Thanks to Laura and we miss you! Güçlü, Sultan, Zıpzıp, Akdeniz, Bıcır, Bıcırık, and 4 more unnamed.
SAY CHEESE!
But coralling goats into their proper feeding arrangements has nothing on our forest walks—-wherein i lead 9 goats into the woods for 3 hours, eat some leaves (i’ve tried a couple different kinds,) and all of us come out together, and alive.
For months now, people have been responding to my statement, “i’m moving to Turkey to work on a farm!” with this follow up question, “cool, what kind of farm? and what will you be doing on it?” to which i usually say something like, “I think it’s more like a hippie kibbutz. They have 10 goats, so i’ll be learning to make goats cheese for sure- they mostly farm produce for their own consumption, and they do nightly yoga.”
I was entirely right. Yet i couldn’t have been more wrong. I gotta hand it to myself on this one—it’s my nearsighted, naive, glass-is-overflowing-with-perfectly-sweet-lemonade-optimism that gets me in situations like this. It’s also what gets me in situations like this.
let me explain.
After gawking at the gorgous view, the huge, newly installed bathroom, the outdoor kitchen and the newest member of the family, Yamam, a 1-month old Kangol puppy, Buket said, “okay, let’s go set up your room and meet the goats!”
Next thing i knew i had both hands high in the air, one holding a huge club, making this incredibly awkward guteral sound “SHHHIK SHHICK SHIICK SHHICK”
My brain flashed the subliminal message: (*Oh Shit Laura, What Have You Done Now) “SHICK SHKKICK SHICKIKY,” another news flash (This is Awesome!) “SHICK SHKK SHHIKK,” news flash: (This is Horrifying)
I will infact learn how to make goats cheese—however it seems that i failed to fully comprehend exactly what it takes to get to the cheesing part. In order to squeeze the cheese, one must first spend two hours a day knee deep in goat shit. Three hours a day lost in the forest with the herd, and 8 hours each night listening to them roam around your bungalow.
Buket and Cem (pronounced Gem) have 9 goats—4 female and 5 male. Have you ever assisted your friend feed their 5 cats? The special diets, the mixing, the blending, the quarantining? THis is a very similar process—except that there are NINE of them, they’re huge, they’re hungry, and 5 of them have massive, pointy horns.
But coralling goats into their proper feeding arrangements has nothing on our forest walks—-wherein i lead 9 goats into the woods for 3 hours, eat some leaves (i’ve tried a couple different kinds,) and all of us come out together, and alive.
Buket and i took our forest adventure together the first day, where i learned somewhat effective commands like, “allay allay allay” and “gal-chicky, gal chicky, gal, gal, gal” and “CHA-CHA-CHA-CHA” (note, these are all phoenetical spellings, as i have no idea what she’s actually scringing (half scream half sing) Here is what i imagine the english equivalent to be in sentiment and in tone:
Goats are ornery, obstinate little buggers—and it takes a firm, (almost threatening hand/voice) and a lot of patience to get them to do what you want them to do. It’s a game of chess—you have to be three moves ahead—but make them think you’re 2 behind them. You also need to have a large stick at all times.
When Buket and I began to email one another, we spoke of the benefits of a longer stay—we agreed that if “a fit” we would work together for 2 months. I mentioned i would like to do some small excursions during this time—and I figured her and Cem would like a break as well.
After 1 day of goat-yodel training, and 2 days with mom and pop a phone call away, Cem and Buket handed over the keys to their palace. (Keys=lots of food, lots of responsibility, and lots of cute animals. They’re off on a short cycling trip with a previous woofer. Nothing like initiation by fire.
I’ve just come back from the hills, and am fixing myself some beans, kofte (meatballs) and some delicious greens from the garden. I’ll siesta til 2—then work with Zeynep—our neighbor to salt/churn/move/undetermined to some cheese in process. After that, i’ll hit the garden for the afternoon before heading back to the barn for some pellet deep cleaning and exhausted deep-dreaming.
So, to all who care to know what i’m doing here in Turkey…
I’m a shepherd.
Next up: all the crazy shit that goes through my mind while ambling through the bush! Profundity guaranteed!
