Phyllis and George

I now have a cat. I named her George, after Curious George that is.This name has been met with a surprising amount of understanding. Mysite mate thought this an unfit name for her, as it is a male’s nameand has decided that her real name is Georgiana. Another fellowvolunteer said her real name should be Georgia. She is a source ofnever ending jokes with locals who have seen her as she has orangehair just like me and therefore we were destined to be friends. Iactually found her in the flowerbed at my organization. She had twosiblings and was clearly the runt of the litter. I like her becauseshe was the only one that would come out and play or attempt toexplore the area outside of the flowerbed, despite her eyes beingalmost sealed shut with what looked like the feline version of pinkeye. When I returned to work after the three weeks in the states, shewas still there. So I took her home wrapped in a bandana thenimmediately bathed her. Now she is all clean and healthy. I have beentold by other volunteers and my parents (after a detailed phonedescription) that she is an orange tabby. To me, she is just George, acrazily curious and fearless wonder cat that has managed to get intoevery crack of my apartment without destroying anything. She has alsodeveloped an amazing habit of waking me by chewing on my ears… I haveto admit, I think I will always be a dog person at heart but it iskind of nice having something to stare at besides a slightly puffypink sparkly wall. (And yes, the wall paper in my apartment isdefinitely puffy, pink, and sparkly).
You may remember me mentioning that my host brother from my traininghost family was married back in October. Well him and his wife justhad a baby girl. Phyllis is the newest addition to my first familyhousehold. (Fi-lease would be the Turkish/Russian pronunciation). Sheis the first grandchild. I told my host mom it is hard to think of heras a grandmother now because she is only 42. Phyllis was born at 5 inthe morning the last week of July while I was in the states. I forgotwhat the family told me the name meant in Turkish but I rememberthinking it sounded extravagant. I was also glad that I was able tomeet Phyllis because she was so young. I even got to hold her when hermother needed to go to the restroom and cook dinner. My host motherkept saying that the baby was too young to see or understand what sheheard. However, she would also start crying within a minute of hermother leaving the room. Thus, Farida (her mother who is a totallyawesome girl that I really enjoy talking to when I visit my hostfamily) and I concluded that she can smell/sense her mother. Afterall,the baby would stop crying immediately upon being brought intowhatever room Fa was in. Phyllis looks exactly like Farida. I alsolearned a new Turkish tradition. When I was telling the family goodnight and wishing them a restful evening without too manyinterruptions from a hungry crying baby, I was instructed to pull outa strand of hair or a piece of string from my garment, place it acrossthe baby’s chest, and then say whatever it was my host mother had merepeat in order to properly tell the baby goodnight. It was reallyawesome visiting them again. Now I just have to wait for the end ofSeptember for my other host sister in my permanent host family to givebirth to her son. Then I will have two babies to play with.