Innkeeper Süleyman and I became fast friends.
He chuckled at the handwritten Turkish language cheat sheet I kept in my pocket. Angie and I tried to teach him card games on the upstairs terrace. We followed him and his staff around as they worked and served up amazing meals: Turkish hushpuppies, rice-filled zucchini, stewed beef and baklava.
At dinner one night, a grand affair in a room full of pillows and low tables, Sidar asked if we knew how many layers were in the baklava.
"Five!" "Eighteen!" came the shouts. I noticed my buddy Süleyman subtly trying to catch my eye. "Yüz katmanlar," (yewz COT-mahn-lahr, 100 layers) he whispered to me.
He rolled his eyes and smiled when I gave the wrong answer; so much for my Turkish language skills, he thought.
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