The hint of a snowstorm certainly boosted Altan's sales today. How could one resist a warm cup of kahve from that vehement, little, brown-faced man who pushed his jingling coffee cart up and down the street? Especially since it was a bit nippy outside. Not that cold weather was needed for Altan to make a sale. He sold his original Turkish coffee for only 25¢ a cup and had been since the '70s.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Evans! Care for kahve?"
"Greetings Mr. Alwyn! Care for kahve?"
Many people pushed past and ignored the wrinkly 65-year-old Turk. Not that he minded. He understood, people were busy, had other things to do, more important things to spend their money on... maybe they didn't even like coffee, he thought once. Altan had a lot of time to watch and think; he was a good observer and knew a small thing or two about each person that passed by him regularly. He certainly knew that they weren't the kind of people that came after coffee like it was their life's blood, so he was never too busy. So long as he had time to perform Salah five times each day: at fajr, dhuhr, asr, maghrib, and isha.
Yes, Altan definitely made good money today. It was 5:29 pm - time for maghrib. The muezzin's voice crackled over the speaker as he called for prayer. The sound filtered through the streets and alleys of the city block until it reached Altan's ears. He rolled out his mat, cleansed himself with the air, and bowed down toward Mecca. When he was done, he added a little prayer of his own, giving thanks to Allah for the profit he'd earned today.
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For blog #2...
ReplyDeleteI woke up this morning to the loud sound of a minaret speaker outside. It was raining. Drizzling really, but the outlook for the day's weather didn't look so good. I saw Altan Yilmaz walking along the sidewalk , pushing his coffee cart, picked up a quarter and chased him down so I could grab a cup. It tasted a bit watery, but it's better than having to make it myself.
:)
AN EXCERPT FROM, "The Badger and the Dragon, or Meeting the Neighbors"
ReplyDelete...Morning Jack, the doorman says as I leave the building. Did I tell him my name?
As I walk down Mercy Road through the cold and the sleet, I try to fold up in on myself. Partly this is to protect my laptop. Partly this is in the hope that no one will look at me. You might be surprised how many people would live in a place like this, and they all seem to want to talk to me.
Even before I entered the apartment building for the first time I was accosted by a man peddling coffee. Once inside, I was stopped by a young boy in a business suit much too big for him. He sized me up, looked me in the eye, and then asked me, Sir would you please sign this here? Merely a formality, he assured me, all Wilshire Tower residents must sign. The paper he showed me was purposefully decorated with a merry collection of crayon squiggles. Sign here, he said, indicating a neon green loop-de-loop. That was when the doorman rescued me.
Today I wasn't interested in meeting more neighbors. However, my luck continued unabated. Taking a glance up from my cold feet I saw that there was a badger in the road...