Spring has arrived in Ankara. As always, a little later than we’d like, but it’s here, at last, and it’s beautiful. Walking through the backstreets of the city, the ones hidden from the noisy boulevards and honking cars, you can see nature waking up after the winter.
In front of almost every apartment building, there’s at least a small garden. Right now, at the start of spring, dandelions are everywhere, alongside other colorful flowers I can’t name. Each garden has a bench, or at least a few chairs and a small table, because sitting outside together, whether in cafés, bars, or right outside your building, is second nature to many Turks.
The scent of lilacs and sounds of thunder
Lilacs are in bloom everywhere. Thankfully, last week’s snowfall didn’t crush them, even though it covered the already-awakening greenery. In the park, the grass has grown tall – tall enough that it’ll probably be mowed any day now. But for the moment, it’s left to grow wild, along with more dandelions, both yellow and gone to seed. Benches are full of locals, searching for a piece of nature and calm in this restless capital.
On Easter Saturday, Ankara erupts in a storm. Just so we don’t get too comfortable, thinking it’s all sunshine and warmth from now on. Come the stifling summer, we’ll remember this steady, chilly rain with unexpected fondness, just like every year.
Speaking of Easter, no, it’s not celebrated in Turkey. Unlike Christmas, no Easter customs or traditions have made their way here. I don’t miss the Czech-style “pomlázka” (willow whip), and I buy fresh eggs at the markets – not to paint, but to eat. Sometimes the local bakery sells a small, sweet bread called Paskalya, the Turkish word for Easter.
Eating with the seasons
At the markets in April, alongside eggs, you’ll find artichokes, beans, red beets, spring onions, fresh thyme, arugula, and parsley. What’s sold is whatever’s in season, so broccoli, for example, will soon disappear, which I don’t personally mind.
As for fruit, strawberries, lemons, and something I still haven’t gotten used to after all these years are in season now: çağla badem – unripe green almonds. Turks love them, eating them by the kilo, often sprinkled with salt. Another popular green fruit at this time of year: unripe plums and apricots. Tastes vary, but even after ten years, I still prefer my fruit ripe.
Ankara is vast and noisy, but it has its quiet corners too, places where you can see and hear spring, if you just pay attention. A few meters from our kitchen window, magpies are building nests in the trees for their chicks. Other birds sing louder in spring, or maybe I’m just more attuned to them. Street cats and dogs lounge in the sun.
Balconies are slowly filling with flowers, ours too. It’s still a little early for petunias, the garden shop owner tells me. I should come back next week. On the weekend, he’ll also have lavender, which I asked about. For now, I settle for geraniums, though the next day, a strong, persistent rain gives them a rough start.
Spring in Ankara is unpredictable, but it’s vibrant, and after a long winter, we treasure and savor it.