.
  • 3 After it has risen add 2 egg whites, the remaining sugar (2 tablespoons), oil, salt and gradually add flour while you are kneading the dough.
  • 4 Knead it until combined. Leave dough in a warm place to rise. It usually takes an hour to double in size.
  • 5 When it rises, take some dough the size of a golf ball and make it flat and round in your palm. 6 Put 1tsp cheese filling in it and close the edges of dough and make sure they stick to each other, it must look like letter “D”.
  • 7 Prepare an egg wash with 2 egg yolks and brush one side of each “pogoca” and sprinkle some black sesame seeds.
  • 8 Place them egg washed side up onto the greased baking tray/grease proofed sheets and pop them into the 180 C pre-heated oven and bake for about 20-25 minutes or until golden brown. 9 Serve warm with tea or any drink you like

Oven Temperature: 350f/180 C/Gas 4/5

Recipe Tips · You could also use 8oz cooked mince, salt and pepper, spices according to your taste instead of feta cheese.

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Esma and M. mourn the Sivas Alevi massacre case verdict

Posted on March 14, 2012 by lizcameron

Honoring the (mostly) Alevi people who died in the Sivas massacre on July 2, 1993. (Image thanks to this link)

“Have you heard the news?” M. asked quietly over the crackly phone line as I dashed out to the porch in search of better reception. “Have you read the Turkish papers yet today?” he asked, with intent. “There was a big riot in protest of the Sivas massacre case being dropped as a result of a statute of limitations. It is just awful, just terrible. This is one reason why I fear for the nation of my birth.”

In his comments, M. is referencing the Sivas massacre (in which 33 Alevi intellectuals were murdered in 1993). M has spoken about this massacre many times in the course of our years together. You can see the news he is reacting to here and here and you can read more about the massacre here.

According to bianet.com, “The trials would have continued if the Sivas Massacre would have been accepted as a crime against humanity….at the hearing on 6 December 2011, (the) Prosecutor…put forward that after 15 years the statute of limitation had been reached…The plaintiff lawyers had demanded to handle the Sivas Massacre as a crime against humanity…the statute of limitations could not be applied to the case in the scope of a crime against humanity…Lawyer Mehdi Bektaş reiterated the same demand with regard to Article 7 of the European Convention on Human Rights. Lawyer Kazım Genç reminded verdicts given related to crimes against humanity and that it was a requirement of the jurisprudence to take these rulings into consideration. Lawyer Süleyman Ateş introduced himself as the nephew of Sehergül Ateş who died at the Madımak hotel in the course of the massacre. He urged the court, “Dismiss the request for the statute of limitation for the sake of the relief of the heart of sensitive people who have lost a relative and have been waiting for justice for 19 years”….Many people gathered in front of the courthouse upon the call of the Pır Sultan Culture and Solidarity Association. They were outraged about the court decision. Members of political parties, non-governmental organizations and trade unions carried photographs of the victims of the Sivas massacre and a banner reading “We did not make the massacre be forgotten and we will not forget”. The group chanted slogans like “No to statute of limitation, we want justice” and “The light of Sivas will not go out. ”

According to most reports, the Alevi who died had gathered for a cultural festival in honor of Alevi poet Pir Sultan Abdal (who you can read more about here, a fascinating person), two hotel employees and two members of the twenty-thousand-strong group of Sun’ni Islamists that allegedly set/celebrated the fire. It was a horrible instance of the dangerous and evil power of group think, if you ask me…

Occurring about a year before M. left Turkey for the U.S., this incident has clearly left its mark on my husband’s psyche. Clearly,the persecution of the Alevi as well as limitations on living as an atheist in Turkey had an indelible impact on his life. For example, once, when our niece asked him why he prefers the U.S. t0 Turkey, this massacre was the first thing he listed – stating that at least the civil rights movement has some power in this country. Although M. is not an Alevi, he is an ardent supporter of both the freedom of religion and freedom of expression – and worries at the increasing limitations on both he sees in Turkey over the decades – sometimes in the name of liberal to left causes. But that is a topic for another time.

Part of the reasoning behind the firesetting at the Sivas massacre, as I understand it, was the idea that one of the Alevi authors at the cultural celebration was allegedly promoting atheism. And this, in part, may be behind M.’s longstanding feelings about the Sivas massacre. Let me tell you a story about that. Once, M. tells me, as a young and naive 15 year-old student, he and his dear friend decided to take a stance with respect to their right to proclaim themselves as atheists in secular Turkey. They were, you see, essentially protesting the default listing of religion on their national identity cards. And the default listing was Sun’ni Muslim. In recounting the tale, M. channels the teenaged version of himself, who proclaimed “Why not test the secular-ness of our country, by changing our identity cards?”

Now before I go on, let me say that M. does come from Sun’ni roots, he was raised in a primarily secular family (his Bosnian grandmother was the only one who prayed 5 times a day while he was growing up), but explains with some sadness that while he desperately wanted to “feel God” the way others he knew did, God just never came to him. Coming into his adolescence in the 1970s, M. lived through news reports from Iran – and became fearful of the potentially negative power of religion. It seems that the Sivas massacre was the straw that broke the camel’s back for him.

Once he and his friend were in the belediye(that’s akin to a city hall, folks) requesting that their identity cards be changed, a generous and wise soul took pity on them. As M. tells it, the kindly amca (gentleman, uncle) at the identity card window encouraged them to reconsider their request. “Yes it is true,” he said, “you have the right to do this – but do you really think this is a wise decision? You will need to go to court for this. What would happen if you were stopped by the cops and they saw that you were atheists? Do you really want to test this out? Is it really worth it to you? There are times that standing on principle is not worth it, I ask you to consider this.” Uncharacteristically, my protest-oriented odd duck of a husband thought better of the move to test the limits of what is supposed to be a secular state – and left the Sun’ni Muslim marker on his identity card.

As I write this, Esma, the tiny hippie puppet, is sighing through a blue-grey funk. She is dejected today, not even able to continue her celebration of our win of the Liebster award I wrote about yesterday. Instead of her usual buoyant flitting about the house, she sits by the window, looking out at the rain on the water in Provincetown bay. Without even turning to face me, the words slip sadly out of her mouth, “it is a sad day when it comes to this Sivas massacre verdict, and I feel M.’s pain left over for years – the pain that made him let go of his right to proclaim his lack of religion” she says, her words are accompanied by sad, wilty white gladiolas, a traditional funeral flower in the United States. Esma, you see, emits flowers from her mouth and ears depending on her mood. If she is in a wicked mood, it’s usually the sharp-edged but boldly-colored ginger flower or birds-of-pardise whereas if she is joyful and light it is often soft and airy jasmine and rose petals. But today, it is those aforementioned wilty, white gladiolas, their soft plopping sound hitting the floor with a maudlin regularity.

“It is grey indeed today. It feels as though the sun is nowhere in the world,” Esma continues, sighing deeply, “and I remember all of the pain of July 2, 1993. What I have never told you, m’lady, is that my interest in Sufism is actually an offshoot of being raised as an Alevi. As you may know, Alevis are a minority group in Turkey, who have roots in Shi’ia Islam with a twinge of Sufism. We are a group of critical thinkers, who reject gender oppression and embrace social change. You can read more about us here”

An horrific image of the seemingly celebratory protests outside of the hotel as 37 people died during the Sivas massacre. (Image thanks to this website) The wife in me worries that this image will bias views about all Turks in ways that will impact M. more than stereotypes already do.

“Allah, hallah,” Esma continued, using Turkish slang to indicate a big emotional sigh of surprise or intensity, “if I let myself think about it, I would think about the Sivas massacre and the Maraş massacre and so many others all the time – but although Wikipedia has a page devoted to “massacres in Turkey” this is not the spiritual or moral core of the majority of the home country I know…and I fear that people will not see that. I wish for peace on this matter, and resolution – and a more tolerant Turkiye.”

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The Karagöz puppets revel in blog love around the world

Posted on March 13, 2012 by lizcameron

Late last night, the Karagöz shadow puppets burst out into a cheer.  I was brushing my teeth at the time, and couldn’t come right out, but I knew they were jumping all over the iPad, and figured their futbol (soccer) team (Galatasaray, of course) had done something good.  When I emerged into the dark of the hallway, there they were, dancing in a raptured state, the luminous blue light of  the technology age rendering them like starchy jellyfish glowing in the dark at the bottom of the ocean.

“M’lady!” Esma, the hippie puppet, cried as she swung her arms about in slow motion, “come dance with us – you have won something wonderful – it is called “The Liebster Award!” Feeling a bit timid, I walked into the living room and soon was propelled by pure love of these puppet brain inhabitants to swirl around the living room in my nightgown like Isadora Duncan on LSD.  It might not have looked quite as grand as that, but it felt good.  M. came in and danced with me too with all the goofiness of a galumphing elephant in a delicate ballet posture.  We made a fine sight for the neighbors, that’s for sure.

In any case, the Liebster Award is for “the best kept secret” blogs with less than 200 followers. I can see that it is a smart way for people to find new blogs and to help other bloggers get discovered.  So many thanks to you, Madhu, f0r choosing me for this award.  I think that the best thing about blogging is the connections one makes to like-minded souls in far flung spots – and in some cases – not so far flung!  Best of all is being acknowledged by a smart and interesting woman blogger who has built a bridge with me – isn’t that what social networking is all about after all?  Please check out Madhu’s gorgeous blog, called “The Urge To Wander” and her lovely photographs (I am especially enamored of her Nubian landscapes, taken in or near Aswan, Egypt).  I especially love her devotion to participating in weekly photography challenges (see her entries here), and she may have just tipped my scales in the direction of doing the same!

So, in order to accept the award, I have several tasks to complete:

  • Thank the person that nominated you on your blog and link back to them (see above!)
  • Nominate up to 5 other blogs with less than 200 subscribed followers for the award (see below)
  • Let them know via comment on their blog (on the way as soon as this is posted!)
  • Post the award on your blog (done!)

So here are my 5 “Hidden Secrets” to whom the Liebster has been passed on.  I have attempted to stick with the focus of this blog in awarding these Liebsters – these blogs either address Turkey or cross-cultural relationships in some way, shape or form.  May they be as wonderful to you as they are to me! The puppets are all a-flutter over which blog to visit first…

1) Senior Dogs Abroad:  Check out Mark and Jolee’s adventures in Istanbul and beyond.  Their observations of their so-far three years in Turkey are detailed, thought-provoking, critical in the best sense of the word and just plain fascinating.  Most recently, they have been in Beirut, Lebanon, the “Paris of the Middle East” (click here to read about it) where they successfully negotiated a red-tape limbo-land that would send even the most of intrepid trekkers into a worry zone, if you ask me.  They are my inspiration.

2) Amargi Istanbul Blog:  Written by the Amargi Feminist Collective based in Istanbul – I find it to be a wonderful English-language resource on feminism in Turkey.  The women at Amargi address their personal constructions of feminism, the challenges that feminism faces in Turkey and about the gaps that exist between some feminists groups in the country.  Keep going, Amargi!

3) Culture Every Day:  I hope you will enjoy Justine’s musings on all aspects of culture from an anthropologist and world traveler who is also on a Turkish-American marital roadtrip (to  use my own parlance!).  Right now, my favorite post is one that addresses common questions she gets about her experiences visiting Turkish family in Turkey (click here to check it out!). She’s been on hiatus as of late, but I miss her blog, and hope that this Liebster will encourage her to come back soon!

4) Mozzarella Mamma: Deadlines, Diapers and the Dolce Vita:  About an American journalist-Mamma living in Roma (full disclosure – she’s my sister).  I love all of her blog posts – but as she knows – those with the strongest “red thread” ;) are my fave – especially “Mozzarella Mamma vs. Tiger Mamma” or her more recent posing on Mediterranean Men in which a t-shirt proclaiming “Viva La Mamma” figures prominently. Check her out!

5) Keepin’ My Head Above Water:  Check out my friend and colleague, MamiNgwa, who blogs on her life as a mother-wife-professor-community member.  As one half of a Cameroonian-American marriage, I see MamiNgwa as doing her part for the documentation of modern day women’s social history in the United States.  May her blog someday be resident in the famous Schlesinger Library’s women’s social history collection (they have a fabulous collection of cookbooks through the ages that have been used to understand more about women’s lives).  I loved her post about the Million Moms Challenge – and her critique/embrace of International Women’s Day.  MamiNgwa is also in process on an important study about womens’ experiences with ectopic pregnancies – and is actively looking for study participants (click here to read more about that or take the survey located here).

____________

Also, I see from some googling around that people also post 5 unexpected things about themselves…in order not to compete with my reflections from winning the Versatile Blogger Award (thanks again to Perking the Pansies and Walking Papers), here you go:

1) I worked as a social worker in a public defender office (public criminal lawyers) in the South Bronx – and the experience never left me.  It informs every aspect of my academic scholarship and teaching graduate-level public sector social workers.  You can read more about The Bronx Defenders here.

2) In high school, I signed up for a hiking trip in place of being tortured in required gym courses (e.g. aerobics for this very discombobulated self),  As part of our training for a 7-day hike in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, I won a prize for being the first to make a fire in the pouring rain.  My Dad’s northern Maine training school worked wonders each summer!  The trick was to find dry kindling underneath the wet leaves in the forest, and start small, building it bigger as I went.

3) I can find my way around the Kapalı Çarşı (Grand Bazaar) in Istanbul better than my Istanbullu husband (per his report) due to what he terms my “internal GPS.”  This is also likely due to the northern Maine training sessions in which my Dad would lead me (and my little sister) blindfolded into the woods and let us go with nothing but a compass and the task to “get home.” It wasn’t until years later that he told me he was about 20 yards away, following us to make sure we did not get lost. That’s love, on both counts.

4) On and off during high school and college, I cleaned people’s houses and worked as a bucket-scrubber/flower prepper in a local florist.  Once, my Unitarian-Congregationalist minister hired me to help with cleaning a local woman’s home.  This woman suffered from a major mental illness and kept all of her animals in the house  along with her husband and children.  Although I did not revel in the weekly mess I had before me in that house, I give thanks to my early exposure to this woman’s reality.  Because of this, I wasn’t so afraid about the idea of working with people with serious and persistent mental illnesses in my later career as a forensic social worker.  We are all humans, after all.
5) As a committed scholar in the area of disability services research and disability studies, I am eager to learn more about disability-related matters in Turkey.  I would love to meet and talk with Şafak Pavey, who has recently been bestowed with the International Women of Courage Award.  To me, she embodies the social model of disability in the most straightforward way.
So, may these little nuggets of truth about me inform you in some way that explains how I got to the writing of this blog – or some of what you see in it!
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