Memo is a shortened form of “Mehmed”, Zeynel’s first given name – and it’s the nickname his closest friends and family use.
↓ Transcript
Selim looks at the two teenagers apologetically. “I'm sorry I took so long. It was chaos! I –”
He pauses, noticing that Ayse and Zeynel are sitting cordially at the table, surrounded by carpets rolled up and ready for storage.
He looks at his daughter, expecting answers. “Is the Hanim already here?”
Ayse replies, “She just left.”
Selim jokes, “From fright?”
Ayse snorts, unable to believe her father would tease her like that. “No! We actually sold something. Hanim's picking it up next week before her son's wedding.”
Selim looks in awe at the both of them. He asks, “We…? Which carpet is it you sold?”
Ayse says, with a hint of pride, “Cousin Sofia's red one.”
Selim couldn't contain his excitement. “Oh! That one is a jewel! Bravo!”
He swoops down to embrace Ayse tightly, pride swelling in his chest. To Zeynel he gives a playful tug at the hair.
Selim says, “Ayse I already know is brilliant. But you? A Hafizi and a merchant! What aren't you good at?”
Zeynel blushes. “You're too kind, celebi. But it's all Ayse's doing, and of course, your family's beautiful carpets.”
Selim laughs, and hugs them both. “Precious children.”
--
The conversation during dinner is wonderful. Everyone else’s day turned out perfect. Efraim and Zeyneb enjoyed their tour of the small town and the local madrasah. The Mugadassis were overjoyed at the sale of an expensive and beautiful carpet to a noble family. To all this, they celebrate with dishes of stuffed eggplant, bread and lots of lamb (known in Turkish as patlican dolmasi, pide, and kuzu guvec). By the end of the dinner, everyone is delighted, fed and bursting with hope for the future.
Zeynel is about to leave the room with his baby brother and two younger sisters, when the deep rumble of his father's voice catches his attention.
“Memo habibi?”
Zeynel asks with genuine, gentle deference, “Yes, baba?”
He pauses, noticing that Ayse and Zeynel are sitting cordially at the table, surrounded by carpets rolled up and ready for storage.
He looks at his daughter, expecting answers. “Is the Hanim already here?”
Ayse replies, “She just left.”
Selim jokes, “From fright?”
Ayse snorts, unable to believe her father would tease her like that. “No! We actually sold something. Hanim's picking it up next week before her son's wedding.”
Selim looks in awe at the both of them. He asks, “We…? Which carpet is it you sold?”
Ayse says, with a hint of pride, “Cousin Sofia's red one.”
Selim couldn't contain his excitement. “Oh! That one is a jewel! Bravo!”
He swoops down to embrace Ayse tightly, pride swelling in his chest. To Zeynel he gives a playful tug at the hair.
Selim says, “Ayse I already know is brilliant. But you? A Hafizi and a merchant! What aren't you good at?”
Zeynel blushes. “You're too kind, celebi. But it's all Ayse's doing, and of course, your family's beautiful carpets.”
Selim laughs, and hugs them both. “Precious children.”
--
The conversation during dinner is wonderful. Everyone else’s day turned out perfect. Efraim and Zeyneb enjoyed their tour of the small town and the local madrasah. The Mugadassis were overjoyed at the sale of an expensive and beautiful carpet to a noble family. To all this, they celebrate with dishes of stuffed eggplant, bread and lots of lamb (known in Turkish as patlican dolmasi, pide, and kuzu guvec). By the end of the dinner, everyone is delighted, fed and bursting with hope for the future.
Zeynel is about to leave the room with his baby brother and two younger sisters, when the deep rumble of his father's voice catches his attention.
“Memo habibi?”
Zeynel asks with genuine, gentle deference, “Yes, baba?”
