I have been called a pisken bas (cooked head) two times in two days. It makes one wonder . . . When they slaughter an animal here, they boil the head. The fur comes off, and the lips pull back from the teeth so that it has a macabre smile.
The second time I heard it was today, when Bolat took a photo of the women from my church, but could only fit me from the neck up, smiling broadly at the way he said, “say cheese.” He said “Sorry, Susan, but you’ll look like a cooked head.”