Via Prague

The past few days here have been Bayram, which is Turkish for a national holiday or festival. Although there are bayram throughout the year, such as at the end of Ramadan, this particular holiday is what is known as Kurban Bayramı, or Days of Sacrifice.
The streets of Bursa in the days leading up to Bayram are busy, as everyone looks to buy gifts. The bazaars and street markets are packed, the street hawkers barking out special "Bayram" prices. Then on the first day of Bayram (it lasts four days), sheep and cows are sacrificed to God for the children or the family or health, and the sacrifice is eaten in a large meal. When you think about it, ıt's not so different at all from Thanksgiving in America: it is a celebration marked by thanks to God, a gathering of family and a lot of food.
My friend Orzlem isn't so into the sacrifice. Once her father bought a sheep for Bayram and wanted to sacrifice the sheep in her name and she was like, "No!" She doesn't like the idea of cutting the throats of young sheep and cows.
But that's only one aspect of Bayram. Really, it's a time for people to get away from work, spend time with friends and family, drink rakı (a kind of Turkish pernod, a real head-spinner believe me) or beer and have fun. I notice in Turkey, or at least here in Bursa, many people work six, sometimes seven days a week. So Bayram provides a release, a time to unwind.
The daily prayers, heard from loudspeakers atop the minarets throughout the city, continue as always. But with Bayram there is an added spark: a cannonblast accompanies each prayer throughout the day. For a foreigner, these cannon blasts are hard to get used to. You're walking down the street and suddenly "Boom!" and you feel like you are going into cardiac arrest.
What else to say? Nothing really. A holiday needs no dissertation, so I won't give one. Funny though, my Turkish friends asked about Thanksgiving in America.
I told them we eat turkey.
They got out good laugh out of that.