The Scottish King and I

CHAPTER 2:Vacation

The moment my phone’s ring filled the room, I quickly opened my eyes and jumped up. I started looking for my phone in the darkness of the room. Fortunately, I found it on my dressing table thanks to its shining light. It was six in the morning. Of course, the clock and alarm were set according to Turkish time and prayer time. I hadn’t thought to change it when I came to Scotland. Since we were two hours apart, it must have been four in the morning. Since I went to bed early, waking up early hadn’t been a problem either. I felt quite refreshed. I was well rested. I tried to stretch my body. Then I opened the window and took in the morning air.

“Very nice.”

In a country where it was summer but barely 20 degrees during the day, I couldn’t expect the weather to be warmer when the day was not bright. If I didn’t wear anything, the weather would definitely make me sick, but still, the smell and the feeling it gave me when it hit my face were very nice. Interestingly, 20 degrees was winter in Antalya. So it seemed very strange to me. Scotland was a strange country, like the United Kingdom. So, must the Scottish tourists who come to Turkiye in the summer be in a bad situation? Especially if this place is Antalya. Because it was 50 degrees under the sun, which was oppressive even for the locals with the humidity. So I decided that the best time to visit for the Scots was winter, but then they could get caught in the rain. They are obviously used to it, but wouldn’t it make more sense for them to experience something that was the opposite of the season in their own country?

“Lady logic spoke!” I said to myself. I couldn’t stop making unnecessary comments in my head. I was talking to myself so much that sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder if I was crazy. I took my phone, opened the Diyanet (*) application to update the prayer status according to Edinburgh, and gave the necessary instructions. The sun was rising around 4:30. So the first thing I did was go to the toilet. After taking care of my needs, I got ready for the morning prayer and determined my direction with the Qibla Compass and performed my morning prayer. After finishing my prayers, as is my custom, I thanked Allah and got up.

I went straight to the bathroom. I tried to decide whether to take another bath or not. The hot water before going to bed had been very good and starting the new day with a bath would have a refreshing effect. When I looked at the clock, I saw that fifteen minutes had passed. Since there was nothing better to do, I threw myself under the hot water again. Then I combed my hair, dried it, and combed it again. Some people might dry it first and then comb it, but it was causing my hair to pull out. Since my hair is thin, the best solution was the comb, dry, and comb method.

After putting on clean underwear, I put on the T-shirt and sweatpants that I had thrown on my bed - my pajamas - again. After putting my hair in a ponytail, I turned off the bathroom light and turned on the small lamp in my room. The air was bright, but it wasn't enough for me. When the cold air filled the room, I closed the window, picked up my unfinished novel, got back into bed and started reading.

I am a librocubicularist. I mean, I am one of those who have made reading books in bed a disease. Although it is not exactly a disease. It would be more accurate to call it a habit. I am a person who loves my comfort to the point of not doing anything sitting down. According to my mother, I was born in bed, I grew up in bed and I live in bed. Well, I will probably die in bed.

When I lifted my eyes from the book, it was six in the morning and I was already hungry. When I listened, I could not hear a sound. So I assumed that no one was awake yet. Since the sun sets at 22 in the summer, I wondered if they started the day later than we did. Although the Germans would go out on the streets before daybreak. They did not really care whether the sun rose or not. The family probably got up in an hour or two. After all, they did not have the energy to start work at noon and work until nine in the evening.

When I could no longer stand the hunger, I got out of bed and placed my book neatly on my nightstand. I took off the slippers I had brought from home and put them on. Since Westerners have a disease of walking around with shoes on at home, I didn’t expect to be given slippers here. Walking around with shoes on all day was both oppressive and uncomfortable. It’s definitely not for me. Also, bringing trillions of microbes from outside into the house, eating at that house and putting their feet on the bed or couch was a very unhealthy behavior. I can’t help but wonder how they don’t get sick. The body must be used to microbes, but this body isn’t!

After making my bed, I put on a long cardigan and slowly opened the door to my room. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I had just taken a step when my foot hit something. A thin square box with white dots on it, gift-wrapped, was at my feet. It said “Do bheatha dhan dùthaich!” It meant something like “Welcome to my country!” There was also a TV program with this name a few years ago in Scotland. I had looked at a few chapters of it on the internet. I am sure there were some references to it. I cannot claim to know Celtic, but I was familiar with a few words and sentences. I have my uncle Jim to thank for that. Of course, also for the gift! Because it could not have come from anyone else. He had probably put it in front of my door so as not to wake me.

I picked up the box from the floor, put it on my bed and untied the ribbon. I burst out laughing as soon as I opened the lid. Inside was a tartan skirt belonging to the MacGregor clan. That was my uncle's real joke. If you get into a kilt and kilt debate with a Scot, you should know that you have stepped on their nerves. Experience speaks for sure. There was also a plant rosette. In Scotland, there was a plant representing each clan. MacGregor was represented by the Scots pine tree. In my language, this tree species was called Sarıçam. It was a very common species in Europe and Anatolia. There were also plenty of them in the Black Sea region of Turkiye. In fact, as part of my research, I was interested in the fact that this tree was in Scotland. Especially the fact that a tree from the Black Sea region is here. Perhaps being a widespread species in the world would have prevented it from being a part of my thesis, but I still preferred not to ignore it completely.

I was a second-year student in the Archaeology department as a history graduate. One of the reasons I came to Scotland was to follow the traces of the Scythian Turks who ruled around the Black Sea region at the time. This had a special meaning for me. I took the badge, held it up and took a good look. If I directly translated it into Turkish as Scots Pine, it might have caused difficulty in establishing a connection. The word Scots is actually important for this tree, whose English name is Scots Pine. The name of the İskit in English is Scythian. It has a serious resemblance to the word Scottish, and according to the Scottish's own declarations in history, it has been definite that they were descended from the Scythians. Although I only think there was a serious family connection. I saw that the Scythians came to this island with a dense population, intermarried with the Celts and managed to preserve their culture for a while. Naturally, it was quite normal to translate Scots Pine as Scythian Pine.

After putting the rosette back in its place and putting the box in a corner, I left my room, closed the door slowly and almost tiptoed downstairs, this time using the stairs. When I entered the kitchen, which was right in the middle of the house, I saw that there was still no one. Considering the time, I expected someone to wake up and start preparing breakfast, but it was good that way so that I could move more comfortably. A different culture also meant different food. As luck would have it, the Scottish breakfast was as rich as the Turkish breakfast. Okay, maybe not as rich as ours, no one could be, but at least I have no doubt that I would enjoy it.

As soon as I opened the refrigerator, a rich menu greeted me. Everything was neatly placed. The first thing I did was to take out the cheese varieties. Then I took out the jams and finally peeled the tomatoes and cucumbers.

And now we come to the main point! I put a few eggs, a bottle of milk, flour and salt on the counter. My intention was to make akıtma. In other words, crepe. Not many people know but it is originally an Anatolian food and even called “cızlama” in some places, but I had to brew tea first. Tea was not something you drink for breakfast in the West, but it definitely had to be in a house where my aunt ruled. She is a total tea addict! Just like me! Luckily, she had the tea brought from our country. The trick to brewing good Turkish tea is to pour hot water, I don’t mean boiling water, mind you, into the teapot and pour the tea over it. It will slowly sink to the bottom as it absorbs the water and brew. In this way, both its color and taste become more delicious. It will brew after fifteen or twenty minutes. Then I recommend that you remove and throw away the pulp because this way you can preserve its freshness for a longer time.

While the tea was brewing, I immediately prepared the dough for akıtma and fried them one by one. After completing the remaining missing items on the table, I poured out the tea pulp and poured myself a glass of tea. After placing my chocolate spread on the shelf that practically screamed ‘I’m here!’ on the table, I had a feast for myself. Before I could finish my breakfast, a middle-aged woman hurriedly entered. It was obvious from her appearance that this woman was the one in charge of the kitchen. “Good morning,” I said to the woman affectionately. When she saw that breakfast was ready, her face wrinkled in embarrassment. “Good morning, my lady. Sorry, I overslept.”

“It doesn’t matter, I was up early today. I prepared everything. You eat your breakfast too.” The woman nodded and quietly left the kitchen. “Where is she going?”

“Who?”

When I turned my head, I saw my uncle, who was 1.75 tall. He was a beautiful brunette. I say beautiful because he was still fit and handsome despite his age. He didn’t have an ounce of excess weight. It was no surprise that my aunt was madly in love. He was wearing sports clothes. So he had already stayed up and gone for a run. I was surprised I didn't hear it. If I knew, I would have followed him too.

“The lady in charge of the kitchen. I told her to have her breakfast, but she shook her head and left the kitchen.” I narrowed my eyes and looked my uncle up and down. “Are you one of those cruel lords? Do you force them eat in their rooms or something?”

Uncle Jim laughed a little. “The staff eat in the kitchen downstairs.”

“Is there a kitchen downstairs too?” Uncle Jim shook his head. “Why isn’t there one upstairs?”

My uncle raised both hands. This was a sign that he had given up. He couldn’t talk to me anymore. “Did you get my gift?”

“Wouldn’t I? It was a very thoughtful gift. Thank you.”

“You're welcome! I thought about what to get for a long time. I prepared the gift a month ago. I waited impatiently to present it.”

I gave a thumbs up. “You’re great, man!”

Uncle Jim hugged me tightly and kissed me warmly on the head. “Welcome beautiful. I am happy to finally have you in my new home. Enjoy your vacation.”

“I am happy too… Breakfast?”

“Let me take a bath first. See you.”

When my uncle left the kitchen, I was left alone again. I took a deep breath, drank the rest of my tea and put the dirty dishes in the machine. After clearing the table a little, I had it all ready for my aunt and uncle. Then I went out to the backyard. There was nothing like a walk and getting some fresh air. That was one of the best things about Scotland; lots of greenery and fresh air. The downside was that it was gloomy and cold. Well, as my father said; two good things don’t go together. I had actually been to Scotland a few times before, but the last time I was there was when I was 11. I haven’t been back since. I am now 23.5 years old. All that time had blurred my memory. Maybe I should have kept a diary. I loved reading, but when it came to writing regularly, I couldn’t do it. After a few attempts, I left my diary somewhere deep in my room. When I find it, I regret not continuing because it really felt interesting to re-read many things I had forgotten. Maybe I should start writing again? Actually, yes! I definitely should. Since my holiday in Scotland was very important, I had to write and draw every memory or special memory. So the first thing I would do today would be to buy a diary from a stationery store.

I spent the rest of my day exploring unknown places in the house, watching TV, and chatting with my uncle and aunt. My aunt decided that my English was a bit broken and forbade me to speak Turkish. Well, if I wanted to improve my English, I would go on holiday to England! The woman was right, though. I have a slight accent, which is a mixture of Turkish, American and English. I will probably add a Scottish accent by the end of the summer. Well, my uncle will change it to 100% Scottish, I am sure he will even teach me the Celtic language. He never misses an opportunity. A few years ago, the king encouraged the renewal of the Scots language in order to revive it throughout the country and make it the dominant language. The Prime Minister and the Parliament of Scotland also supported the king. My uncle is also one of the pioneers of the renewal movement. I am also grateful to him. I will use it because I think it is a beautiful language. And maybe it will contribute to my research. Languages ​​are the best reflection of the bond between two cultures. Unfortunately, I do not have a great talent for languages. So I will take it as what I can.

It was almost 13:00 as I sat in the pergola. I was having lunch with Turkish cheese toast and tea. My breakfast in the morning was quite filling and I did not want to eat much. While myuncle was drinking his tea, my aunt went to the kitchen to make a second toast for him.

“So? Are you going to be slumbering all day?” he said.

“Won’t Elgin come?”

“He will come only towards evening. Unfortunately, we cannot see her whenever we want.”

“This is why I will never marry my daughter into the royal family.”

My uncle smiled. “You should get married first.”

“While I was saying I got rid of my family, I’m getting into trouble with my aunt. And now you don’t start too, uncle!”

“It’s inevitable...” My aunt came with a plate of toast in her hand. After giving the plate to her husband, she sat down next to me. After looking at me with her eyes again, she sighed deeply. “You’ll have to get married sooner or later.”

“Oh my Allah! Why?”

“Because that’s the nature of being human. Especially if you’re a woman. The time has come. You need to look for the love of your life. Love adds beauty to a woman’s beauty. There is no woman without love. Love and woman are one.”

“That’s why I’m in love with this woman,” said my uncle Jim. He looked at my aunt with admiration. “Seviliyorsun kadın! (You’re loved, woman)” he said, imitating me and using his broken Turkish.

“Sen de beyim(You too, my husband).” Unfortunately, I couldn’t get rid of my aunt’s radar. She turned to me again and raised one eyebrow. “Ece!” she said finally, when I didn't answer any further.

"I get youuuuuu." You'll wait a long time, I said to myself of course. Love and me? I don't even read novels, let alone watch love movies. It's so boring and unexciting! I don't even understand how people enjoy reading love books and watching love movies. I'm not saying there's no such thing as love, but there's no room for it in my life! I have to experience the deepest excitement. For this reason, I turned to mystery. I am curious about the stories that have been buried under the dust of history. I want to find, see and understand the unknown. What can give me this is not love, but history.

“Then I will get ready,” I said, making a rich get-up.

“Where?” said both my brother-in-law and my aunt.

“I won’t be slumbering all day. I will walk around.”

“Shall I drop you off wherever you want in the car? Even better, if you want, I can drive you?” said my brother-in-law.

“No, thank you. Don’t late your job, uncle. Today, I will only walk around the house. I will pick up a few things I need and return before evening.”

“As you wish. You will not go in your pajamas, will you?”

“Where did this idea come from for Allah's sake?” said my aunt.

“I don’t know, she has always been in her pajamas since she was born. I have never seen her in anything else.”

“Pajamas are a lifestyle, uncle. You can’t understand.”

I left my uncle behind me with a loud laugh and went to my room to get dressed. Since I didn’t want to drive my aunt crazy again, I tried to dress as harmoniously as possible. I wore black tights with stones on the sides and a white, very stylish fleece top over them. I also put on blue thick-soled converse on my feet. I tied my hair tightly at the top. This way, my eyes looked too slanted.

I adjusted the small medallion around my neck. It was the size of a Turkish lira and gold. It had two dragons fighting each other on it. It was a very old necklace, a family heirloom from my father’s side. My family was from the Black Sea region. My grandfather had said that the necklace came from his ancestors in the Scythian period. In other words, it was an antique. If someone knew this, they would rob me and would swimming in money. It probably wasn’t smart to wear it around my neck, but I couldn’t bear to take it off for both spiritual reasons and another personal reason. So no matter what I wore, I would wear it but hide it.

In short, the reason I was obsessed with the Scythian Turks was completely emotional, not academic, but I see no harm in combining business and love. Especially when you consider that it is not something everyone has the chance to do.

I put my phone and money in my pockets and closed the zipper tightly. I went downstairs. My aunt must have been waiting for me because she was standing in front of the door. She looked at me with a keen eye and nodded. “Even though it is sporty, it looks stylish.”

“Thank you. I am glad you like it.”

“Don’t you have a bag?”

“I am wearing sporty clothes, what bag?”

“How can that be? Can a woman go out without a bag? Wait, I have a sports bag, it would fit perfectly.”

“Stop! I don’t want it. I don’t like bags.”

“My dear daughter, why are you like this? Even your mother is not like this. She is well-groomed, she would not go out without a bag.”

“But I am not my mother,” I said smiling. I quickly kissed my aunt on the cheek and before she could object, I said, “I ran away!” and left the house.