Mustafa the Parent vs Murat the Terrible
It seemed that the gradually becoming tangible air in the hostel’s dining-hall crowded with variegated multitude of international students united by aspiration to learn the Turkish language would metamorphose and turn into the fire being unable to endure the ardor of the monstrous burst of anger, the vigorous explosion of righteous indignation, in the epicenter of which I found myself crossly giving cutting remarks and sarcastic comments on the wordy storm breaking out in immediate proximity to me. Storm in a teacup. “It is absolutely unacceptable behavior! You must radically change your course at once otherwise you will be sent to your homelands without even having a possibility to justify your actions! Try to understand, you are in Turkey at the moment! Turkey!!! Not you own country anymore! And you are supposed to show all due respect to the local traditions even if they do differ from those you are used to!” – Murat Bey was shouting deafeningly and monotonously making audience totally indifferent to his ardent speech evidently suffering from the lack of politeness and sense. As for the reason for all these furious accusations and threats, it was “immoral and defiant” behavior of a couple from Lithuania who dared to walk with a lad keeping his arm on the shoulders of his girl-friend and even were so bold to kiss staying by night near the entrance of our hostel under the branchy tree and being sure about their privacy…
“Indeed, it was at least unpredictable.” I thought being actually shocked by slightly unusual “kind” of secular democracy normally attributed to the Turkish Republic.
“Definitely, he is a peculiar one.” I stated nicely endeavoring not to exceed the bounds of correctness when 15 minutes after Murat Bey`s impressive performance my immoral friends and me suddenly happened to become casual observers of a touching sight. It was a twosome – not our imported gavoorious Baltic sinners, but genuine locals for this once – sitting serenely on the bench right behind the hence of the palisade that effectively fortified our hostel of loudly (literally loudly) declared purity. The pair included a devout Turkish lass hiding from the public her hair covered in a bright and colorful headscarf and…her modest boy-friend intrepidly and tenderly embracing his beloved without showing any visible signs of anxiety about being condemned and punished for violating adopted code of conduct…
“Well, their notorious “gelenekler” (Turkish equivalent for traditions) appear to be utterly diverse, though! An unexampled originality, I presume!” – I couldn’t help celebrating the obvious propriety of my being caustic and pronounced the word “gelenekler” in imitation of Murat Bey the Terrible.
