WINTER WONDERLAND

This is a story of a one little Californian who journeyed to a place called Balıkesir, Turkey and encountered a phenomenon she had never experienced before— a thing called winter. Sure, she had hiked through some snow and visited the fabled East Coast in the dead of slushy February a few times in years past, but winter had never been quite so close to her backyard.

Then one night, she witnessed snow falling softly on her way home from work, and went to bed with this sight out her window:

Only to wake up to this:

Literally overnight the surrounding city had been thrown into the dead of winter, and the poor girl had no idea what to do. Luckily she had caring roommates— all East-coasters well-versed in the art of winter— who patiently undertook teaching her how to function in the snow. Roommates who asked insightful questions like, “Is this made of wool or polyester?” when she attempted to pick out winter clothes, and who lent her functional boots when she realized her shoes were as unprepared as she was.

The girl was also blessed with sweet students, like those in her adult night class who advised her where to buy Turkish Winter Tea and who brought her beautiful woolen gloves from the handmade market. 

And slowly but surely the girl started to learn important life skills for the long days ahead— like how to walk over ice without falling on her face, how to layer and unlayer and relayer and unlayer clothes, and most importantly, how to enjoy the beauty of the snow.

Now at peace with the weather outside, she is (almost) fully prepared to hunker down and spend the cold dreary days crocheting yet another hat or scarf and drinking delicious salep (imagine hot Turkish horchata) next to their tiny fake Christmas tree*. Happily ever after.   

*Said Christmas tree was found tucked into the back of the water-heater closet— one of the many mysterious items left over from past Fulbrighters. Its lone decoration is a strand of glittery thread from the yarn nook we frequent alongside a billion other Turkish teyzes. The saleswoman was sweet enough to give it to us for free because she was so confused about why we were attempting to buy only 3 metres of yarn.