April 16, 2009

• And then there were two

  There are still five toothbrushes in the toothbrush holder.

  There are still six pillows lying around.

  The ashtray is still full.

  But in the house, only me and him are left.

  The disarray the rooms are in reflect the haste in which they were abandoned. Photos, clothes, and notebooks full of Turkish to Japanese vocabulary are spilling out of drawers that were themselves pulled out of plastic rolling cabinets.

  I knew that when Suzan left things would be different. I knew there would be no one to cook meals or dust the TV or talk to when the boys weren’t home from work yet. I didn’t expect to feel the absence of Yasar so quickly though, considering he mostly just smoked and watched streaming Turkish dramas. But even he performed useful functions in the house, like refilling the water bottles at the supermarket when he was thirsty or eating the cheese before it went bad in the fridge.

  Selo and I have lived alone before, in my closet in Uguisudani and our comically oblong rented apartment in Aoi. But remembering how, just a few months ago, this house was full with five, sometimes six people, it just makes us sad.

  I remember helping Suzan set the table (er… floor) for dinner. We needed stacks of plates and bowls, a tray full of cups, and we had to wait for people to get home from work to set out the silverware, since we needed the spoons and forks from their lunchboxes in order for everyone to have a set. Suzan would pile rice onto plates and I would get to work on heating bread in the toaster, since as a group we needed more carbs than the mere 6 cups of rice the ricecooker could offer up. When everything was ready, Suzan would have me spread the sofra in the main room (where Selo and I sleep). Kemal and Selo would pull up to it immediately and would begin working on the food before I’d even poured the water for everyone. Yasar would need to be called once or twice before finally setting aside his computer but not without turning on some Kurdish music for the background. Vakkas would stay at his desk, working, until Suzan called Dayir!! five or six times. I remember it was noisy, fragrant, crowded, and mostly incomprehensible.

  Now I realize how little light we need when we only use one room at a time. The house is lit up in quadrants. Leave one room, turn off one light, turn on another. I made lahmajun, Turkish pizza, chopping up the vegetables and mixing them with ground lamb and spreading the mixture over the naan I made this weekend. They each get individually fire roasted in the gas stove, which takes about 4 minutes each. I made fourteen since I thought Yasar would still be here by the time we would eat them, but I guess Selo and I will have extra for lunch. It must have taken Suzan forever when she was making enough for a small army.

  When Selo got home from work we ate in the kitchen without silverware and discussed the toothbrushes. They’ll stay where they are for now.

  • 9:39 am
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