This is not the sea shore. It is the shore of the lake of Köyceğiz, a big lake connected by a strait with the sea.
It is an hour drive from our home, and once in a while we go there to have dinner. The charm of the place is that it is totally devoid of tourists, just the locals around. It has a sleepy, relaxing feeling, added by the fact that instead of tables and chairs, sofas have been aligned to form what looks like living rooms, cozy and inviting to lounge by the sunset.
P.S. this is a small elaboration on the last post (Bundle of joy):
Although people who know us better can imagine the spirit in which it was written, we got an anonymous comment accusing us of cruelty, and I feel that I may have offended some.
No cruelty was intended, certainly not by the mother. Traditions are inspired by necessity. Do you know that the agriculture in Turkey is mostly very primitive, and that is mainly done by women? Young mothers bring their babies with them to the fields, tied to their backs in those cribs, what are than hung from a tree, while the mother works. For the mother, keeping her baby immobile is keeping hem safe. And do you know that thousands of villages in Turkey don’t have any form of running water, what has to be brought, again by women, in jerry cans, often from a great distance? As has to be done with wood to heat the water? Diapers are not to be taken for granted.
In this spirit, of taking in consideration the ‘other-ness’ of the country, and, yes, seeing the humor in it, was that post written.
P.S. this is a small elaboration on the last post (Bundle of joy):
Although people who know us better can imagine the spirit in which it was written, we got an anonymous comment accusing us of cruelty, and I feel that I may have offended some.
No cruelty was intended, certainly not by the mother. Traditions are inspired by necessity. Do you know that the agriculture in Turkey is mostly very primitive, and that is mainly done by women? Young mothers bring their babies with them to the fields, tied to their backs in those cribs, what are than hung from a tree, while the mother works. For the mother, keeping her baby immobile is keeping hem safe. And do you know that thousands of villages in Turkey don’t have any form of running water, what has to be brought, again by women, in jerry cans, often from a great distance? As has to be done with wood to heat the water? Diapers are not to be taken for granted.
In this spirit, of taking in consideration the ‘other-ness’ of the country, and, yes, seeing the humor in it, was that post written.
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