Random Scrap:
There was another bedroom in the apartment and this one was occupied by Amy's daughter Zola. She was exclusively using the other second bathroom adjacent to her room while Amy and I continued sharing the one near my room. Amy would sleep either on the couch in the living room or in a makeshift bedroom in a closet underneath the building stairs. Zola at first was quite distant and kept referring to me as a student but eventually she warmed up a bit and called me 'Jack'. They did not seem to be close together. Amy was still very much Turkish, she watched her Turkish comedies brought by the satelite dish installed outside of the apartment while Zola worked in a local hospital and was all American. The father, now dead, was an American solider being stationed in Turkey and that was how he met Amy and eventually brought her to America. We had never talked much about him. On the first night after I moved in I showed Amy pictures of my father and seeing that he had a big of a belly, her eyes widened up, she smiled and unanomisaly declared that he must be a rich man.