Prayer beads

Over the weeks of having lived in my new apartment in Besiktas, I have befriended the man who works at the cafe across the road, who is usually stationed outside the door of the cafe calling out to people on the street. He is a young guy and, as it transpires, strongly Muslim. He has grown tired of living in Istanbul and has felt drawn back to his home town and his family, to which he has now returned.

Anyway, a couple of nights before his departure, I stopped and talked to him on my way back from work, as has become habit. In his hand, as is not uncommon here, he was loosely holding the most beautiful set of prayer beads. It was fashioned from delicate pearls intermittent with silver beading and embellished with engravings of miniscule birds. When I expressed my admiration for the lovely thing he explained to me that was particularly precious to him as it had been a gift from his closest friend. Anyway, I went on my way and thought nothing more of it.

On the day of his leaving, I saw my friend for the last time standing in his usual spot on the threshold of the cafe, hailing passers-by. After a couple of minutes of conversation, he asked me to hold my hand out. He dug around in his coat pocket and eventually withdrew the prayer beads, which he then pressed ceremoniously into my palm. I was delighted with the gift, and after the customary one or two protestations, accepted it.

Needless to say I was extremely touched by this gesture. However, I later recalled something that I read a while back, which explained that you should never admire too fervently something belonging to a Muslim, because he will then feel obliged to give it to you as a gesture of hospitality or generosity.

I think that now forevermore every time I look at the lovely prayer beads, I will imagine the reaction of my friend's friend from whom they were a gift as he tells him that he passed them on to an English girl he met in Istanbul...