Three times was an accident. Four times is a lifestyle choice.
The love is still misaligned, your heating bill looks like a ransom note, and your bank app opens with emotional damage. Outside it’s Baltic cold and existential silence - inside, your cousin is doing halay in a thermal base layer, your aunt is negotiating firewood like it’s the stock market, and your uncle insists the flames “used to burn hotter in his time.
This is not a party anymore - it’s a long-running cultural experiment with rakı in its bloodstream. The halay has evolved. The costumes are louder. The emotional damage is now carbon-neutral.
Expect:
– choreography you didn’t consent to
– eye contact that lasts too long
– one dramatic exit that nobody respects
Bring layers. Bring faith. Bring someone to guard your coat like a newborn.
