Wooden Spoons

A trip to the Sunday market in Mumcular is now a firm fixture on the itinerary when friends visit. The shopping list usually looks like this: Baggy trousers for lounging about at home. Mixed dried vegetables for spicing up soups and pastas. Linen and cotton shirts. Turkish delight. Turkish saffron. Humane mouse trap (this isn't often on the list but we have some unwanted visitors as well as our wanted ones).

Wooden spoons are also a great buy and Hasan Usta and his wife Fatma are our first port of call. He and I go back a long time; in 1991 he was the carpenter 7 metres up the scaffolding, guiding our complicated roof beams into place while his young son, Musa, balanced on the top of the outer stone walls making sure the right beam was in the right place.

Hasan's present post-retirement occupation of spoon carving should be a much safer job but a slip of one tool or another resulted in a broken arm and a stay in hospital to get it fixed. This didn't stop him manning his stall today and Felicity bought a perforated wooden spoon; so much more attractive than the usual metal or plastic ones.

I'm typing this under the wooden roof beams that Hasan and Musa so expertly fitted 33 years ago. I've seen them shake and shimmy in several earthquakes but so far, they have always settled back in their allotted places. I have my fingers crossed for the next 33 years.