I wake up before the alarm. In the darkness before dawn, I walk around my bed and step into the bathroom. In a few hours, the bells of the neighbourhood church will ring. I welcome the first splash of water on my face, it jolts through my body.<\/p>\n
My mind is still with the dream. The crescent grandfather moon shining gold in the inky night. I wash my forearms and rub the top of my head with my wet hand. My favourite part of the cleansing. It feels like a dance.<\/p>\n
I pinch my ears with thumb and finger, wash behind them before bringing the backs of my hands onto my neck, stroking it with water. The bath mat on the floor is wet. My forearms are starting to get cold. I look forward to completing the ritual, washing my feet and succumbing to the warmth of a towel. Why was I so scared?<\/p>\n
I tuck my damp hair underneath an old prayer scarf.<\/p>\n
I love the quiet of the house before sunrise. It sleeps as I stand ready for prayer. The meeting of lovers<\/em>, Rumi had said. Bismillah<\/em>. My body is still tired so the first sajda<\/em> is welcome; my forehead touching the prayer rug, the musty smell of the carpet enveloping my mind. My mind wanders off to the dream. I shouldn\u2019t be thinking of this.<\/em> Subhanallah.<\/em> Morning prayer is quick and sweet, it is the waking that is most difficult. I fold my prayer rug and hang it across my bed frame.<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n At the uni library, I collect my books into a basket and place my bag into the locker. I feel two hands covering my eyes from the back. I smile.<\/p>\n \u201cMeltem?\u201d I say. Her perfume is overwhelming, her hands wiry and cold over my eyes. I turn around.<\/p>\n \u201cGirl, where have you been?\u201d She has a huge smile on her face. We kiss cheeks.<\/p>\n \u201cJust busy, you know, with Ramadan coming up, my mother\u2019s been onto me about cleaning the house a month before Eid.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell don\u2019t you know, cleanliness is worship<\/em>,\u201d she flicks her black hair over her shoulder, \u201cat least that\u2019s what my grandmother used to say.\u201d She rolls her eyes and laughs.<\/p>\n \u201cShit, she was so obsessed with cleaning. She spanked me for leaving my clipped nails on the living room floor.\u201d She inspects her manicured nails and says, \u201cI was seven.\u201d<\/p>\n I crinkle my nose and say, \u201cMeltem, that is<\/em> gross.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, whatever. But listen, I\u2019m seeing Alex tonight. I need you to meet him.\u201d She does this thing with her eyes, they darken with anticipation, giving her face more definition, more beauty.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I start.<\/p>\n \u201cCome,<\/em>\u201d she says emphatically and thumps the floor with her foot.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s just, with Ramadan around the corner,\u201d I say, \u201cyou\u2019re probably thinking about going to a bar, no?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh, it\u2019s nothing,\u201d she swats the air, \u201cit doesn\u2019t feel<\/em> like a bar. There are couches and stuff, like a Starbucks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA Starbucks with alcohol,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n \u201cYou usually come out and don\u2019t drink, what\u2019s the problem?\u201d<\/p>\n Two German girls squeeze past us and look at me. I realise we\u2019ve been speaking loudly.<\/p>\n \u201cOk, fine<\/em>,\u201d I finally say.<\/p>\n She hops up and down and lets out a little shriek, hugging me.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s so<\/em> beautiful, your eyes are going to drop.\u201d She says, squeezing my shoulders.<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n I\u2019m in Sam\u2019s Bar at 9 pm. Meltem\u2019s not in sight. The bar is packed. There are two couch areas with no space to sit. I buy a Red Bull and stare at the door, hoping for the relief that Meltem\u2019s appearance will bring me. A man walks over to me.<\/p>\n \u201cYou look like you need company, care if I sat with you?\u201d He says. I mumble a weak ok<\/em>.<\/p>\n He asks some people to move over on the couch by the window and motions for me to sit. He knows Meltem through another friend, he tells me. I stroke my hair, hoping it hasn\u2019t become frizzy after the walk in the rain. He is patient with my name, making sure to pronounce it correctly. I like that he doesn\u2019t ask me where I\u2019m from. I don\u2019t feel inclined to ask either, he is of this place through and through. He is nothing like the men who are familiar to me, with their deepset eyes and dark hair. He has a gentle face with pale blue eyes and streaked blonde hair. Golden Boy, I think.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you drinking?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cVodka Red Bull.\u201d I lie. \u201cYou?\u201d I point at his drink.<\/p>\n \u201cCoke.\u201d He finishes the black liquid in his glass. \u201cI\u2019m actually going to get a beer.\u201d He gets up and leaves me alone with the people on the couch. I smile and will for Meltem to show up. He comes back with a bottle and a glass.<\/p>\n \u201cHere, I got you another drink.\u201d I quietly take the glass and turn it in my hand.<\/p>\n \u201cVodka Red Bull,\u201d he smiles. I nod politely. I curse myself for having lied. Either be the way you seem or seem the way you are,<\/em> Rumi.<\/p>\n I place the glass on the low table in front of me. He takes a swig of beer and talks to me about his work. Meltem creeps up behind me with her new beau<\/em>, Alex, Golden Boy\u2019s friend.<\/p>\n \u201cThere you are!\u201d I\u2019m in familiar territory again. Me against Meltem, the bright backdrop to my earthiness. She kisses my cheek again and again. I smell the liquor on her breath.<\/p>\n \u201cWe had some pre-drinks, you know, saving for the big trip.\u201d She winks and smiles her white-tooth smile. \u201cI see you\u2019ve met Alex\u2019s friend,\u201d she whispers loudly into my ear and grins.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s nothing like that.\u201d I say quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, yeah, don\u2019t I know.\u201d She says and points two fingers at me, which are meant to indicate that she is watching me and laughs. She tugs at Alex\u2019s shirt sleeve. She looks stunning when she stands up straight. The straps of her tight black dress are asymmetrical and show off her toned shoulders and biceps. She points at us, \u201cdrinks?\u201d before gliding gracefully in her heels toward the bar, Alex in tow.<\/p>\n Golden Boy smiles at me, like we\u2019re sharing a private joke.<\/p>\n I shift uncomfortably in my seat and look at the drink in front of me.<\/p>\n The glass is sweating.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so rude,\u201d he says, \u201cprost<\/em>.\u201d He holds up his bottle so I have no choice but to take the glass with the drink into my hand. He looks into my eyes as he takes a sip.<\/p>\n Under his gaze, I bring the glass to my lips and drink. Your prayers won\u2019t be heard for thirty days<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cI want to travel to places no one really thinks about visiting.\u201d He says and continues, \u201clike, who thinks about going to Kazakhstan or Uzbekistan?\u201d He gives me a wide smile. I can feel his breath when he talks. I can smell the washing powder on his clothes. Cleanliness. I want to touch his arm.<\/p>\n Meltem and Alex are back from the bar. Meltem talks about their upcoming trip to Southeast Asia and we listen to her politely. Whenever I look at Golden Boy, he\u2019s staring at me. I take small sips of my drink and sit back to feel its effect. Like my mind is dissolving bit by bit. One must always be conscious of one\u2019s actions. <\/em><\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s dance!\u201d Meltem shoots up and shakes her hips to the music. She climbs on the table, shimmying her body like a belly dancer. Her thick black hair touches her shoulders elegantly as she moves her head up and stretches her arms toward the ceiling.<\/p>\n \u201cThis place is a drag, let\u2019s go to a proper club.\u201d She declares as she sits down and puts her head on Alex\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n I look at my watch. It\u2019s almost midnight. I\u2019ve missed the evening prayer and it\u2019s past night time prayer.<\/p>\n \u201cMy father will be up, waiting for me,\u201d I tell her. She pouts her lips like a little girl.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I came out for you, did I not?\u201d I say and smile.<\/p>\n Golden Boy announces he won\u2019t be joining them at the club either and I feel a tingle of joy run down my arms. We go outside.<\/p>\n Meltem and I hug, kiss cheeks. She hangs onto Alex\u2019s shoulder and her bare legs stretch into the night.<\/p>\n Golden Boy turns to me. \u201cThis way?\u201d he asks.<\/p>\n We walk together toward the U-Bahn. The university district\u2019s streets are neat and look clean at night. I\u2019m giddy as we walk and talk.<\/p>\n He stops, pointing at the university building, and says, \u201cit\u2019s pretty at night.\u201d<\/p>\n I tell him that it was built in the nineteenth century, but the university was actually founded in the fifteenth century in Ingolstadt. He smiles. He knows this already, but doesn\u2019t say so. I smile back, nervous. He bends towards me, I instinctively hold my breath. I\u2019m afraid someone will see me. But as he leans in, I take the risk, my head still a little loose from the drink. He kisses me softly and blood rushes from my head to my feet. He pushes me toward the column of the building and my shoulders are pressed against the cold stone as his hands go to my back and I push him away.<\/p>\n \u201cDid I do something wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, it\u2019s just that I\u2019m\u2013\u201d I feel embarrassed as I say this, do people say this? \u201cI\u2019m ticklish on my back.\u201d<\/p>\n He laughs. My shoulders relax. I want him to kiss me again, but instead he takes my hand and we walk through the city.<\/p>\n \u201cI love it at night time,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n We walk through passages and alleys and end up at the Wittelsbach Fountain. The stone horse looks blue when it is lit up, its expression terrified and beastly. The sound of the water brings me back to the Manavgat Fountain in Antalya. The heat of Turkey\u2019s summer humidity next to the waterfalls over jagged rocks. We kiss by the fountain, shielded from the road and prying eyes by the flowing water and the darkness of the trees behind it.<\/p>\n I feel like I\u2019ve shed a skin. I\u2019m in someone else\u2019s life. I sit by the fountain and slip out of my ballerinas. I place my feet in the water.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d I say, \u201cto my favourite place.\u201d<\/p>\n We arrive in front of the town hall when I reluctantly check my watch again. It\u2019s almost 1.30. My hand automatically searches for my phone and I see that my father has called me three times. I mute it.<\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d He says and looks up at the town hall building. \u201cThis is so touristy.\u201d He lifts his hands and drops them back down in mock disappointment.<\/p>\n \u201cThe Glockenspiel is legendary.\u201d I smile.<\/p>\n We kiss again by the entrance of the town hall. He gently pushes my breast with his hand when he whispers into my ear.<\/p>\n \u201cI want to sleep with you.\u201d<\/p>\n My body freezes and I untangle myself from him. My face is hot and the blood in my veins excited. Does it happen so fast? The previous buzz drains out of me. The impossibility of everything we both want suddenly builds a tall wall in front of us.<\/p>\n \u201cI have to go home.\u201d I say. I feel unfamiliar in myself.<\/p>\n \u201cOk.\u201d He says and backing away from me, drops his arms by his side. I can\u2019t tell if he is annoyed or disappointed.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll walk you to a taxi,\u201d he offers.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, thank you.\u201d I kiss him on the cheek and jog toward the taxis behind the town hall. I\u2019m out of breath when I tell the driver the address. The city flies by me, now marked by the spots we kissed.<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n The living room light is on when I enter our small apartment. My father is asleep on the couch, his head slumped on his left shoulder. There is an empty cereal bowl in front of him with a spoon in it. I gently shake his arm and tell him I\u2019m back.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere have you been?\u201d He asks. I am standing above him, and in the yellow light of the living room the skin on his face looks like old leather, creased and worn.<\/p>\n \u201cMeltem came late so we stayed a bit longer.\u201d I look at the red patterns of the carpet underneath my feet.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you answer my calls?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was very loud.\u201d I look at the two moles on his hands.<\/p>\n \u201cMake sure to keep your phone by your side on nights like this. Don\u2019t keep us worrying.\u201d He stands up and I hold my breath as he kisses my forehead. His bare feet drag on the carpets as he makes his way to the bedroom. The thinworn pyjamas soften his frame.<\/p>\n I sit on the couch that is still warm from his nap. Something is jabbing into my thigh. I hold up my thumb. The top of the nail is coming off. I look at it, curious.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n One must always bury one\u2019s nails and hair under the earth, lest someone should use them for black magic and bring you off the righteous path.<\/em> My aunt had told me this in my parents village as she clipped my nails and placed them in the dry earth behind my grandmother\u2019s hut.<\/p>\n I pull off the rest of the nail. I inhale. I hold it up to the dim living room light. Half moon in my hand.<\/p>\n I drop it into the cereal bowl, like it is the easiest thing to do.<\/p>\n I switch off the lights and walk blindly to my bedroom. The clock in the hallway ticks loudly. I open the door and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. My prayer rug hangs quietly off the foot of my bed. I lie down in the bed and look at the red digits of my alarm clock. Morning prayer, soon.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I wake up before the alarm. In the darkness before dawn, I walk around my bed and step into the bathroom. In a few hours, the bells of the neighbourhood church will ring. I welcome the first splash of water on my face, it jolts through my body. My mind is still with the dream. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":16171,"template":"","categories":[44,10],"class_list":["post-16348","stsp_text","type-stsp_text","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-issue-18","category-prosa"],"yoast_head":"\n