Kurban Bayram In Fethiye

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Today is the last day of Kurban Bayram – the festival of the sacrifice.

Many a goat has ended its days (or had its days ended for it) this weekend, let me tell you.

Traditionally, Turkish families sacrifice a goat or sheep (although qualified butchers are used more and more these days) and the meat is distributed between poorer families.

There’s not a seat to be had on the intercity buses and domestic flights and the roads are busy with people travelling to be with their families.

It’s a happy time and great to be a spectator of all this which is why I’m writing about it now because yesterday it just reminded me of when I was a kid and a tradition I’ve not thought about for ages.

You see at Bayram, the Turks – adults and kids – buy a new outfit, so when we walked up the harbour yesterday it was absolutely packed with immaculately dressed families ‘promenading’. I’ve never seen it so busy.

What did it remind me of? Easter!

It took me back to when I was about 6 or 7 and my nana telling me I had to wear new clothes on Easter Sunday or else the pigeons would shit on me (her words, not mine). This would have been great except I had no choice about what these new clothes were. Every year, my mum took me to Timpsons shoe shop in Wigan and I had to have my feet measured in that terrifying machine where the metal plates came out from the sides threatening to squish your foot. I always had to have Clarks shoes cos they were good quality and usually cos my nana was paying.

The main thing that put this picture in my head yesterday was the little kids. At Easter, when I was a kid, my other new item of clothing was always a cardigan knitted by Great Auntie Emma. Again, no choice in colours, patterns etc. Knitting was what older people did then and here, in Fethiye, it’s still all the rage…and was very evident in some of the kids outfits yesterday. They have my sympathy.

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