Welcome to "I was in Turkey"

“Suzanne, come!” My boss barked at me, holding out her arm and shaking her wrist  downward, like she was nodding her hand.  My brain froze, unable to decipher the seemingly contradictory commands.   She grabbed my hand and pulled me into a classroom to hide me me from students she had told I was ill in order to free up my afternoon.  She placed her arms against the the door before raising a finger to her...

When coming to Turkey for the first time, it was quick to notice many of the men walking with a string of beads in their hands.  Some were long, while others were very short, but always noticeable.  Some beads are simple, plain white or black, while others hold a more lavish gleaming stone version from the more expensive markets.  Many wonder what it is exactly they are holding.  Is it religious?  Or just something to...