The time for lemons

Next to the truck a boy is polishing lemons with a cloth. Then he puts them in a plastic bag. For his mother I suppose. A bit further on an elderly man bites into a lemon. Whether his face grimaces or not, I can’t see very well from a distance, but actually I don’t think so. These few lemons were taken from tubs that are carried from caves and loaded on to trucks and will soon be on their way to markets all over the country. Maybe next week I’ll be buying one of them myself at the market in Üsküdar. This weekend I’m in Ortahisar, a village in Kapadokya. I felt like doing nothing for a few days and being taken care of, and that’s exactly what I get at the family home of my beloved (who is doing his military service at the time so is not joining me). From the balcony there’s a good view over the village. Ortahisar’s main income is from underground caves that are used to store fruit and vegetables grown in the south of Turkey and that cannot, for economic reasons, be put on the market all at the same time. In Ortahisar the produce stays in the ever cool caves for a few months until the market conditions are right. And now apparently is the time for lemons. There’ are small trucks everywhere, the gates that close the entrances to the caves are opened, men carry piles of tubs from the caves to the trucks. In the meantime, the sun goes down and even though I have lived in this region for a few months, I’m still impressed by the colours produced by the setting sun on the strangely shaped rocks. But I can’t stay on the balcony and look at it for too long. Dinner is ready.