BOOK
http://lightmillennium.org
NURI’s DONKEY:
An American
Bride in a Turkish Village
"When Allah wants a pauper to be happy
First he makes him lose his donkey
Then he lets him find it"
by Emily BUNKER
A lost donkey and a
collection of stories don’t appear to have much in common.But the joy of finding each of them
lies in the renewed appreciation for something vital that perhaps was taken for
granted. For his livelihood’s
sake, a pauper mustn’t lose his donkey; for humanity’s sake, we mustn’t lose
our desire to listen to – and recognize ourselves in – the voices
of others. Nuri’s Donkey takes readers to a remote village in Turkey, where
they will discover funny, bittersweet, and stranger-than-fiction tales about
people who are not so different after all.
In 1982 I went to
this village with my then-husband, Fikri, to meet my in-laws.I was the first American, and the first
Turkish-speaking foreigner, the villagers had ever seen. I had an academic interest in being
there as well: as a recent Stanford University graduate in anthropology, I
looked forward to putting my lessons to use. My beginning Turkish would have to suffice because they
spoke no English.
The village leapt
into view as we rounded the last bend in the narrow mountain road. Adobe houses and barns, still without
electricity or plumbing, overlooked a scenic marshland. Fruit and nut trees dotted the
landscape. Fountains of pure, delicious spring water flowed to the fields and gardens by way of irrigation
channels.
Each day the villagers lined up anew to stare and ask me questions. My mother- and sisters-in-law, feeling
obliged to protect me, would try to shoo them all away. I understood their curiosity, but this
made me very nervous!
Four-year-old Yücel was the only child brave enough to approach me; chattering nonstop, he
followed me everywhere and cried whenever his mother took him home. Again and again Yücel would declare, “Your eyes are green, your hair is
white.” One day he asked Fikri if
he could keep me in exchange for a toy truck.
I was sometimes
caught off-guard by the village’s unwritten rules. No one had told me, for instance, that a bride is supposed
to remain silent with her father-in-law until he formally gives her permission
to speak to him. Nuri, my father-in-law, was asking me
questions and making me laugh from the moment we met, so I couldn’t have
followed this rule even if I’d known it! He had dispensed with that piece of etiquette because he wanted to get
to know me and listen to my fractured Turkish. Besides, he was a practical and somewhat rebellious man who
apparently thought the custom was a waste of time.
Some conventions, on the other hand, could not be avoided. Dinnertime was often challenging because of the variety of ways to say no,
thank you.
Politeness requires you never to accept something the first time it is offered, so intonation (are you implying yes, please, or do you actually mean what you say?) is critical. I eventually learned how to convey such subtleties. I think I achieved honorary villager status one evening when I offered some leftover food to Yusuf, one of my brothers-in-law. He instinctively said, “No, thanks.” “Please have a little more,”I replied. Catching on, Yusuf helped me stretch the game to the breaking point. He demurred – I insisted – back and forth a couple more rounds –
until finally I won!
Everyone was
intrigued by my journal.
“Be sure
to include how hard I’m working,” my sister-in-law Nazmiye said with a wink as
she swept the floor nearby.
My
introduction to the village ended with a suitcase full of exquisite handmade
gifts, a bag of apples and walnuts, and a written account of my adventure: the
starting point for
Nuri’s Donkey. As we drove back over the narrow
mountain road, I could see my new family watching us disappear into the morning
fog.
About Emily Bunker:
Emily Bunker grew up
dancing and riding horses in the San Francisco Bay Area. After high school she joined a Turkish and
Balkan folkdance performing group; three years later she traveled to Turkey to
study its folklore, focusing primarily on the dances of the Black Sea
region. Upon her return she met her
future Turkish husband, who comes from the village described in her book
Nuri’s Donkey.
Emily attended
Stanford University, graduating with a degree in anthropology.
She has worked as a teaching assistant
for developmentally disabled children, a dance teacher and choreographer, and
an SAT prep tutor.
She is now a
writer/editor, and is the owner of Brewster Editing Services.
Besides
Nuri’s Donkey, she is the author of
Secret Rules of the SAT Game and Jet Black Cat.
A single mother of
two beautiful half-Turkish daughters, Emily lives in Brewster, Massachusetts.
www.emilybunker.com
- NURİ’NİN EŞEĞİ (in Turkish) on ISIKBINYILI.ORG
http://www.isikbinyili.org/docView.php?d=article&id=152
