The winter months in Turkey have treated me well. Between the excellent food, frequent beers and a largely sedentary desk job, I’ve found myself carrying a few extra pounds and noticing the appearance of a spare tyre and an extra chin or two.
I don’t need anyone to point out my weight gain — I already know. At the back of my wardrobe are six pairs of trousers I can no longer pull over my hips.
English ex-pats have been tactful. Out of respect for a culture that considers it rude to comment on someone’s weight, they often avoid the topic and offer polite compliments instead, telling me I look great even when it’s obvious I don’t fit into the clothes I once did.
In Turkey, however, weight is not treated as a sensitive secret. Remarks about gaining weight are often made as casually as a comment about the weather. Don’t be surprised if you visit a favourite eatery and the waiter, flashing a toothless grin, suggests you might try a diet cola instead.
Turkish People Tell You if You are Fat
My weight has been a constant yo-yo since I moved here. I vividly remember the first time a Turkish acquaintance bluntly mentioned my weight gain: I ran home, collapsed on the sofa and cried. I convinced myself they were making fun of me and vowed not to speak to them again. The very next day they behaved as if nothing had happened.
That moment showed me a clear cultural difference between Turks and Brits regarding what’s acceptable to say. In Turkish, the common phrase literally means “you have taken kilos,” which to an English ear can sound like being told “you are now fat.” Conversations about weight happen openly, and at times you feel exposed, as if you should wave your arms to prove you’re still yourself.
I was told that Turks feel free to speak about weight because it’s ultimately irrelevant to how people are judged. What matters is character, kindness and personality. Physical appearance, including a few extra kilos, isn’t considered central to daily relationships or social worth.
I can appreciate that perspective. Still, I was raised in a culture where calling someone fat can spark serious offence. In England, people tend to be more diplomatic about such matters, preferring not to mention extra chins, spare tyres or wider hips directly. It may be said behind someone’s back, but at least it spares the person the immediate embarrassment of being the subject of conversation.
This morning I joined a breakfast table full of Turkish friends I hadn’t seen for a while. After exchanging greetings—“hello” and “how are you?”—came the blunt observation that made me wince.
As they tucked into bread and olives, someone announced to the whole table that they could see I had gained kilos, and the group laughed. I merely shrugged and said nothing. Moments like that remind me that, while I’ve grown to love many aspects of Turkish life, the frankness about weight is one tradition I may never fully get used to.