New Zealand Travel 47-Day 11-5 — Family, Memories, and Time: Kebab and the Turkey Trip

Earlier today, while enjoying multinational takeout in New Zealand, I suddenly remembered kebabs. I vividly recall traveling with my family to Istanbul, Turkey, long ago. It was a trip arranged after seeing a discounted tour advertisement in a newspaper or something similar. My husband, my son, my daughter, and I—four of us—went together. The children were likely in their mid-teens, though my daughter might have been a bit younger. Departure was during New Year’s, a rare opportunity when the whole family could be together. I do not remember clearly which sightseeing spots we visited or what we saw, but I vividly remember spending that time together harmoniously. Our family often quarreled, so this peaceful experience stood out.

One memory I cannot forget is my son eating kebabs at a street stall. He kept buying and eating one-dollar kebabs over and over. Watching his energy and delight was enough to make me feel full just from seeing him. My daughter, my husband, and I could not eat nearly as much, but the image of my son enjoying kebabs for the first time remains vivid.

We also took an optional trip to Cappadocia. In the English supplementary textbooks I taught in high school, there was a sentence that read, “Let’s visit Cappadocia. It’s fun to ride a balloon.” I taught this textbook for two consecutive years, so I had long wanted to ride a balloon there myself. The balloon ride was an optional activity with a separate fee, but unfortunately, it did not take place due to the weather. The children were very disappointed as well—they had likely wanted to ride the balloon too. Nevertheless, the scenery of Cappadocia and the time spent together as a family remain warmly in my memory.

Later, my husband says our last family trip as four was to Hong Kong, though I hardly remember anything about it. Looking back on these memories, I realize that family is a fascinating thing, changing shape with time and circumstances. I grew up in a family of four, with my parents and my younger sister, but when my sister and I married and started our own households, the shape of “family” changed. Our children, too, have become independent and created their own families.

Family may be something formed in the time when we live together, eat together, and laugh and cry together. The definition of “family” varies from person to person. Even so, every family has its own shape, and that is perfectly fine. For me, the memories of the Turkey trip, the kebabs, the scenery of Cappadocia, and the balloon ride are precious moments that recall that time-limited sense of “family.”

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