Turkey finally had me, after England had lost after being infiltrated by a German spy who sacrificed us to Messi and co-surrendering on the battlefield. The following day I refused to go to the bazaar with my wife. “Why not ?” “You know what I’m hiding from.” I stared at her in fear. “The Geçmiş Olsuns, they would attack from all sides,” I pleaded.
It was of course well deserved Karma. When first playing with this word on a bus, I was talking to a guy who supported Eskişehirspor, his team had slided down multiple divisions one after another, I said, yes you guessed it. He laughed but it was cutting and now I was paying the price.
Don’t get me wrong, the word is in fact the cuddliest on the plane. Hospitals are a field day for it. Everybody says it to everyone and you feel a part of that great collective of dead or nearly dead. Even a minor limp like mine and I’m am treated like a sultan. With my now love of the word and perfect understanding of how it works, we arrived one day at the door of our very religious neighbours, where there had been a recent death in the family. There were more shoes outside than a department store. I bowed my head respectfully, they were very good people and said “Geç…” Before I could finish, my wife leaped at the words and rammed them down my throat. “He means…” and squirmed her and my way out of it. “You don’t use it like that.” “I was offering condolences.” After a heated row I blamed the word and vowed never to say it again. No please don’t say Geçmiş Olsun for that.
Gerizekalı, now this is rather harmless word in UK. If used in banter it can even be affectionate. So when seven strapping Turkish lads got on the coach and sat near us and one said he supported Manchester City, my teams arch rival, I said, yeah I know, “Gerizekalı.” The oxygen in the coach went thin, my wife’s jaw dropped, the guy was in shock and his big strong friends looked at me long and hard. It was too late, my wife could not grab the words, they were out. Quickly she threw water on the fire and in time the flames died down the embers still burning till we left the coach. “Güle güle.” Now that’s right.
The summer is upon us and I’ve learnt that Turkish people use the German word Dummkopf. This too is like the former, used by and large harmlessly in Germany. So when I’m on the beach and a child’s ball comes near us I’ll playfully say to the boy “dummkopf” or if a gang of lads are making a barbeque or being noisy, “dummkopf” I will jokingly shout, now what could go wrong with that… (DM/VK)
Source: BIANET
