Lively and lovely plum

AYLİN ÖNEY TAN - aylin.tan@hdn.com.tr

It is an obsession. Anyone born and raised in Turkey is crazy about green unripe plums. Their appearance every year is awaited like the first snow, and when they finally show themselves at greengrocers at a hefty price, it makes the news, even the headlines in some cases. It is the ultimate manifestation of spring. 

In a strange way, the unripe green plums mark the fragile boundary between spring and summer. Just after the arrival of green almonds in early spring, the first premature plums appear. They are usually miniscule, pale in color and not very appealing. However it does not stop fans from biting into one, often ending with the bitter experience of crushing the still fragile unripe stone. This means that spring is not yet there. When fully round, big green plums with hardened stones take the stage, it is proper spring. Alas, spring is short and ephemeral. Soon plums will start to bear a shy blush or feel slightly soft to the touch, turning into a mellow yellow in color. This is when summer has taken over. Here in Turkey, we watch over the winter-spring-summer calendar through the looking glass of a plum. 

Our praised obsession is called “Can erik” in Turkish, and it is hard to translate the name to English. “Can” means life, soul or spirit, or all of them in a package, while erik is the generic name for plums. The name “Can erik” provokes liveliness, just as the feeling it evokes when you eat one, bursting with the freshness of life.  

Unfortunately, there is no matching name for that, in English; it is usually translated as green gages, green plums or unripe plums. All are correct and wrong in a funny way. Even in Turkey there is confusion on varieties; a certain variety which is even bigger, greener, and juicier is named Papaz Eriği. God knows why, but it means priest’s plum. It is often confused with “can erik” and arguments on which is which is a usual puzzle. As far as I know, the saintly one is more succulent and less sour, thus really favored by fans. This special variety made it to the headlines recently, this time not as a telltale of spring, but for more awkward reasons. Some overly agitated religious fanatics have renamed the poor plum the “Imam’s Plum,” giving it an Islamic twist, eager not to give their beloved nibble to the hands of infidels. Insanely funny as it may seem, it can be regarded as a clever attempt by a foxy green grocer to increase sales, but also a sign of a change towards the climate of intolerance and the radical religious fog that inhibits sight. Let’s hope the greengage remains only the fruit of the lively, joyous spring, full of life, as its name suggests!