Chapter I: The Liturgy of Tin Baths

Sea Glass in the Womb, a memoir

Photo courtesy of Gülşah.

To Dilara—with undying love. You are the ladder carved from moonlight, leading me out of the dark.

We bathed in tubs set out on the cracked streets of Dolapdere. The tubs held hot water heated by an army of kettles whistling away like steam trains. A fresh bucket of water was dangling over a barrel fire. It was there for when the…