Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Young Turks

Winding down from the dog days of summer, it becomes time to devote some energy to some extra yard chores in the moderating temperatures.  This Saturday, after mowing the lawn, I pull out my pruning hook combination limb saw, and begin trimming off the multitude of sucker branches that are sprouting from major limbs of the ash trees in the front yard.  I have just begun lopping off limbs and pulling them to the curb when the young boys from next door come out to ride their bikes up and down the sidewalk.  My pile of cut branches across the sidewalk is impeding their bike activities, so I begin moving them out of the way.  As the 9-year old pauses, I invite him to come and pull the lanyard that operates the pruning hook and cut off a small branch.  It is a thrill to cut and make things topple by the pull of your hand, and so I select another pruning target. We repeat the process.  We introduce ourselves, I am Mark, and he is Tahrir, from Istanbul.

Tahrir is eager to scoop up the the fallen foliage and pile it up for pick-up by the city's bulky item removal service come Wednesday.  He darts into his house, then back out.  He come and asks me if I like chocolate?  I say, why yes, it is one of my favorites.  He smiles and darts back inside his door.  He then comes out and tells me I am soon to have a cake from his mother who is making a chocolate cake.  

I tell him, if is all right with his mother, I will take him into my back yard and show him our tortoises. We go through the back gate, and he sees Chomper grazing.  "Oh! Ninja Turtles!  I love Ninja Turtles!  We find a dandelion and feed it to Chomper.  Soon I get a piece of warm chocolate cake from Kubrah.

Tahrir and I are now friends, greeting one another enthusiastically when we both happen to be outside.

Next week, when I see Tahrir, he consults with me about my culinary tastes, and then darts back inside.  Reappearing shortly with cookies.  Then a few days later, the same process, only I an invited to his door, where Kubrah then presents me with two bowls of a Turkish pudding, I am told that the recipe came from Noah himself after the floodwaters drained off the earth.

One following Saturday morning as I sit on my back patio, I hear a clambering on the wooden fence.  Tahrir pokes his head over, "Hi Mark!  What are you doing?"  I tell him I am reloading the weed whacker whipper wire on my machine.  Again, a question regarding the culinary tastes.  After I finish trimming the front lawn, Tahrir comes to my door and has a plate of small pancakes with nuts and fruit.  I thank him and his mother for feeding me so well.


Saturday Breakfast, courtesy of my neighbor Tahrir and his mother.

Tahrir and his younger brother, Fhati, have homemade Halloween costumes of cardboard masks and are out parading around their yard as I set up my foyer for Halloween night.  I ask Tahrir, what is your brother's name?  After a short pause, I am told, "His name is 'Strong Zombie'". 

Sue bakes a loaf of pumpkin bread, and we bring it by to young Turks and their parents.  It is the least we can do as neighbors.