Welcome to our workshop! Ever made a pot before?
1Her sabah çay içerim: the aorist
You’ve been saying Teşekkür ederim since Lesson 1. Since Lesson 6 you’ve been apologising with Affedersiniz. Leaving the hotel in Lesson 14 you heard Yine bekleriz, and in Lesson 15 you called the waiter over with Bakar mısınız? Every time, we said: take it whole, it’s a Lesson 21 form. Well, here’s Lesson 21. All those phrases share one tense, and from today it’s yours.
In Turkish it’s called geniş zaman, the “wide tense”. Sounds mysterious; the idea isn’t. TDK’s dictionary says it spans past, present and future all at once. It’s the tense for what’s always so, what usually happens, what’s the rule: “I drink tea”, “cats like fish”, “the sun rises in the east”. Not right now, but in general. Grammar books in English call it the aorist.
Put it next to Lesson 4’s -yor. Çay içiyorum: I’m drinking tea, right now, glass in hand. Çay içerim: I drink tea — I’m a tea person. English splits it the same way, “I’m drinking” against “I drink”, so you already have the feel for this one. Turkish just does it with an ending.
Şu anda çay içiyorum. — I’m drinking tea right now.
Her sabah çay içerim. — I drink tea every morning.
Here’s how it goes together: the stem, then an r — with a vowel in front of it or without — then the person. The person endings are the very first ones, Lesson 1’s, as with -mış: -ım, -sın, nothing, -ız, -sınız, -lar. The vowel before the r is the stem’s choice, and there are three ways it can go.
One. The stem ends in a vowel: just r, nothing else. Bekle-r, oku-r, başla-r. Demek and yemek have de and ye for stems, so der is “says” and yer is “eats”.
bekler, okur, başlar — waits, reads, starts
der, yer — says, eats
Two. A one-syllable stem ending in a consonant: -ar or -er, two teams, as with -lar. Yap-ar, iç-er, sev-er, bak-ar. On the way, gitmek and etmek soften their t to d, as in gidiyorum and gideceğim: gider, eder.
yapar, içer, sever, bakar — does, drinks, loves, looks
gider, eder — goes, does
And here come the first answers. Teşekkür ederim is “I do thanks”: etmek, eder, plus -im. Bakar mısınız? is “will you look (our way)?”: bakmak, bakar. And the cat in Lesson 19’s proverb that “pis” dermiş? That’s der, “says”, with -miş on top: “says, so they say”.
The second way has thirteen exceptions: one-syllable verbs that take -ır, four teams, instead of -ar/-er. Sounds grim, but look at the list. You know ten of the thirteen already, and they’re some of the hardest-working verbs in the language.
alır, bilir, bulur, durur, gelir — takes, knows, finds, stands, comes
görür, kalır, olur, verir, vurur — sees, stays, happens, gives, hits
ölür, sanır, varır — dies, supposes, arrives — the three new ones
People learn them as a list, but your ear will do it better than your eye: gelir, görür, olur, bilir — say them aloud and they’re nearly a rhyme. The handiest new one is sanırım, “I think”, “I reckon”: sanmak is “to suppose”. It makes a good neighbour for Lesson 18’s galiba.
Sanırım yağmur yağacak. — I think it’s going to rain.
Three. A stem longer than one syllable, ending in a consonant: -ır, four teams. Çalış-ır, konuş-ur, düşün-ür, öğren-ir.
çalışır, konuşur, düşünür, öğrenir — works, talks, thinks, learns
Now one verb, all the way through:
içerim, içersin, içer — I drink, you drink, she drinks
içeriz, içersiniz, içerler — we, you, they drink
When do you need it? First, habits: what you do every day, on Thursdays, always.
Her sabah yedide kalkarım. — I get up at seven every morning.
Sevim teyze her perşembe akşamı dizi izler. — Sevim teyze watches her dizi every Thursday evening.
Second, what’s true always and for everyone: a rule, a law of nature, the way things are done. Yine bekleriz belongs here too — “we’ll be expecting you again” isn’t about tonight, it’s a host’s promise to every guest.
Kediler balık sever. — Cats like fish.
Güneş doğudan doğar. — The sun rises in the east.
Yine bekleriz! — Do come again!
And third, the future — only softer than Lesson 17’s -acak. -acak says “it’s settled”. The aorist says “happy to”, “probably”, “why not”. Yarın geleceğim: I’m coming tomorrow, it’s agreed. Yarın gelirim: I’ll drop by tomorrow, most likely, gladly. That’s why it gets on so well with belki, “maybe”, and with volunteering: the doorbell goes — Ben açarım! — “I’ll get it!”
Yarın geleceğim. — Yarın gelirim. — I’m coming tomorrow (settled). — I’ll come tomorrow (most likely).
Belki akşam ararım. — Maybe I’ll ring this evening.
Merak etme, ben yaparım! — Don’t worry, I’ll do it!
2İçmem, içmez: the aorist says no
The negative follows Lesson 16’s first rule, straight after the stem. But the aorist has its own: instead of the r you put -maz or -mez. And section 1’s three ways disappear here: -maz is the same for everyone — gelmek, okumak and çalışmak alike.
One catch, in “I” and “we”. There the z drops out: not gelmezim but gelmem. Not gelmeziz but gelmeyiz. Every other person holds on to its z.
içmem, içmezsin, içmez — I don’t drink, you don’t, she doesn’t
içmeyiz, içmezsiniz, içmezler — we, you, they don’t drink
The meaning stays wide: “I never do”, “that doesn’t happen”, “I won’t”. Ben kahve içmem: I don’t drink coffee, at all, it’s not for me. Bugün kahve içmiyorum: I’m not having coffee today — ask me tomorrow.
Ben kahve içmem. — I don’t drink coffee.
Bugün kahve içmiyorum. — I’m not having coffee today.
Kediler sudan hoşlanmaz. — Cats don’t like water.
Can korku filmi izlemez. Gözlerini kapatır! — Can doesn’t watch horror films. He shuts his eyes!
And now the ones you’ve carried since Lesson 6. Olur and olmaz are the aorist of olmak. Olur: “it happens”, “it can be”, “that works”. Olmaz: “it doesn’t happen”, “it can’t be”, “that won’t do”. Hence last lesson’s Menemende soğan olmaz: “onion doesn’t go in menemen”. And Denizsiz tatil olmaz: “there’s no holiday without the sea — or without Deniz”. And Komşuya boş tabak gitmez, from Lesson 6 as well, is gitmek, gider, gitmez: “an empty plate doesn’t go to a neighbour”. A rule for all time — which is exactly what the wide tense is for.
Olur. — Olmaz. — Sure. — No way.
Denizsiz tatil olmaz! — It’s no holiday without the sea!
Komşuya boş tabak gitmez. — An empty plate never goes back to a neighbour.
3Bakar mısınız? Questions and requests
The question sits the way it does with -yor, -acak and -mış: mi stands on its own and takes the person with it — gelir misin? Only “they” keep -lar on the verb: gelirler mi? That makes five tenses and still just two seating plans: four put mi before the person, and -dı alone puts it after.
Akşam bize gelir misin? — Gelirim! — Will you come round this evening? — I will!
Kediler balık sever mi? — Sever, tabii! — Do cats like fish? — Of course they do!
And here’s why you’ll use this question every day. “Will you do it?” in the aorist is a polite request, or an offer. Bakar mısınız? is literally “do you look?”, “would you look?” — which is why the waiter comes over. You can ask for anything this way:
Tuzu verir misin? — Would you pass the salt?
Kapıyı açar mısın? — Could you get the door?
Bana yardım eder misiniz? — Would you help me?
Çay içer misiniz? — İçerim, teşekkür ederim! — Will you have some tea? — I will, thank you!
Yardım etmek is “to help” — literally “to do help”, with the same etmek as teşekkür ederim. Who you help goes in the dative: bana yardım edin.
And at last, Lesson 6’s Affedersiniz. Affetmek is “to forgive”. Affeder is “forgives”, so affedersiniz is “you’ll forgive (me)”. Politeness doesn’t get more confident than that: you’re sure in advance you’ll be forgiven. To a friend it’s shorter: Affedersin.
affetmek → affeder → affedersiniz — to forgive → forgives → you’ll forgive (me)
One more for every day: Ne dersin? — “what do you say?”. It’s family to last lesson’s Sence?, and you answer it with the aorist too.
Bu akşam sinemaya gidelim mi? Ne dersin? — Olur! — Shall we go to the cinema tonight? What do you say? — Sure!
And the negative question is -maz plus mi: Gelmez misin? — “won’t you come?”, which really means “oh, do come”. It’s how Turkish coaxes. Bir çay daha içmez misin? — “won’t you have another tea?”. You’ve known how that one ends since Lesson 1.
Bir çay daha içmez misin? — Won’t you have another tea?
Bize gelmez misiniz? — Won’t you come round to us?
4Yapabilirim: I can
Now for “can”. Turkish has no separate verb for it — it has an ending. The stem, then -a or -e, then bil — yes, bilmek, “to know” — and then any tense you like. Yap-a-bil-ir-im: “I can do it”, almost literally “I know how to do it”.
Two details. After a vowel, Lesson 16’s glue letter y steps in: oku-y-a-bil-ir. And in the aorist bil takes -ir, never -er — bilmek is one of section 1’s thirteen. So the end is always the same, -bilir, and only the a or e in front of it changes. Yemek and demek turn their e into i, like Lesson 17’s yiyecek and diyecek: yiyebilir, diyebilir.
yapabilirim, gelebilirim — I can do it, I can come
okuyabilir, bekleyebilir — can read, can wait
It does three jobs. The first is ability: I can, I’m able to, I know how.
Türkçe biraz konuşabilirim. — I can speak a little Turkish.
Bu otobüs elli kişi alabilir. — This bus can take fifty people.
Türkçe zor mu? Hayır! Bakın, siz de okuyabiliyorsunuz. — Is Turkish hard? No! Look, you can already read it.
The second is permission. “May I?” in Turkish is -abilir miyim? It doesn’t get more polite, and you’ll need it on day one.
Girebilir miyim? — May I come in?
Burada oturabilir miyim? — May I sit here?
Fotoğraf çekebilir miyim? — May I take a photo?
Bana yardım edebilir misiniz? — Could you help me?
The third is possibility: “might”, “could well”. Olabilir on its own is one word and an answer to almost anything: “could be!”. It’s section 2’s olur plus “can”.
Yarın yağmur yağabilir. — It might rain tomorrow.
Akşam soğuk olabilir. — It might be cold this evening.
Olabilir! — Could be!
One more thing: bil behaves like any verb, so every tense you know works with it. Yapabildim is “I managed”, “I did it”. Yapabileceğim is “I’ll be able to”.
Sonunda yapabildim! — I finally managed it!
Yarın gelebilecek misin? — Will you be able to come tomorrow?
Bu çok kolay, bunu herkes yapabilir. — It’s dead easy, anyone can do it.
5Yapamam: I can’t
“Can’t” is trickier, and here’s the lesson’s main trap. The bil disappears altogether. The stem, -a or -e, and straight away the negative -ma/-me: yap-a-ma-m, “I can’t do it”. Not yapabilmem — nobody says that.
After that come the same endings as section 2’s aorist “no”, with the same catch in “I” and “we”. And the same glue y after a vowel: okuyamam, bekleyemem.
yapamam, yapamazsın, yapamaz — I can’t, you can’t, she can’t (do it)
yapamayız, yapamazsınız, yapamazlar — we, you, they can’t
It works in the other tenses too, still with no bil. Gelemiyorum: I can’t come, right now, no way. Gelemedim: I couldn’t come. Gelemeyeceğim: I won’t be able to.
Bugün gelemiyorum, çok işim var. — I can’t come today, I’ve got loads of work.
Dün gelemedim. Affedersin! — I couldn’t come yesterday. Sorry!
Kapıyı açamıyorum! — I can’t get the door open!
A question with “can’t” is coaxing again. Biraz daha kalamaz mısın? — “couldn’t you stay a little longer?”. It’s what the host says when a guest gets up for the third time.
Biraz daha kalamaz mısın? — Couldn’t you stay a bit longer?
And remember the cat in Lesson 19’s proverb? Kedi uzanamadığı ciğere “pis” dermiş. Uzan-ama-dı-ğı — there it is, -ama: “that it couldn’t reach”. Keep taking the end of that word whole for now, but the middle is yours to see.
Last, a trick. Put the negative in front of -abil instead of in its place: gel-me-y-e-bil-ir-im, “I may not come”. Not “I can’t”, but “maybe I won’t”.
Bu akşam gelmeyebilirim. — I may not come this evening.
Can yine geç kalabilir. Ya da hiç gelmeyebilir! — Can might be late again. Or he might not turn up at all!
And if you’re feeling brave, you can stack both: gelemeyebilirim, “I might not be able to come”. It sounds like a tongue-twister, and doubles as one. You won’t hear it often, so recognising it is plenty.
gelemeyebilirim — I might not be able to come
6Hem… hem, ne… ne: words that come in pairs
And the last bit of grammar: pairs. Lesson 10 gave you ya da, “or”. Today you meet the whole family — words you say twice, one in front of each of two things.
Hem … hem is “both … and”. The second one often picks up a de: hem … hem de.
Bu pazarda domates hem ucuz hem güzel. — The tomatoes at this market are both cheap and good.
Hem yorgunum hem de açım. — I’m tired and hungry, both.
Ya … ya is “either … or”. The second one often picks up a da: ya … ya da.
Ya bugün gelirim ya yarın. — I’ll come either today or tomorrow.
Ya gel ya da ara! — Either come round or ring!
Ne … ne is “neither … nor”. English does exactly what Turkish does here: “I drink neither tea nor coffee”, with no “not” — because neither … nor is already the negative. Same in Turkish, and the verb stays positive: Ne çay içerim ne kahve. Put in içmem and it’s a double negative, which Turkish schools mark as a mistake.
Ne çay içerim ne kahve. — I drink neither tea nor coffee.
Hava ne soğuk ne sıcak. — It’s neither cold nor hot.
Derse ne Ayşe geldi ne de Can. — Neither Ayşe nor Can came to the lesson.
And belki … belki: “maybe … or maybe”. You met belki in section 1 — “maybe”. As a pair it sounds like a shrug.
Belki bugün, belki yarın. — Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.
Belki gelir, belki gelmez. — He might come, he might not.
7Türkiye up close: Avanos and the Red River’s clay
Back in Lesson 9 your seas were black and white — Karadeniz and Akdeniz — and we said kara and ak had survived in names. Red has a word of its own too, besides everyday kırmızı: kızıl, “bright red”. Kırmızı, TDK’s dictionary says, came from Arabic; kızıl is Turkish’s own. The Red Sea is Kızıldeniz. And the longest river that runs all the way from source to sea inside Türkiye is the Kızılırmak, the “Red River”: 1,355 kilometres, from the mountains of Sivas down to that same Karadeniz.
On its bank, in Cappadocia, sits the little town of Avanos, and it lives off that river quite literally: the clay comes from the river’s old beds and the hills round about. It’s red clay — full of haematite, an iron mineral — and the pots come out anywhere from pale yellow to deep red. A pot is a çömlek, a potter a çömlekçi, and the pot is thrown on a çark, a wheel turned by foot. The Ministry of Culture says pots have been thrown on the wheel in Avanos since the Hittites. That’s more than three thousand years.
Usta çarkı ayağıyla çevirir. — The potter turns the wheel by foot.
Kızıl toprak ırmaktan gelir. — The red earth comes from the river.
Pots didn’t use to sit in a shop waiting for someone to buy them. They were packed into sacks, loaded on donkeys and taken round the markets of the towns nearby, and the long caravans went as far as Adana. Money didn’t always come into it. At the market, the cry went up:
Dolusuna bulguruna, pirincine, tuzuna, peynirine! — For its fill of bulgur, of rice, of salt, of cheese!
That was the price. You got the pot for as much bulgur or rice as it would hold. Dolu is Lesson 3’s “full”, dolusu “its fill”, and on the end come Lesson 7’s n and the dative — the same one as in kaça, “for how much?”, from Lesson 10: “for its fill”. A price without a single number in it. Mules, they say, were never used: a mule is skittish, and pots break. The ones that broke on the road were thrown to the roadside — and over the years the roads round Avanos filled up with the pieces.
The craft was more than a living here. Researchers have recorded that in the 1950s, Avanos used to say:
Çanak yapmayana kız vermezler. — They won’t give a daughter to a man who doesn’t make pots.
Vermezler is section 2’s aorist “no”: they don’t, and that’s that — it’s the rule. Yapmayana, “to one who doesn’t make”, has an ending that comes later on, so take it whole. A çanak is a wide clay bowl.
These days plastic has long since beaten clay in the kitchen, and the Avanos potters make more for visitors than for cooks. In the workshops you can sit down at the wheel yourself. Since 2017, Avanos çömleği has been a protected designation of origin: a real “Avanos pot” can only come from there. And in Cappadocia they serve testi kebabı. Meat and vegetables go into a clay jug, a testi, the neck is sealed with dough, and it sits in the oven for over two hours. It comes to the table whole and is broken open right in front of you — and sometimes they let the guest do the breaking.
Testiyi masada kırarlar. — They break the jug open at the table.
It’s a rare meal where breaking the crockery isn’t a disaster but the best bit. Then again, in a town that’s been making pots for three thousand years, nobody seems too worried about running out.
8Dialogue: the pot that sat down
Saturday. Ayşe and Can have come to a pottery workshop for the first time — in their own town, not in Avanos. But the potter comes from there. Can is sure from the door that he can do anything.
Usta:
Atölyemize hoş geldiniz! Hiç çömlek yaptınız mı?
Ayşe:
Hiç yapmadım. Ama çok merak ediyorum.
Never. But I’m dying to try.
Can:
Ben de yapmadım. Ama bence zor değil. Ben her şeyi yapabilirim!
Nor have I. But it’s not hard, if you ask me. I can do anything!
Usta:
Güzel. Çamuru çarkın ortasına koyun. Ayağınızla çarkı çevirin. Yavaş, yavaş…
Good. Put the clay in the middle of the wheel. Turn the wheel with your foot. Slowly, slowly…
Can:
Ayşe, bak! Benim çarkım çok hızlı dönüyor!
Ayşe, look! My wheel’s going really fast!
Usta:
Çok hızlı olmaz. Çamur hızlı ayağı sevmez.
Too fast won’t do. Clay doesn’t like a fast foot.
Ayşe:
Siz her gün çömlek yapar mısınız?
Do you make pots every day?
Usta:
Her gün yaparım. Ben Avanosluyum. Hem babam hem dedem çömlekçi.
Every day. I’m from Avanos. My father’s a potter, and my grandfather too.
Can:
Usta, bakar mısınız? Benim çömleğim… oturuyor!
Excuse me? My pot’s… sitting down!
Usta:
Olur, olur. İlk çömlek her zaman oturur.
It happens. A first pot always sits down.
Ayşe:
Can, o çömlek değil. Tabak!
Can, that’s not a pot. It’s a plate!
Can:
Tabak mı? Tamam… Kurabiye’nin tabağı! Ben zaten tabak yapmak istedim!
A plate? Fine… Kurabiye’s plate! I meant to make a plate anyway!
Ayşe:
Usta, ben ince bir vazo yapabilir miyim?
Could I make a thin vase?
Usta:
Deneyebilirsiniz. Elleriniz her zaman ıslak olsun.
You can try. Keep your hands wet the whole time.
Can:
Ayşe! Seninki bir vazo! Nasıl yapabiliyorsun?
Ayşe! Yours is an actual vase! How are you doing that?
Ayşe:
Bilmiyorum. Ben yapmıyorum, ellerim yapıyor.
No idea. It isn’t me, it’s my hands.
Can:
Benim ellerim ne dinler ne durur!
My hands don’t listen and they don’t stop!
Usta:
Bir daha deneyin. Çamur sabırlı eli sever.
Try again. Clay likes a patient hand.
Can:
Usta! Bakın! Oturmuyor! Duruyor!
Look! It isn’t sitting down! It’s standing up!
Usta:
Aferin! Bu bir testi olabilir. Ya da bir bardak.
Well done! That could be a jug. Or a cup.
Can:
Bence testi!
A jug, I’d say!
Ayşe:
Bence bardak. Hem çok küçük hem çok kısa.
A cup, I’d say. It’s very small and very short.
Usta:
Pazartesi fırına girer, cuma hazır olur.
It goes in the kiln on Monday and it’ll be ready on Friday.
Can:
Cuma gelebilir miyiz?
Can we come on Friday?
Usta:
Tabii gelebilirsiniz. Yine bekleriz!
Of course you can. Do come again!
Atölye is a workshop; çamur is clay — and mud in general, literally “wet earth”. Çevirmek is “to turn”. İnce is “thin”, sabırlı “patient”. And Can’s pot “sitting down” is his own word; the potter just ran with it. Notice how much of this is aorist: Her gün yaparım, İlk çömlek her zaman oturur, Çamur sabırlı eli sever — all “this is how it always goes”. And at the end, Yine bekleriz — not a whole phrase any more, but one you can take apart.
9Reading
Last lesson the cat on the stairs of number twelve got a name — Kurabiye, “Biscuit” — and chose it itself, running to the rustle of a biscuit packet in Efe’s hands. And back in Lesson 17, anneanne Nermin invited the whole building to İzmir. It’s still summer. Somebody’s going. Somebody’s staying with the cat.
Kurabiye’nin kuralları
Eight rules for a cat, one tree and one phone call to İzmir.
Hâlâ yaz tatili.
It’s still the summer holidays.
Efe’nin ailesi yarın İzmir’e gidiyor, Nermin anneanneye.
Tomorrow Efe’s family are off to İzmir, to anneanne Nermin’s.
Bir hafta orada kalacaklar.
They’ll be staying there a week.
Deniz gelemiyor: bu hafta çok işi var.
Deniz can’t come: he’s got a lot of work this week.
— Ama Deniz abi, Denizsiz tatil olmaz!
“But Deniz abi, it’s no holiday without Deniz!”
— Belki gelecek hafta gelirim, Efe.
“Maybe I’ll come next week, Efe.”
Efe biraz düşündü.
Efe thought about it for a moment.
— Peki, Kurabiye ne olacak?
“But what about Kurabiye?”
— Merak etme. Ona ben bakarım.
“Don’t worry. I’ll look after it.”
— Ama sen Kurabiye’yi tanımıyorsun!
“But you don’t know Kurabiye!”
— Tanımıyor muyum? Her gece benim paspasımda uyuyor!
“I don’t know it? It sleeps on my doormat every night!”
Efe cevap vermedi.
Efe didn’t answer.
Akşam Deniz’in paspasında bir kağıt vardı.
That evening there was a sheet of paper on Deniz’s doormat.
Efe söylemiş, Zeynep yazmış.
Efe must have said it and Zeynep written it down.
Kağıtta sekiz kural vardı:
There were eight rules on it:
Bir: Kurabiye sabah yedide kalkar.
One: Kurabiye gets up at seven in the morning.
İki: Önce esner, sonra senin kapına gelir ve “Miyav” der.
Two: first it yawns, then it comes to your door and says “Miaow”.
Üç: Kurabiye hem balık hem peynir sever.
Three: Kurabiye likes both fish and cheese.
Dört: Ama ne süt içer ne yoğurt yer.
Four: but it neither drinks milk nor eats yoghurt.
Beş: Kurabiye kurabiye yemez. Sadece paketin sesini sever.
Five: Kurabiye doesn’t eat biscuits. It just likes the sound of the packet.
Altı: Kurabiye ağaca çıkmaz. Korkar.
Six: Kurabiye doesn’t climb trees. It’s scared.
Yedi: Kurabiye her gece senin paspasında uyur.
Seven: Kurabiye sleeps on your doormat every night.
Sekiz: Kurabiye Türkçe anlamaz. Sadece kedice anlar.
Eight: Kurabiye doesn’t understand Turkish. Only Cat.
Deniz güldü: “Tamam. Bunu yapabilirim.”
Deniz laughed. “All right. I can do this.”
Pazartesi sabahı, saat yedi.
Monday morning, seven o’clock.
Deniz kapıyı açtı. Paspas boştu.
Deniz opened the door. The doormat was empty.
Saat sekiz. Kurabiye yok.
Eight o’clock. No Kurabiye.
Saat dokuzda Kurabiye merdivenden yavaşça indi.
At nine, Kurabiye came slowly down the stairs.
Bıyıkları beyazdı.
Its whiskers were white.
Yukarıdan Sevim teyzenin sesi geldi:
Sevim teyze’s voice came from upstairs:
— Günaydın, Deniz! Paşam her sabah bende yoğurt yer!
“Morning, Deniz! My Paşa has yoghurt at mine every morning!”
Deniz kağıda baktı. Dört: “Ne süt içer ne yoğurt yer.”
Deniz looked at the paper. Four: “It neither drinks milk nor eats yoghurt.”
Deniz güldü. Tabii. Kurabiye okuyamaz!
Deniz laughed. Of course. Kurabiye can’t read!
Çarşamba akşamı bahçeden bir ses geldi: “Miyav! Miyav!”
On Wednesday evening a sound came from the garden: “Miaow! Miaow!”
Kurabiye bahçedeki büyük ağaçtaydı.
Kurabiye was up the big tree in the garden.
Çok yukarıdaydı.
Very high up.
Deniz kağıda baktı. Altı: “Kurabiye ağaca çıkmaz. Korkar.”
Deniz looked at the paper. Six: “Kurabiye doesn’t climb trees. It’s scared.”
Ayşe ile Can koşup geldiler.
Ayşe and Can came running.
— Kurabiye ağaçta ve inemiyor!
“Kurabiye’s up the tree, and it can’t get down!”
— Merak etme, Deniz! Ben çıkarım!
“Don’t worry, Deniz! I’ll go up!”
Ayşe “Sen ağaca çıkabilir misin?” diye sordu.
“Can you climb trees?” asked Ayşe.
— Tabii çıkabilirim! Çok kolay!
“Of course I can! It’s dead easy!”
Can ağaca çıktı.
Can climbed the tree.
— Gel, Kurabiye… Gel, canım…
“Come on, Kurabiye… Come here, sweetheart…”
Kurabiye Can’a baktı ve bir üst dala çıktı.
Kurabiye looked at Can and climbed up to the next branch.
Şimdi hem Kurabiye ağaçta, hem Can.
Now Kurabiye was up the tree, and so was Can.
Can aşağı baktı.
Can looked down.
— Ayşe… Ben de inemiyorum!
“Ayşe… I can’t get down either!”
Yukarıdan Sevim teyzenin sesi geldi:
Sevim teyze’s voice came from upstairs:
— Merak etmeyin! Kedi iner. Ama Can inemez!
“Don’t worry! A cat always gets down. It’s Can who can’t!”
Deniz telefonu alıp Efe’yi aradı.
Deniz picked up the phone and rang Efe.
— Efe! Kurabiye ağaçta, Can da ağaçta! Ya ben de çıkarım ya itfaiyeyi ararım!
“Efe! Kurabiye’s up the tree, and so’s Can! Either I go up too, or I call the fire brigade!”
— İtfaiye mi? Hayır, Deniz abi! Beşinci kural! Paket!
“The fire brigade? No, Deniz abi! Rule five! The packet!”
Deniz eve koşup bir kurabiye paketi aldı.
Deniz ran home and grabbed a packet of biscuits.
Ağacın altında paketi yavaşça açtı.
Under the tree, he opened the packet slowly.
Kurabiye hemen aşağı indi!
Kurabiye was down in a flash!
Deniz’in önüne oturup “Miyav!” dedi.
It sat down in front of Deniz and said, “Miaow!”
Sonra Can da indi. Çok yavaş.
Then Can came down too. Very slowly.
— Bir kurabiye de bana! Ben de ağaçtaydım!
“A biscuit for me too! I was up the tree as well!”
Gece Deniz düşündü: “Kurabiye bu gece gelmeyebilir.”
That night Deniz thought, “Kurabiye might not come tonight.”
Kapıyı açtı.
He opened the door.
Kurabiye paspastaydı.
Kurabiye was on the doormat.
Deniz kağıda bir daha baktı. Yedi: “Kurabiye her gece senin paspasında uyur.”
Deniz looked at the paper again. Seven: “Kurabiye sleeps on your doormat every night.”
— İşte doğru bir kural! İyi geceler, Kurabiye.
“Well, there’s one true rule! Goodnight, Kurabiye.”
Kurabiye bir gözünü açıp “Miyav” dedi.
Kurabiye opened one eye and said, “Miaow.”
Sekizinci kural da doğru, galiba.
Looks like rule eight’s true as well.
Kural is “rule”. Bıyık is whiskers — or a moustache, on a person. Dal is a branch; bir üst dal is “the next branch up”. İtfaiye is the fire brigade. And Ona ben bakarım is bakmak with the dative, as in Lesson 5 — only “to look to someone” here means “to look after them”. And look at Sevim teyze’s line: Kedi iner. Ama Can inemez! The first is the aorist of a rule — “a cat always gets down” — and the second is the aorist’s “can’t”. The whole lesson in two short sentences.
1Why were Kurabiye’s whiskers white?
2Who couldn’t get down from the tree?
3Which of Efe’s rules turned out to be true?
10The lesson’s new words
Everything new from today, in the order it turned up. The ten old friends among the thirteen aren’t here — you’ve known alır, gelir and olur for ages; only the three new verbs are. The -abil and -ama forms you build yourself. Bulgur is bulgur in Turkish too; take çanak and yapmayana from the Avanos saying, and testi kebabı, whole.
New words
- ölmekto die
- sanmakto suppose; sanırım — I think
- varmakto arrive, to reach
- belkimaybe
- yardım etmekto help
- affetmekto forgive
- zorhard, difficult
- kolayeasy
- hem … hem deboth … and
- ya … ya daeither … or
- ne … neneither … nor
- kızılbright red
- ırmakriver
- çarkpotter’s wheel; wheel
- çömlekclay pot
- çömlekçipotter
- çevirmekto turn
- pirinçrice
- testiclay jug
- kırmakto break
- atölyeworkshop
- çamurclay; mud
- incethin
- vazovase
- sabırlıpatient
- kuralrule
- bıyıkwhiskers; moustache
- yukarıup, upstairs
- dalbranch
- itfaiyefire brigade
11Say it yourself
Out loud first, then check. Got it wrong? Good — that’s how it sticks. Peeking first just gives away the useful part.
I drink tea every morning
Her sabah çay içerim.
Can never gets up at five in the morning
Can sabah beşte kalkmaz.
would you help me? (politely)
Bana yardım eder misiniz?
may I come in?
Girebilir miyim?
I can’t come today
Bugün gelemem.
I drink neither tea nor coffee
Ne çay içerim ne kahve.
12Check yourself
Six items. A miss shows you the right answer, so getting it wrong here is useful too.
1Match each picture to its word.
2What does Çay içer misin? mean?
3Fill in the right form: “I don’t drink coffee (at all).”
Ben kahve ?
4Fill in the right form: “Ayşe comes home at six every evening.”
Ayşe her akşam eve saat altıda ?
5Fill in the right form: “I can’t come today.”
Bugün ?
6Which sentence is right?
13Homework
All of it out loud. The aorist is the tense about you: what you always do, what you never do, and what you can.
- Your ordinary day in the aorist: when you get up, what you drink in the morning, how you get about, when you go to bed. Five sentences.
- Three things you never do: Ben … -mam/-mem. Honestly.
- What can you do, and what can’t you? Three -abilirim and three -amam.
- Ask for five things politely, as in a café or at someone’s home: -r mısınız? and -abilir miyim?
- Describe yourself in pairs: Hem … hem … severim. Ne … ne … içerim.
- Write some rules, the way Efe did, for your cat, your neighbour or yourself. Eight rules, all in the aorist.