While regular weekend lockdowns in Istanbul have been a unifying experience in a myriad of ways, so much of our experience is tied to our own circumstance. Two longtime Yabangee contributors shared a typical day in their lockdown worlds, contrasting the tight-knit family scenes of Mira Xavnur-Balic to the single (newly appointed) cat-lady routines of Tas Anjarwalla.
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Mira: I share a 3-bedroom apartment (large, by Istanbul standards) with my husband (who is a musician so he is currently stuck at home with us), my bubbly firecracker of a toddler and our nanny.
Tas: I share a studio apartment (small, by anyone’s standards) with my new foster cat Kokoş. I’m lucky to have a massive terrace – it’s why I’m willing to live in such a tiny space!
How we’re adjusting
Mira: Groundhog Day! This early-90s flick is currently what perfectly sums up my Covid-19 existence. Everyday is somewhat similar to the rest, but we do what we can to entertain our daughter. I guess I am lucky because I am a homebody at heart, a stay-at-home mum and an English teacher, so at least when it comes to having fun indoors and preparing educational and stimulating activities, that has always been our regular, everyday occurrence.
BUT living so close to the seaside – being so close that you can breathe in the fresh, salty air from your balcony – it makes this isolation that little bit harder. Like other countries in the world, seaside access is closed in Istanbul. Those under 20 and over 65 are not allowed to leave their homes. But crowds, people from all over and wonderful aromas floating around, is what Istanbul is renowned for. And keeping the elderly Istanbullu home is easier said than done. They are used to stepping outside their front doors and talking to neighbors, walking to their regular shops and having çay with the owners, sitting with a newspaper on the seaside.
It’s getting more and more difficult to try and explain this situation to my daughter. We have now turned our balcony into an indoor “garden” and spend a lot of the day there, soaking up the Vitamin D. As we are playing or reading on the balcony, she will see an elderly couple walk past, or a lone elder and say, “Mummy, there are people outside! Why can’t we go outside as well?” It’s so frustrating, because we are in reality staying home for them. The situation is made even more difficult when she spots children outside with their parents, walking or cycling around like nothing has changed, sans mask. “But mummy, those kids are outside?! When can I go outside?!” Soon Venus Pie, soon.
Tas: While I could work from home even before the pandemic, now that I’m writing this I’ve realized just how dramatically my days have changed. I used to roll out of bed (late) and make a big breakfast, then either meet fellow office-free friends for coffee shop work dates or snag a table at the ATÖLYE co-working space. I’d work till it was time to meet someone for dinner, either at a friend’s house or out. Most of my Istanbul life was spent luxuriating over good food in good company or working al fresco. A begrudging night owl, I’d come home late and most days work another hour or two before some TV and bed.
Now, I leave home max twice a week, and only to go grocery shopping or to the vet. Oh yea, I got a foster cat. I love cats and avoided ever falling in love with any particular one because I’m never home. I figured since I’d be stuck in one place for so long, though, I could offer up my space to a kitty in need, and hopefully get some lovin’ in return. I also now spend a lot of time trying to stop myself from binging TV series instead of working. I’ve managed to win that battle more often now that the initial chaos of the Corona news has settled down. I also spent my very first weekend in lockdown fixing up my rarely used terrace (you can check the project out on Yabangee’s Instagram highlights), and am beyond grateful to now have this space to get some sun everyday.
Waking up
Mira: I’m woken up by something ridiculous like, “Mummy look at this HUMONGOUS booger!” or “Mummy your hair looks so funny and wobbly, like jelly!” I prepare breakfast while our nanny entertains her, put the coffee machine on and go back to sleep for an hour while they eat. Get woken up again by something along the lines of, “Mummmmy I’ve missed you!”
Tas: Kokoş slinks out of bed around 7:30 and goes scaling the shelves of the apartment. I let her mess about until she squeaks (not meows) at me to feed her. This goes on for about a half hour before I manage to crawl out of bed and put some wet food into a bowl already full of dry food. She spoiled. I either go back to sleep for another hour or scroll through my phone to catch up on WhatsApp group messages from friends and family chit-chatting in other time zones. (Mom: “Made gluten-free donuts today!”; Friend in the US: “Do you think I can make kolonya?”)
Breakfast
Mira: Have breakfast with husband and grab our coffees “to-go” in the living room. Living room is just the technical term; it should actually be called “The Playroom.” After all this isolation and Covid pandemia is over, I should start charging people to bring their kindergarten children to play, ha! We either play all together by making costumes, building forts, or erecting Survivor-type obstacle courses, or I will play with her while my husband attends to his work.
Tas: When Kokoş starts squeaking to be let out onto the terrace, this is my cue to start the day. I contemplate showering, but who are we kidding. I clip her leash and let her sit in the sun while I make some strong coffee. We wave to Emine Teyze and Hüseyin Amca across the street, and she pops her head out the window to advise me to eat more garlic to fend off the rona. I get to work. No breakfast (or garlic) for me just yet.
Morning
Mira: Ding-dong, ding-dong… we now do ALL of our shopping online. The doorbell rings, and it’s Migros online. They have delivered our groceries for the week. We’ve paid online and tell the delivery guy to leave it at the door. We stick an envelope with a tip for him on our door before he arrives. I view delivery people as highly as the medical staff working on the frontlines. They are risking their lives everyday making it possible for us to have access to groceries, water, medicines. My nanny and I put our masks and gloves on and get ready to disinfect every. single. item. One by one. It is not a one-man job.
Tas: I hear the ekmekçi clattering down the street, hawking his fresh bread and Ramazan pide. I recognize the call from my favorite fırın because their megaphone has a tinny crackle to it. I lower my tote bag from my balcony with a 5tl note inside so they can trade it for a few simit. Sometimes Gülseren Teyze one floor below barks at me to get her a fresh pide, which she later insists on paying me double for. (Don’t worry, I don’t take her up on it. She’s 88 and usually gets her way, though. She tells me a young police officer tried to ticket her for “getting some sun” the other day, and she told him he could collect the fine at her gravesite). I do my best to wipe down my tote, then toss a fresh simit in a pan and fry an egg in the center. A little sucuk or cheese for me and Kokoş, and brunch is served on the terrace.
Afternoon
Mira: After lunch, it’s nap-time. My favourite time of day. While the tiring but equally satisfying little one naps for two to three hours, I rest beside her. Sometimes reading, sometimes online shopping, and sometimes napping myself. It’s time for myself – me time, which is hard to come across when you are stuck inside with two other adults and one threenager.
Tas: I try and finish the second episode of Tiger King, which I started while eating brunch, but give up. Hmmm, Brooklyn 99 is only 22 minutes, maybe a couple of these…
1 hour later: Ok, now back to work. But first, maybe I should download Tik Tok? Am I too old for this Savage dance? Yes. Ok, how about another cup of coffee.
Snack time
Mira: Our nap and rest is followed by some snacks and play time with daddy. My daughter is very lucky having a musician as a father, they play instruments together and make their own songs. He is also a very talented artist, so she has lots of fun drawing and painting with him. Compared to when I draw for her (mummy what animal IS that?).
Tas: My 30% productivity in the last hour deserves a snack break on the terrace. Peanut butter, banana and nutella on leftover Ramazan pide or za’atar roasted carrots and chickpeas over yogurt? Of course, whatever I eat will pair well with another (few) episode(s) of Brooklyn 99.
Self-care time
Mira: We have started meditating and doing yoga together as a family, which is a great way to teach children calmness and proper breathing.
Tas: I furiously scroll through Instagram as folks in the US start waking up and blasting me with news. I catch up on more WhatsApp group messages. (Pop: “Fwd: HOW COVID-19 KILLS–I’m a Surgeon–And Why We Can’t Save You.” Guy I went on two dates with in 2016: “Hey! How are you holding up? I hear things are crazy in Turkey!”) I respond to dudes I left on read while testing out a dating app for another Yabangee story, this time on social distance dating. Kokoş saunters in from her nap in the sun and demands I put my phone away while we cuddle. She hates my phone. I read her a few chapters of my book (Boy, Snow, Bird by Helen Oyeyemi). Then a couple more to myself. It’s not like I have anywhere to go…
Dinner
Mira: After meditating, we have our dinner together as a family and the adults have some wine. Some after-dinner activities we have incorporated into making our isolation more colourful: writing our own plays and acting them out, visiting the endless virtual museums available online and movie nights. This is another chance for me to fit in some more online lessons with my students. Another big part of our “new normal” is video calls. This is how the world is communicating with each other. We Facetime family and friends, not only in Turkey but home in Australia, too. I’ve even taken to finding pen-pals for my daughter in other countries so she can virtually meet new children her own age.
Tas: After reading, I work a little more, usually until 8. Then I flip through my favorite cookbook, Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamim’s Jerusalem, and settle on Eggplant Chermoula with Bulgur & Yogurt. Like many others stuck at home, I’ve unleashed my inner chef and have managed to make some incredibly complex, tasty dishes! Out of anything I’ve done in the last few months, realizing that my short-cut-taking self has the patience to roll dumplings and deconstruct a recipe I had at a wedding a year ago, well, it’s what I’m most proud of. I stop cooking to clap with my neighbors at 9, eat and watch more TV. I sit in bed and intermittently work between calls to my mom, sister and an assortment of friends back home. Other nights at around this time I have group zoom calls planned, one on top of another. I take them from bed, and Kokoş falls asleep on top of my head.
Final thoughts
Mira: As I’m writing this now on my balcony, I can see that the people that live in the apartments around me are outside. They are having picnics on their lawns; they have their stereos out, music blaring without a care in the world. They must be invincible.
Tas: My freelance assignments dwindled once Corona hit the Western hemisphere and people stopped responding to emails for a while. Besides a few shimmy-pop dance and Skyting yoga zoom classes here and there, I sat on my butt for two weeks and binged every BBC detective show on Netflix. Clients eventually started getting back to me, and now I’m so, so grateful to have work to do and some money trickling in. I really feel for those struggling to make ends meet right now, and I recognize how lucky I am to be able to manage without income for a little while, and to have access to essentials. Now I’ve settled into a bit of a routine and, while it’s lonely, I can talk to my friends, who are also all working at home, any time. In all honesty, I think Kokoş is the reason I’m doing so well. Obviously, I’m adopting her.
Have your own social distancing routines you’d like to share? Let us know in the comments.
To keep up with our two authors and the many wonderful pieces they’ve crafted for us, check out the pages of Mira Xavnur-Balic and Tas Anjarwalla.
