The owner's of the house we'll be moving into one week from tomorrow are preparing to leave their neighborhood of six years. They are Cemil and Sharlene Carki, plus children Melissa (2 yrs) and Emma (5 mos).
Sharlene and Baby Emma
Cemil was born in Istanbul and met Sharlene, a Kiwi, while she was working as a nanny in Turkey. He says Istanbul is the best city in the world, but he also loves Dunedin. He did, however, raise an eyebrow when his new father-in-law first showed him an "old" Dunedin building from 1850.
We will rent the Carki's home for a year, after which they will likely sell it.
The Party
Liz and Russell are the Carki's next-door neighbors and are not altogether pleased to be loosing them. In fact, it seems the neighborhood is in uproar, considering the Carki's host Friday night drinks and BBQ, rent out two of their rooms to Asian exchange students, and look after six-year old Hazel after school. How will we live up?
Anyway, to help ease the transition, the Carki's decided to throw one last Friday night BBQ and invite us and all their neighbors and friends. I daresay, it was a bit nerve-wracking to be brought over for inspection before a pack of angry neighbors, but I brought a huge pot of Texas chili, along with a bouquet of flowers, and mustered up my best charms.
It took about 37 seconds for me to feel at home. As I staggered in with my steel pot, I was swallowed into the kitchen full of bustling people. Sharlene placed my flowers into a carved wooden vase that Cemil had brought back from Turkey that morning.
Next I wandered outside where more people were sitting around an outdoor heater. Having been tricked by the sunny day, I had only a light cardigan, and Sharlene had to wrap me in her full-length thick black wool sweater.
Jeremy talks to Martin, another neighbor.
Russell (the next-door neighbor) is Australian, and has the energy level of a kangaroo. I tried to keep up with his comedy routine through the evening, but toward the end, I think he had me cross-eyed with a frozen half-cocked laugh on my face. Here he is running around barefoot holding a child while simultaneously photographing a toddler with one hand. This was typical for the evening.
UAPs (Unidentified Animal Parts) on a Grill
(Actually, it was pretty good.)
(Actually, it was pretty good.)
Cemil photos Russell slicing links, while Bob looks on.
After dinner, there were toasts and stories, speeches and hugs. The last toast involved Johnny Walker, and I had the misfortune of being seated next to Russell and his shot glasses. I agreed to taste it. "Yes, exactly, taste it," he nodded, as he filled my glass to the rim. So I tasted it--wet my tongue on it would be a better description--shook my head, and handed it straight back. Something between fermented tree bark and rust of paint can. Hopefully he wasn't too offended. Just then, young Melissa toddled past, sipping a small glass of amber fluid. Robin, sitting on my other side, nearly had a heart attack before leaping up to grab the glass from Melissa, until Sharlene calmly informed her it was apple juice.
Russell was the inspiration for most of the eloquent apologies offered to us throughout the evening. "If you find him sitting on your front porch when you come home," Sharlene advised, "just ignore him. ...In fact, we were thinking: if we could rig up a rope ladder for you on the other side of the house, you might climb in unnoticed." However, Russell insists that all the world's problems are solved sitting with Cemil on the porch gazing out over the bay, and Jeremy is looking forward to assuming this role. In actuality, we both quite liked Russell, and we know we're lucky to have such friendly neighbors and such a welcome. Liz, his wife, is very sweet and is a nurse. Apparently she's also a legendary cook, and we've already agreed that Jeremy will fix her computer problems, and she will cook.
The chili was a big hit, by the way; although, they couldn't quite understand that you would eat this out of a bowl, and not over rice.
