So bayram, as they call the holidays here, is over. Three days of eating, kissing hands and visits to family and friends, people seem to love it but I’m happy I’m not really part of it. The children are rather generous with kissing the hands of their parents, aunts and uncles, adult brothers and sisters, and, well, everybody who has something to offer. ‘Something’ meaning sweets or money. Last year I didn’t have any sweets to offer, so disappointed the few kids that came to ring my bell to wish me a good bayram and hold out their hands. This year I was prepared: my love and I bought lollipops and some sort of sticky soft sweets, and we hung the bag close to the front door so we could easily grab it when the door-bell rang. What happened? It rang only once! It was two girls, and they asked: ‘Can we take the whole bag?’ ‘No!’, I said, ‘there will be other kids coming so I have to save something for them, don’t I?’ But did they in fact come? No, they didn’t! Did they remember from last year that the yabanci (foreigner) didn’t have sweets? Are they not allowed to take sweets from yabanci’s? That’s nonsense of course, but still, I was puzzled. Well, anyway, I put the lollipops and sticky things in my bag when I went out, and luckily saw Emine, the girl next door. Yes, I was going to make her happy! ‘Emine, I bought lots of bayram sweets, but not many children came. Do you want the rest of my sweets so you can share them with your friends?’ What did Emine say? No! She said she had already had enough sweets in the last three days! Ridiculous! So here we are, left with a bag of lollipops and sticky stuff. Anybody want one?