Memories of turkish coffee

I am sitting in a small restaurant drinking a cup of turkish coffee. Unfortunately, it's almost impossible to find turkish coffee in America. Is it so hard to make?

All my late childhood was spent in little Odessa cafes that served only turkish coffee (probably because they didn't have those convenient coffeemakers they use in America). I would be sitting in one of those small cafes with my best friend at the time, drinking a cup of coffee. She would be smoking, and I would try to convince her to stop. It was shocking to me at one time that she started smoking, but little by little I've grown to love the smell of a cigarette mixed with the smell of coffee. I still love it now.

We would tell each other stories about school. We talked about soccer (or football, as we called it in Europe). We both loved soccer, which was strange for girls at that time and place - only men played soccer, and only men liked it. And then she would tell me about her boyfriends and other friends, and all of her adventures.

Unfortunately, her other friends turned out to be the wrong crowd. They taught her to smoke, and eventually they taught her to drink. I saw less and less of her, and so did her parents. She run away from home a few times. Last time she run away was a week before I was supposed to leave to America. The police was searching for her all over the city. My heart was heavy. If it wasn't enough that I had to leave - leave all my friends, my city that I loved dearly, leave little cafes and turkish coffee - I had to leave without knowing what happened to my friend. For all I knew she could be dead, and I would never find out. Luckily, she was not. She appeared 2 days before my departure. I could sigh easily - at least she was home safe. But her life did not become any better. Never, ever.

I often hear from my friends that I am too protective of my kids. "Everybody should be allowed to make mistakes", - they say, - "and learn from them." "Most people make mistakes in their childhood, and they turn out fine." This is true, and there are enough mistakes to go around. What people don't realize very often, is that some mistakes you made in your teenage years, could haunt you a lifetime. I saw it happened. Moreover, it almost happened to me. I was lucky enough to escape. My friend was not. From my own experience, I know which mistakes are harmless and can be sorted out by the kids, and which are dangerous. I can't protect my kids from every mistake, but I can try to teach them to trust me and ask for help if they are ever in trouble.

I am sitting in a small restaurant drinking a cup of turkish coffee. I am thinking of my friend.