duck

finally thursday night after waiting for it to defrost from saturday night i cooked my christmas duck with brown rice liver stuffing... mostly it was a disaster. almost all fat. no meat. screwed up the gravy royally. couldn't cook my birthday cake and the duck too. watched a dutch french documentary on ducks geese and other migratory birds while it cooked.

didn't east all day. the stuffing in the bird busted the stitching. it was delicious with its tang candied lemon overwhelming almost all other tastes. didn't bother shelling pistachios. used cashews.

after that i discovered "pineapple express" on youtube. missing about 5 minutes: it's delight to watch james franco. his physical comedy is SO heterosexual. he's delicious but so much more muscled and beefy than he used to be in the spiderman movies.  it's hard to imagine he's got an IQ somewhere above the srtatosphere. the movie is so sophomoric that even watching him was enough to make it worthwhile put up with displays of male entitlement run amok.

if watching abdel with male friends hadn't given me the insight into men being men, i wouldn't have had the tolerance to sit through it. it took so long going through the less than ten minutes segments i ended up oversleeping prayers again. m. woke me up.

i was so disoriented from sleep. he came to get the money i promised him for his goalie gloves. we looked at gloves from germany on line, 200, 300, 500, 600 TL. 350-500 Euro. and upwards. i wanted so much just to buy him the best ones you could get but i restrained myself. but i couldn't stop myself from crying. gave h'm every penny i had in the house, 189TL 75kuruş. 

then he went home and slept till 8:30. never bought the gloves he needed more than anything. he came and we went shopping. i took a thousand from the ATM, and spent 250 at Onur. 50 or so for m. and also another 20TL for d's telephone.

explained to m that being in love means not wanting to abuse use exploit someone no matter how willing they are to be used. like when u stood before me hot and showered offering himself, and i pretended not to notice. a life of regrets.

my farewell goodnight sermon to him was on using a toothbrush, and other prophylactics as the need arises.

he wants me to teach him english. we'll see.

ayaklan istanbul #OWS

outside of and away from the old city walls, away from the bosphorous, away from the sea of marmara and its gulls and dolphins, istanbul, which grew from 1 million 60 years ago to more than 13 million today, immigrants from centuries past driven west by history, a city of grey and drab, a drear city of concrete and asphalt, traffic, exhaust, trash, and cookie cutter domed mosques unimaginatively executed. no parks.  minarets pointed up like sharp pencils waiting for something to write. modern megacity.
 

trees around us

all dressed in brown

occupy assembly in taksim

occupy istanbul. occupy taksim. occupy gazi park. gazi means warrior and veteran in turkish. ayaklan istanbul. one of the guys in the general assembly wearing a leather jacket with US Rte 66 on its sleeves and a shaved head is so cute i immediately fall into a revery about george maharis with whom i was so much in love as a teenager way back in tarrytown new york. he's the art expert calligrapher for the small group of die hards out here in a quiet corner of the park all talking animatedly in the cold sunny afternoon in the heart of the city, except for him who views me a smidgen suspiciously as i systematically record my impressions on my 8GB digital memory card with my canon EOS. his canon must have cost at least twice or three times more. i can't wait to see some of his work.

#OWS which is transforming American politics so radically that the USA is attacking its peaceful quiet clean colorful articulate protesters with sound canons mace and riot geared troops in uniform. spraying 100 year old leftist ladies with pepper spray, the mere fact that at that age, they still protest and still are leftists  strikes terror into the hearts of the 0.1%. quote from a tea bagger blog "boo hoo hoo... serves her right the filthy old communist bag", here in istanbul generated a back pages mention in one local newspaper and declared a flop, but it is still meeting well into cold december. mostly leftists. mostly oblivious to the 25 million inhabitants of greater istanbul. no threat yet. not even any plains clothes police anymore.

women, men, an american ESL instructor, a belgian professor of religion and her american student on their way to wintering over the in central mongolian desert, old fashioned leftists mostly, and by this time no more plain clothes police to outnumber us standing around to "make sure you're safe, and no crazies bother you."

we sit in a circle on little bits of sample carpet, drink tea served by a vendor hoisting a huge vacuum bottle, eating simit, turkish soft pretzels [i get a rush of rittenhouse square in december and plans to protest independence mall, but none of us hippies ever thought to bring along carpet to sit on] so many side conversations i can't follow them all. or they all stand, and i sit.

wintry sunset red glow

on animated faces

sidebar talk on alevi "fire worship"

i take pictures as long as there is any light and then by street light. turkish leftists: my friend is an ex merchant marine disagreeing with me on the central image of Alevi religious practice, the middle eastern tradition of lighting the new fire on Newroz, the new day, the first day of spring. [in a few more days its hanukkah, i recall, ever the new yorker ex-pat].

a half moon is already risen at sunset. tonight is Ashure. tenth of muharrem. middle eastern new year, commemorating moses' yom kippur, day of atonement, commemorating the assassination and martyrdom of hussein, the prophet's grandson who asks his assassins to let him die on Ashure, commemorating noah's leaving the ark and adam and eve's departure from paradise.

by nine o'clock, there's 3 people left in the general assembly. i make the motion and myself, nazmi and the american school teacher adjourn to a nearby simit shop to warm up with some tea and i take nazmi home in a taxi. over my little street the half moon with its tiny bulge is still high in the sky not yet set behind any neighbors' houses.

god speed #OWS.

wintry trees of gazi park

fiery red from street light

cold fingers scroll my camera