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Birkibrisli's Cyprus dairy...My first 17 years in 7 days...

Feel free to talk about anything that you want.

Postby BirKibrisli » Mon Dec 17, 2007 7:42 am

humanist wrote::):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):) now whose falling off their sit in laughter :):):):):):):):):)


Birk
These store rooms were out of bounds for us.Hence they were magical,mysterious places. Like the caves in Ali Baba and 40 Thieves,they were irresistable ,and we'd sneak in at every opportunity to look for treasures and delights hidden in the various earthenware jars of all sizes. Jars full of wallnuts,almonds,dried figs and prunes,olives,carob syrub (pekmez),hellim(halloumi),and our favourite snacks,sucuk made of grape juice and wallnuts, and Paluze...These were all our own produce,harvested and prepared by Grandpa's "share farmers"...


Are you sure your a Turkish speaking Cypriot Birk, because I swear it sounds just like my grandpas place and us kids visiting them. I get it if your a Cypriot child in Cyprus prior to 1974 your likely to share similar lifestyle and storis to go with it. I guess its all about being CYPRIOT.


Yep...you got it, Andreas. It was all part and parcel of being a Cypriot!
8) 8)
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Postby denizaksulu » Mon Dec 17, 2007 9:53 am

Birkibrisli wrote:
karma wrote:
="denizaksulu
What a remarkable village, where cooks lay eggs! :lol: :lol: This guys in love :lol:


I will have to agree with you Deniz coz in same village the chooks are giving birth (dogurmak) instead of laying eggs (yumurtlamak) :lol:
He is surely in love...what a lucky girl :D


Okey you ,smart arses!!!

In Cyprus chooks lay eggs (yumurta dogururlar- literally,give birth to eggs),and some cooks too I am sure!!! :D

In Turkey chooks lay eggs (yumurtlarlar-literally they make eggs).
I am not sure what cooks do in Turkey. Most probably they also yumurtlarlar! :lol: What are you two going to "yumurtlamak " now???

For non- Turkish speakers, "yumurtlamak" colloquially means 'coming out with a silly remark'.. :lol:


Alright, clever dik, :lol: to be exact
dogurmak = when giving birth to a young offspring.
An egg is not a young off-spring. It needs its incubation period and hatching to become a young one.

Birds, reptiles and amphibians etc 'yumurtlarlar = lay eggs.

Mind you I never used the term 'yumurtlamak' till I went to the town.

So I say you both are right, right? :lol: :lol:

Selamlar yegen
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Postby BirKibrisli » Mon Dec 17, 2007 11:15 am

denizaksulu wrote:
Birkibrisli wrote:
karma wrote:
="denizaksulu
What a remarkable village, where cooks lay eggs! :lol: :lol: This guys in love :lol:


I will have to agree with you Deniz coz in same village the chooks are giving birth (dogurmak) instead of laying eggs (yumurtlamak) :lol:
He is surely in love...what a lucky girl :D


Okey you ,smart arses!!!

In Cyprus chooks lay eggs (yumurta dogururlar- literally,give birth to eggs),and some cooks too I am sure!!! :D

In Turkey chooks lay eggs (yumurtlarlar-literally they make eggs).
I am not sure what cooks do in Turkey. Most probably they also yumurtlarlar! :lol: What are you two going to "yumurtlamak " now???

For non- Turkish speakers, "yumurtlamak" colloquially means 'coming out with a silly remark'.. :lol:


Alright, clever dik, :lol: to be exact
dogurmak = when giving birth to a young offspring.
An egg is not a young off-spring. It needs its incubation period and hatching to become a young one.

Birds, reptiles and amphibians etc 'yumurtlarlar = lay eggs.

Mind you I never used the term 'yumurtlamak' till I went to the town.

So I say you both are right, right? :lol: :lol:

Selamlar yegen


Sure ...We are both right. But I expect you to be on my (the Cypriot) side,not on karma's (the mainland Turkish) side...Is it because I am not as pretty as she is??? :wink: :lol: :lol:
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Postby denizaksulu » Mon Dec 17, 2007 11:31 am

Birkibrisli wrote:
denizaksulu wrote:
Birkibrisli wrote:
karma wrote:
="denizaksulu
What a remarkable village, where cooks lay eggs! :lol: :lol: This guys in love :lol:


I will have to agree with you Deniz coz in same village the chooks are giving birth (dogurmak) instead of laying eggs (yumurtlamak) :lol:
He is surely in love...what a lucky girl :D


Okey you ,smart arses!!!

In Cyprus chooks lay eggs (yumurta dogururlar- literally,give birth to eggs),and some cooks too I am sure!!! :D

In Turkey chooks lay eggs (yumurtlarlar-literally they make eggs).
I am not sure what cooks do in Turkey. Most probably they also yumurtlarlar! :lol: What are you two going to "yumurtlamak " now???

For non- Turkish speakers, "yumurtlamak" colloquially means 'coming out with a silly remark'.. :lol:


Alright, clever dik, :lol: to be exact
dogurmak = when giving birth to a young offspring.
An egg is not a young off-spring. It needs its incubation period and hatching to become a young one.

Birds, reptiles and amphibians etc 'yumurtlarlar = lay eggs.

Mind you I never used the term 'yumurtlamak' till I went to the town.

So I say you both are right, right? :lol: :lol:

Selamlar yegen


Sure ...We are both right. But I expect you to be on my (the Cypriot) side,not on karma's (the mainland Turkish) side...Is it because I am not as pretty as she is??? :wink: :lol: :lol:



I take no sides except the side of the right, as I said you both are right. :lol: The lady is correct , because her Turkish is 'near' perfect, you are correct , as you have used the Cypriot version. Not easily satisfied are you BK :lol: I think I've done enough mediation here. :lol: :lol:
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Postby Tim Drayton » Mon Dec 17, 2007 11:59 am

Birkibrisli wrote:
karma wrote:
="denizaksulu
What a remarkable village, where cooks lay eggs! :lol: :lol: This guys in love :lol:


I will have to agree with you Deniz coz in same village the chooks are giving birth (dogurmak) instead of laying eggs (yumurtlamak) :lol:
He is surely in love...what a lucky girl :D


Okey you ,smart arses!!!

In Cyprus chooks lay eggs (yumurta dogururlar- literally,give birth to eggs),and some cooks too I am sure!!! :D

In Turkey chooks lay eggs (yumurtlarlar-literally they make eggs).
I am not sure what cooks do in Turkey. Most probably they also yumurtlarlar! :lol: What are you two going to "yumurtlamak " now???

For non- Turkish speakers, "yumurtlamak" colloquially means 'coming out with a silly remark'.. :lol:


Thanks, mate. I did not know this idiomatic use of the verb "yumurtlamak". I have checked it in the Türk Dil Kurumu dictionary and it is indeed given as meaning number 2. I won't forget it.
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Postby BirKibrisli » Mon Dec 17, 2007 12:36 pm

BirKibrisli wrote:Downstairs at street level we had the kitchen,the dinning room,the bathroom and the various store rooms where Grandma reigned supreme.
These store rooms were out of bounds for us.Hence they were magical,mysterious places. Like the caves in Ali Baba and 40 Thieves,they were irresistable ,and we'd sneak in at every opportunity to look for treasures and delights hidden in the various earthenware jars of all sizes. Jars full of wallnuts,almonds,dried figs and prunes,olives,carob syrub (pekmez),hellim(halloumi),and our favourite snacks,sucuk made of grape juice and wallnuts, and Paluze...These were all our own produce,harvested and prepared by Grandpa's "share farmers"...

In the open courtyard, infront of the woodfire bread oven, there was a large concrete pool for pressing grapes.Tons of grapes,both black and white, were brought in from our vineyards and pressed by workers in the old fashioned way: by their bare feet. Sometimes,if we were good,we were allowed to get in on the action.It was lots of fun stomping on squashy grapes which sometimes came upto our knees. There was one occupational hazard however. Bees...They'd decend upon the grape pool in their tens and twenties,and it was impossible to avoid getting stung at least once during a session. But it was all worth it. I remember many nights getting into Grandpa's bed with an eye or an ear or a finger swollen
to gigantic proportions,and having difficulty sleeping due to the terrible itching. The smell of the homemade grape vinegar used to treat our wounds is still very much in my sense-memory...

My older sister B. has a special place in my life. She was only 18 months when I was born. Mother swears that B. spoke her first full sentence when she was 3-months old. Every day at the same time Mother used to pick up B. and go and check if the chooks had laid their eggs. They would pick up any they found and brought them inside.This went on for weeks and weeks till one day,being a particularly busy day,Mother forgot about the eggs. Rushing about getting her chores done she was distracted by sounds coming form B's cot. She could not believe what she was hearing.
B.,at 3-months old,kept repeating this like a broken record : "Anne...acaba tavuklar dogurdu mu?" ("Mum...have the cooks laid their eggs")...

By the time I was born B.was walking and talking like a 3-year old. She was apparently extremely jealous of me. After her various atempts to murder me failed (setting me on fire,sitting on my face etc) she ran away from home at age 2 and-a-half and refused to come back till I was sent away to where I had come from. This went on for a few days and Grandma (whose house across the road she had sought shelter in) had to tell a lie to make B. come home. She told her I was found at the local rubbish tip,and it was Allah's wish that I be looked after. Not only did she come home,but she proceeded to become a second mother to me,making sure that I was safe and sound when Mother was busy elsewhere...



According to Mother B. almost failed to make it into this world alive...
In our part of Cyprus,in those days,most births took place at home in the village. Midwives,mostly of GC background,delivered the babies without much fuss. Only when the birth was complicated would the mother-to-be be taken to hospital in Polis. B. was mother's first delivery hence she was very nervous. In fact everybody was very nervous,including Father who couldnt face it when the time came. In came the Midwife,and out went Father on his motorbike,riding around aimlessly to calm his nerves...

It was a difficult birth and the labour took an awful lot out of Mother.
Andromahi,the GC widwife from the neighbouring Lysos (Liso) did her best,but her best was not good enough. When on the second day of labour the baby failed to materialise Grandpa went in to investigate.
He was particularly nervous because there were rumours that GC midwives were under instruction from the GC doctors not to deliver the Turkish Cypriot babies,but to transport the mothers-to-be to the hospital in Polis where the doctors would make sure the TC babies would not be born alive. There was no substance to this story of course,but a few births from the neighbouring villages had gone wrong at the hospital in Polis recently,so Grandpa was in a state of panic. Seeing her daughter had started to go green in the face,he grabbed one of the shotguns off the wall and put it to the hapless midwife's head. "Make that baby come out," he bellowed, " or your brain will come out instead". Andromahi who had been trying to tell people for some time that the baby was in a breech position and she could not turn it around,broke down in tears. "You can shoot me if you like, but that will not deliver the baby. We need to take them to the hospital"...


So Father got onto his motorbike and went to the nearby Lysos to fetch one of the few cars available in the region. When the car arrived Mother and the Midwife were bundled into the back seat,and carrying his shotgun,Grandpa took his place in the front passenger seat. "We are not going to the hospital in Polis," he decreed. "They kill babies there. Drive us to the hospital in Paphos town. And make it fast. If anything happens to my daughter,I will kill you both on the spot..."

So,after what must've been one of the most surreal car rides in Cyprus history,Mother made it to the hospital in Paphos where Dr Dalaridis worked his magic and delivered B. in nick of time apparently for both mother and daugther. "Surely he was bluffing," I asked Mother when she told me this story, " He wasn't going to kill them, was he?"
"I am afraid he was," Mother replied. "He was convinced the rumours were true. He really thought GC doctors and midwives were killing TC babies..." "And what did you believe?" I asked her. "If I believed that I wouldn't bring Andromahi to deliver you,would I?" was her reply...


(to be continued...)
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Postby BirKibrisli » Mon Dec 17, 2007 3:25 pm

Birkibrisli wrote:
BirKibrisli wrote:Downstairs at street level we had the kitchen,the dinning room,the bathroom and the various store rooms where Grandma reigned supreme.
These store rooms were out of bounds for us.Hence they were magical,mysterious places. Like the caves in Ali Baba and 40 Thieves,they were irresistable ,and we'd sneak in at every opportunity to look for treasures and delights hidden in the various earthenware jars of all sizes. Jars full of wallnuts,almonds,dried figs and prunes,olives,carob syrub (pekmez),hellim(halloumi),and our favourite snacks,sucuk made of grape juice and wallnuts, and Paluze...These were all our own produce,harvested and prepared by Grandpa's "share farmers"...

In the open courtyard, infront of the woodfire bread oven, there was a large concrete pool for pressing grapes.Tons of grapes,both black and white, were brought in from our vineyards and pressed by workers in the old fashioned way: by their bare feet. Sometimes,if we were good,we were allowed to get in on the action.It was lots of fun stomping on squashy grapes which sometimes came upto our knees. There was one occupational hazard however. Bees...They'd decend upon the grape pool in their tens and twenties,and it was impossible to avoid getting stung at least once during a session. But it was all worth it. I remember many nights getting into Grandpa's bed with an eye or an ear or a finger swollen
to gigantic proportions,and having difficulty sleeping due to the terrible itching. The smell of the homemade grape vinegar used to treat our wounds is still very much in my sense-memory...

My older sister B. has a special place in my life. She was only 18 months when I was born. Mother swears that B. spoke her first full sentence when she was 3-months old. Every day at the same time Mother used to pick up B. and go and check if the chooks had laid their eggs. They would pick up any they found and brought them inside.This went on for weeks and weeks till one day,being a particularly busy day,Mother forgot about the eggs. Rushing about getting her chores done she was distracted by sounds coming form B's cot. She could not believe what she was hearing.
B.,at 3-months old,kept repeating this like a broken record : "Anne...acaba tavuklar dogurdu mu?" ("Mum...have the cooks laid their eggs")...

By the time I was born B.was walking and talking like a 3-year old. She was apparently extremely jealous of me. After her various atempts to murder me failed (setting me on fire,sitting on my face etc) she ran away from home at age 2 and-a-half and refused to come back till I was sent away to where I had come from. This went on for a few days and Grandma (whose house across the road she had sought shelter in) had to tell a lie to make B. come home. She told her I was found at the local rubbish tip,and it was Allah's wish that I be looked after. Not only did she come home,but she proceeded to become a second mother to me,making sure that I was safe and sound when Mother was busy elsewhere...



According to Mother B. almost failed to make it into this world alive...
In our part of Cyprus,in those days,most births took place at home in the village. Midwives,mostly of GC background,delivered the babies without much fuss. Only when the birth was complicated would the mother-to-be be taken to hospital in Polis. B. was mother's first delivery hence she was very nervous. In fact everybody was very nervous,including Father who couldnt face it when the time came. In came the Midwife,and out went Father on his motorbike,riding around aimlessly to calm his nerves...

It was a difficult birth and the labour took an awful lot out of Mother.
Andromahi,the GC widwife from the neighbouring Lysos (Liso) did her best,but her best was not good enough. When on the second day of labour the baby failed to materialise Grandpa went in to investigate.
He was particularly nervous because there were rumours that GC midwives were under instruction from the GC doctors not to deliver the Turkish Cypriot babies,but to transport the mothers-to-be to the hospital in Polis where the doctors would make sure the TC babies would not be born alive. There was no substance to this story of course,but a few births from the neighbouring villages had gone wrong at the hospital in Polis recently,so Grandpa was in a state of panic. Seeing her daughter had started to go green in the face,he grabbed one of the shotguns off the wall and put it to the hapless midwife's head. "Make that baby come out," he bellowed, " or your brain will come out instead". Andromahi who had been trying to tell people for some time that the baby was in a breech position and she could not turn it around,broke down in tears. "You can shoot me if you like, but that will not deliver the baby. We need to take them to the hospital"...


So Father got onto his motorbike and went to the nearby Lysos to fetch one of the few cars available in the region. When the car arrived Mother and the Midwife were bundled into the back seat,and carrying his shotgun,Grandpa took his place in the front passenger seat. "We are not going to the hospital in Polis," he decreed. "They kill babies there. Drive us to the hospital in Paphos town. And make it fast. If anything happens to my daughter,I will kill you both on the spot..."

So,after what must've been one of the most surreal car rides in Cyprus history,Mother made it to the hospital in Paphos where Dr Dalaridis worked his magic and delivered B. in nick of time apparently for both mother and daugther. "Surely he was bluffing," I asked Mother when she told me this story, " He wasn't going to kill them, was he?"
"I am afraid he was," Mother replied. "He was convinced the rumours were true. He really thought GC doctors and midwives were killing TC babies..." "And what did you believe?" I asked her. "If I believed that I wouldn't bring Andromahi to deliver you,would I?" was her reply...


(to be continued...)


For reasons I cannot explain,most of the health workers in Paphos area were GCs those days. Our family doctor since the 40s were Dr Herodotos,originally from the neighbouring village of Fyti (Fidi). He was a young graduate politically on the left. Doctors made house calls (or village calls!) those days and Dr Herodotos' mode of transport was the horse. Every month or so he'd turn up in Istinjo like a knight in shining armour. And if there was enough demand for his services he'd stay overnight at Grandpa's "guest house",free of charge. Grandpa had it built next to the main house especially to accommodate visiting officials like doctors,school inspectors,tax collectors,police officers etc...

Dr. Heredotos had a special relationship with our family. He apparently called Grandma "Anne" and Grandpa "Baba",and he was treated like a son in return. Mother says he saved my life on more than one ocassion.
Once when I was 1-year-old I had some throat infection which made my tonsils swell to a degree it became life threatening. On another ocassion when I was 5 or 6 years old I was given too much zivaniya by Grandpa who thought he was going to teach me a lesson by letting me get drunk.
I was soon suffering from alcohol poisoning,and had to be taken to Dr Herodotos' clinic in Polis for emergency treatment...


Mother recently told me a secret she kept for most of her life.
In mid-40s Dr.Heredotos officially asked for her hand in marriage. And she refused. I was intrigued. "Did Grandpa told you to refuse him because he was a GC?" "No,no..." Mother explained, " Father was all for it. But given the circumstances he left the decision totally up to me."
" And did you refuse because he was a GC?"
"No...I refused him because he wasn't handsome enough!"

Much later, at the height of the EOKA scare,Grandma fell very ill,and Mother accompanied her to Dr Heredotos' clinic in Polis. The good doctor said it was imperative that Grandma stayed in the hospital in Polis where he could treat her properly. But Grandma was too scared to be left alone in Polis. Realising this Dr Herodotos took Grandma to his own home and kept her there for 3 days till she was well enough to return to Istinjo...

(to be continued...)
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Postby BirKibrisli » Mon Dec 17, 2007 11:06 pm

Tim Drayton wrote:
Birkibrisli wrote:
karma wrote:
="denizaksulu
What a remarkable village, where cooks lay eggs! :lol: :lol: This guys in love :lol:


I will have to agree with you Deniz coz in same village the chooks are giving birth (dogurmak) instead of laying eggs (yumurtlamak) :lol:
He is surely in love...what a lucky girl :D


Okey you ,smart arses!!!

In Cyprus chooks lay eggs (yumurta dogururlar- literally,give birth to eggs),and some cooks too I am sure!!! :D

In Turkey chooks lay eggs (yumurtlarlar-literally they make eggs).
I am not sure what cooks do in Turkey. Most probably they also yumurtlarlar! :lol: What are you two going to "yumurtlamak " now???

For non- Turkish speakers, "yumurtlamak" colloquially means 'coming out with a silly remark'.. :lol:


Thanks, mate. I did not know this idiomatic use of the verb "yumurtlamak". I have checked it in the Türk Dil Kurumu dictionary and it is indeed given as meaning number 2. I won't forget it.


You are welcome,Tim.
Turkish is full of little subtleties,and I have great respect for anyone who manages to learn it well as a second language. Hope you are still enjoying the "dairy"... :)
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Postby halil » Tue Dec 18, 2007 9:53 am

Birkibrisli wrote:
Tim Drayton wrote:
Birkibrisli wrote:
karma wrote:
="denizaksulu
What a remarkable village, where cooks lay eggs! :lol: :lol: This guys in love :lol:


I will have to agree with you Deniz coz in same village the chooks are giving birth (dogurmak) instead of laying eggs (yumurtlamak) :lol:
He is surely in love...what a lucky girl :D


Okey you ,smart arses!!!

In Cyprus chooks lay eggs (yumurta dogururlar- literally,give birth to eggs),and some cooks too I am sure!!! :D

In Turkey chooks lay eggs (yumurtlarlar-literally they make eggs).
I am not sure what cooks do in Turkey. Most probably they also yumurtlarlar! :lol: What are you two going to "yumurtlamak " now???

For non- Turkish speakers, "yumurtlamak" colloquially means 'coming out with a silly remark'.. :lol:


Thanks, mate. I did not know this idiomatic use of the verb "yumurtlamak". I have checked it in the Türk Dil Kurumu dictionary and it is indeed given as meaning number 2. I won't forget it.


You are welcome,Tim.
Turkish is full of little subtleties,and I have great respect for anyone who manages to learn it well as a second language. Hope you are still enjoying the "dairy"... :)


Yes we are enjoying your dairy gardaş.

let and see it NE YUMURTLAYACAKSIN .
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Postby halil » Tue Dec 18, 2007 10:07 am

halil wrote:
Birkibrisli wrote:
Tim Drayton wrote:
Birkibrisli wrote:
karma wrote:
="denizaksulu
What a remarkable village, where cooks lay eggs! :lol: :lol: This guys in love :lol:


I will have to agree with you Deniz coz in same village the chooks are giving birth (dogurmak) instead of laying eggs (yumurtlamak) :lol:
He is surely in love...what a lucky girl :D


Okey you ,smart arses!!!

In Cyprus chooks lay eggs (yumurta dogururlar- literally,give birth to eggs),and some cooks too I am sure!!! :D

In Turkey chooks lay eggs (yumurtlarlar-literally they make eggs).
I am not sure what cooks do in Turkey. Most probably they also yumurtlarlar! :lol: What are you two going to "yumurtlamak " now???

For non- Turkish speakers, "yumurtlamak" colloquially means 'coming out with a silly remark'.. :lol:


Thanks, mate. I did not know this idiomatic use of the verb "yumurtlamak". I have checked it in the Türk Dil Kurumu dictionary and it is indeed given as meaning number 2. I won't forget it.


You are welcome,Tim.
Turkish is full of little subtleties,and I have great respect for anyone who manages to learn it well as a second language. Hope you are still enjoying the "dairy"... :)


Yes we are enjoying your dairy gardaş.

let and see it NE YUMURTLAYACAKSIN .
Image
Image


Gardaş Ne Yumurtlayacaksın means also :to let the cat out of the bag .
Aklındakı baklayı çıkart . Bunun arkasından ne gelecek .
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