Wife Swap

DAY 8 – FINLAND'S POV

PART II

"Now, that everyone's here, I guess we can start, eh?"

He smiled kindly, surveying the now quiet group with determine gaze, deliberated to stop any possible rebel on time.

"Kuwait isn't here," Iraq grinded.

"Yes, I'll give her and the Emirates a brief as soon as they're back here. Anyway, like I said, today's the first day of the actual swap, for you at least. As for a start… does anyone know anything about my place?"

"It's cold!" Lebanon jumped.

"Yes, that's true, Lebanon. Thank you. Anyone else?"

"It's where you're from!" Kurd #2 jumped.

"Of course, that's where he's from, you idiot!" Kurd #1 snapped. "You should've said, it's called Finland."

"It's called Finland!" Kurd #2 repeated.

"No! I wanted to say that!"

"Anyone who wants to talk, please, raise your hand!" Finland sighed. He started feeling more and more like a kindergartener, but if that is what make them quiet, he wouldn't prevent that. "But, yes, you also right. Else..?"

Israel raised a hand.

"Yes?"

"It's lo –" she started, and was immediately cut by Lebanon, who jumped and said, "it's located by the Arctic Circle, and borders Russia, Sweden and Norway!"

"That's right, but you shouldn't interrupt to other's speech…"

"Someone was talking?" Lebanon asked with pretended innocent, smirking.

"You know that, Lebanon. Now, apologise to her."

"Apology to whom?"

"To Israel."

"I can't apology, to someone who doesn't exist."

"She's sitting right next to you."

"Syria is sitting right next to me."

Finland forced himself a small smile, trying hard to keep himself calm. "Lebanon… stop dissembling, and ask Israel for apology. We don't have the whole day."

"I told you, Finny, I can't give any apology, to something that ain't exist! That's schizophrenic!"

"Lebanon." Finland lowered his voice. The effect was immediate; the boy tensed, and moved himself closer to Syria. "Please. I ask you as a friend, to stop with these stupid games. I don't care, what problems you two have, I don't care what you think about her and I don't care, if you want to keep acting like a child. I do expect you to behave, and give your cousin an apology, for interrupting her speech. Was I clear enough?"

"Crystal clear," Lebanon gulped.

"It won't say itself, unless you'd say it, Lebanon."

"I-I can't."

"You can't?"

"No."

"No – you can? Or, no, you can't?"

"I can't."

Finland sighed. Those guys were too stubborn, he estimated; he would need a lot more than that, to get to change anything about them. "We'll talk about this later, Lebanon," he said, knowing exactly how it is going to affect this boy, and smiled again. "Okay. It looks, you don't really know much about my country, after all. Like Lebanon –" he shot a quick glance at the yelping boy, "– said, my house is by the Arctic Circle, and is a bridge between Russia to the Scandinavian Peninsula. Which is, naturally, why it is so cold there," he drew a glance at the Kurds, seeing if they got any of his words. They didn't, but he moved on. "However, my people and I defined different than the rest of Scandinavia. Can anyone tell me why?"

Israel raised a hand. Syria saw it, launched himself forwards with stretched arm, shoving her away. "'cause you're closer to Russia!"

Somehow, the idea of smashing his head against the wall was quite tempting. Finland resisted this urge just barely, and facepalmed instead. "No," his voice was more decisive than he meant, but he didn't care; he preferred them cautious of him, hoping, it will calm the off. "And please, don't compare me to Russia again," he demanded.

"Why not?" Syria raised an eyebrow in honest surprise. "He's a good guy."

"We've got some… issues," Finland sighed. "I'd like not get into this."

"Whatever," Syria shrugged.

Finland forced himself a smile and turned to Israel. "You wanted to speak?"

"What's the point?" she sighed bitterly, "no one's going to listen, anyway."

"I will," Armenia said.

"You aren't count!" Turkey interrupted with frustrated exclaim.

Armenia got up, turning his body to him angrily, "you won't keep me silent again, Turkey! I had enough of your crap for the rest of my life, you got to ruin!"

"Y-you filthy liar..!"

"You murderer!"

"Shut it, you son of a bitch!"

"Make me, asshole!"

"Yo, baba, I wouldn't let it pass in silent…" Cyprus jumped on his sit, looking at the two in excite.

"What kind of example you give to your son!" Armenia shouted out.

"Now you're getting waaay too low…"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Maybe, you should watch your tongue, then!"

"Look who's speaking!"

"If you have any problem with it, come face it like a man! I've had enough of your denials!"

"You're expecting me to recognise something I haven't done, how'd you expect me to come and say that I did it? Besides, no one else's here disagrees!" he turned his head around, "do you?"

Quite hums and louder voices of agreement came out from all over. Turkey grinned awide in approval, to which Armenia snorted and frowned. "Of course they do, they're biased. But, Israel, you agree with me, right?"

"About what?" the girl paled.

"What Turkey has done to me."

Israel started to shiver; she tried to speak up, but not a single voice was heard. She gulped, cleared her throat, gulped again and paled even more; tears started to pool in her eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, Armenia," she whispered after a while, looking at him with pained gaze. "You know, I can't[2]… please, forgive me..!" she started crying.

"D-don't cry, Israyel…" Armenia murmured and put a hand on her opposite shoulder, rubbing it gently.

"Y-you know I want to..!"

"Yes. But, don't cry. You're not the only one, Turkey keeps their mouth shut…"

"I don't keep anyone's mouth shut!"

"You keeps mine, for over 80 years!"

"Oh, really, I can see, how your mouth is shut now…"

"That's 'cause I stopped being mister nice guy!"

"You never were!"

"You know, he has some point, ya Turk. You're quite an ass sometimes," Syria said, leaning his head on Lebanon's shoulder.

"For which side you stand?" Turkey frowned. Syria shrugged and started nibbling Lebanon's neck, much to the younger discomfort. "That's not an answer!"

"Well, life can get you unanswered sometimes," Lebanon hummed, making a small moan.

"That's what the Azeris said –" Armenia twisted, "– when they rebelled our glorious Empire!" Yemen exclaimed and jumped to stand, "but e gave them some khat and everything settled down! I was the Tatar king's best man, you know…" Oman motioned him to sit back besides him, burying his face in his palms as Yemen begun to talk about the speaking goldfish, he had.

"Stop that! All of you, stop!" Finland screamed.

Everyone shut at once and settled themselves quickly, al pale. Surprised by his own action, Finland blinked, but recovered before they could get any chance to quarrel again.

"Listen up now," he said firmly, "I'm going to give you some house rules, you're to follow for the coming week. That's the point of this programme, so neither of you is exempt. So far, everything's clear?"

"Nothing's clear," Armenia commented bitterly. "The whole world is rotten…"

"And that's relevant for his speech, because?" Lebanon snorted.

"I was answering his question, in case you didn't listen."

"No, you just spoke completely out of context. That's pretty stupid, man."

"Just shut up, Armenia," Iran interrupted.

"I forgot, you're on his side," Armenia pulled out a cigarette, hanging it by the corner of his lips. He was just about to lit it, when Finland ripped it away. "First rule, no smoking inside the house! Smoking is unhealthy, anyway, so you better not make it worse!"

"What you're talking about?" Armenia frowned, visibly annoyed.

"No smoking inside the house. It was quite a clear one, actually." Finland frowned in return. "The house is all ashy, thanks to your cigarettes. It's even worse, if you didn't see it yourself through all this time, means that you're already used to it."

"And if we do, so?" Syria raised an eyebrow. "It's not like we're committing a crime."

"Yes, but think of the damage, you do for your health; you're making it worse by smoking indoors, for then the smoke never leaves."

"So what's the difference, if we'll smoke indoors or not? You said yourself, the smoke is already in," Armenia frowned.

"It's 'cause of you!" Turkey snapped and jumped to standing at once. "If you weren't insisting to smoke those goddamn cigarettes of you..!"

"Actually," Finland cleared his throat, "it's because of you all. You're damaging your health, and as long as I'm here, I won't accept that."

"Why you'd care about that from first place?" Syria frowned.

"Trust me, Syria, I care."

"I didn't ask if you do, I asked why."

The Finn frowned this time. "Oh, you want to know why? Maybe, because I spent a whole week with you, guys, and just like you enough to care about you?"

"You like us?" Syria asked slowly, carefully, as if he doesn't believe a word. Finland felt hurt, but it was over after several minutes: he had no reason to be offended, he rationalised, as those people are just cautious by their nature, and it has nothing personal.

"Yes, I do," he confirmed, smiling reassuringly. "Well, I know it's a short period of time, but I really do like you all, as much as I'm getting used to you."

"If you like us, you can marry my son!" Yemen called, nudging the irritated looking Oman.

"It's a guy, father. And he's already married…"

"Sure he feels the humidity, ya ibni!"

Oman groaned and buried his face in his palms.

"So we're allowed to smoke? Yes or no?" Jordan asked.

"No! Don't you ever pay attention, for what I say?" Finland was desperate.

"No for cigarettes, right?" Jordan tried.

"No for cigarettes, cigars, and that hookah thing."

"Goddamn you, Jordan, you asshole!" Syria snapped. "You had to ask?"

"At least one of you cares about the swap thing," Finland silent him with a glare.

"We all do, Finland, really," Turkey said carefully. "But, c'mon, no hookah? It's basic!"

"So you'll have to handle without it. You're mature enough to accept it at once," Finland sighed.

"But no smoking – only inside the house, you said…" Jordan started.

"No shit, Jordan! Shut up, you're feeding his brain with ideas..!" Syria yelled.

"I'm just repeating him, he allowed us to smoke outside," Jordan frowned.

"So why you ask, you idiot? He might regret!"

"I reminded him, so he won't come blame us later!"

"Angel!" Kurd #2 screamed; the two sprawled on ground in front him, Kurd #1 held his legs while Kurd #2 flailed desperately. "Angel, you can't prevent us cigarettes!"

"L-let go of me..!"

"Oh, angel, if I cold only get your holy light upon my bleeding heart…" Kurd #1 flickered, crushing the fabric of the Finn pants between his fingers.

"W-what?.."

Kurd #2 looked around, motioning Finland to bend with a nod. "Listen up, pretty face," he said, throwing a hand around Finland's nape, much to the latter discomfort. "You can't take our cigarettes away. Y'know what I mean? We have reputation to preserve, if you know what I mean. We're the cool guys, y'know what I'm saying?.."

Finland took the Kurd's hand and moved it away gently. "Yes, I know what you're saying. But I don't care; I followed your rules for a week, and now it's your turn…"

"Hush! Don't say it aloud!" Kurd #2 shrieked and returned his hand to the Finn. "Let's do it cool, pretty face. like, no one else but us can smoke, yes?"

"No, no, no! Stop that!" Finland frowned, removing the hand once more. "No one is smoking indoors, and that's it! And if you will keep arguing, no one smokes at all!"

"Including Turkey?" Kurd #1 looked up with wet face; it didn't take Finland too long to realise, he was licking his shoe. Finland distorted his face and tried to shake the Kurd away, but it was hopeless. He sighed. "Including Turkey."

The Kurds stared at each other.

Turkey launched himself forwards, clenching at the handrest. "You don't…"

Kurd #1 led out such laughter, Finland shuddered. "Oh, yes, Turkey, yeees!" he thrilled his voice in a ghost-like tone.

"You're insane…"

"Is that so, pity Turkey?" Kurd #2 interrupted.

"Don't test my patience, you rat…"

"We're getting you stressed, big boy?" Kurd #1 teased, finally letting go of the Finn.

"Okay, that's it…"

"Come take us, if you dare!"

"You're gonna regret…"

Turkey was halfway from getting up, when a phone rang. Everyone froze at once, nervously listening to the soft melody, of Chopin Nocturne Op 48 No.1.

"Hallo?" Iraq squeaked. He hummed something incoherent, emitting a guttural "yeah" every once and then. "No, I don't mind the delay, Mrs," he said courteously, looking unexpectedly calm. "You don't have to pay me back, Mrs. It's a minor mistake; the intention itself is enough. Yeah…" Everyone exchanged pale faces. "You're sure, Mrs? It's too much of you, but I'd love that. Blue daisies, yeah." Iran lifted an eyebrow. "You sound like a fair woman, I daresay, Mrs. I'm counting on your good taste. Yeah, thank you very much, Mrs. Have a good day you, too."

Finland gulped and took a deep breathe. Such softness seemed so far than Iraq, this whole situation felt surreal; anyone else seemed so astonished, he was afraid to ruin the moment.

Iraq frowned, reducing angrily between splint lips.

"W-well then," Finland cleared his throat. "So we set the first rule, of not smoking indoors. Which leads us to the second rule – you're not getting into someone else's house, unless you're invited."

"I don't get it," Syria said.

"I noticed, you entre each other's houses like they were your own. Second rule is to stop that; I understand, you enjoy those visits, but there's another way to do so." He paused and locked his eyes on Lebanon, smiling. "Come over, please. I need your help demonstrating."

Lebanon hesitated but got up. Finland smiled down at him, "I want you to get out, and when I'll give you a sign, get back the way you usually do, when you come visit someone."

Lebanon nodded and got up. Finland led a few seconds pass, and said, "you can get in."

Lebanon didn't wait until Finland finished the sentence and got inside as casually, as if it was his own home, and settled himself back on couch.

"This is really how you'd get to someones place?" Finland asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Get up again, please…" so he did, "we'll try something else now. When I give you a sign, get inside, but knock the door first."

Lebanon nodded and went out. "Go ahead." Lebanon knocked the door on same time he opened it, and headed straight to couch again. Finland stopped him just before he sat down. "We'll try again, but this time, knock the door and wait until someone calls you."

Lebanon went out. Finland didn't call him this time, but only stared at the front door, waiting; Lebanon got inside again in less than a minute. "I knocked!" he justified himself to Finland's profound stare. "No one responded, I thought something happened..!"

"Get back to sit," Finland sighed heavily. Surely is, those people were stubborn, and knew how to get what they wanted. There was nothing Finland could do about that, but make a personal care to prevent it, whenever that happens.

"You'd have to call someone you want to invite, too," Finland continued, somewhat expecting the shocked stares he received. "Back in my house, everyone calls, to confirm that the person they want to come to, is available for a visit."

"What'dya mean?" Iraq groaned, his frown darkens his face.

Finland didn't lose his guard. "Maybe, the person you want to visit isn't at home, or is sick, or just want some time alone…"

"Then we'd go give them some company!" Syria said.

"That's exactly the point. Sometimes, people want to be alone," Finland sighed.

"Why'd they do it? It's boring," Syria snorted.

"I-it's not boring…" Finland blinked, and sighed. "Never mind. Still, you have to call first, and make sure the one you want to visit, wants you to come."

"I wouldn't mind anyone to come, if they want," Lebanon said, shrugging, "accept for the Zionist."

"They'd still have to call you first."

"Why can't I just give my permission now, so they wouldn't bother to?" Lebanon frowned.

"Because that's the rule."

"I don't like your rules," Lebanon hissed and snuggled further onto Syria's lap, the latter wrapping his arms around him instantly.

Finland led go of a deep, exhausted sigh.

"Third rule," he said, sounding frustrated despite his intents. "Israel, you have to stop with the security chekups, when someone tries getting to your house."

"W-what?" Israel paled, staring at him in betrayal. "Y-you're not serious, Finland! I can't… I can't do that! If I'll do so, they'll hurt me!"

"They can harm you on street just the same," Finland stated, crossing his arms firmly. A quick glance at Israel, was enough to notice she has got into one of her panic attacks at once: she lost the remains of colour she still got on her face and started to shiver; her eyes got enormously wide, and she scanned her surrounding like a mad, humming to herself.

"Perkele..!" Finland snapped, grabbing his head. Of course, he just had to say that! "Perkele!" He's so stupid! Like coping a whole family of nuts wasn't enough, now, he also has to handle this…

"I can knock her off, if you want," Palestine smirked.

"I-I'd rather you not, really…"

Armenia sighed, looking very tired all sudden. "I'll handle that," he said.

"Yes! Please!" Turkey jumped on his sit, "go away!"

"No." Armenia rolled his eyes and gently nudged Israel into his embrace. "They'd never understand us, Ella. Scha, scha…" he stroked her hair, leaning her head on the crook of his shoulder, "everyone have their breaking points. Ignore them, Turkey feeds their brains with crap…"

"Watch your words, bastard! You're in my house!" Turkey hissed.

"Don't you speak to an old man like that, asshole!" Armenia spitted.

"An old man shouldn't speak like that, either!"

"S-shut up!" Finland screamed, tossing his head desperately. "You're getting way down, I cannot accept that!" He took a deep breathe, trying ever so hard to regain his compose. "Now," a fake smile creaked to his lips, "I'm going to move on, and you're going to forget about that silly fight of you. Was I clear?"

Turkey sighed and nodded, smiling in return. "Yes."

"I guess so," Armenia closed his eyes.

"Good," Finland spoke slowly, aware for the didactic tone he used. He paused to get back to his usual self and turned to Armenia, "when she calms, can you tell her, I won't enforce rule 3?"

"Yeah."

"Good," Finland nodded, satisfied. "So, rule number three. I know, it's just how things are like in your place, but sometimes, you're too friendly…"

Syria pouted. "What you're trying to say?" he snapped, "that you don't like the way we treat you?"

"N-no! not at all," Finland said, "I really appreciate that. But, in my place, we don't quite show so much of emotions, like you do. I… I don't say, it's wrong, but we just prefer to keep things to ourselves. You… understand, what I mean?" losing his confidence, Finland looked around with worried face.

"Oh?" Yemen exclaimed.

"We… we prefer to stay quiet. Not say much, that is…"

"Oh?" Yemen exclaimed again.

"Then you way, we're preventing basic rights!" Iran interrupted, fuming, "keeping your own people shut, by the guise of introvertedness..!"

"Wow, Iran. Chill," Morocco lifted an eyebrow, looking irritated. She was silent for most of the time – something Finland couldn't miss, and appreciated – and even now sneakered at her visible urge to release her anger. "That's just a personal character, alright?"

"It's a conspiracy…" Iran muttered and crossed his arms, sinking backwards into the cushions.

Finland gave her a meaningful glance, receiving a soft smile in return, smiled back and turned to speak. "I-I'm not going to demand you staying calm, I… I know, it's not you, and I don't want to change you on personal level, okay..?" Turkey caught his wandering gaze and smiled, encouraging him to move further on. "I… it's just some new manners, alright? I don't want you to stop being friendly, just… more official..?"

"What he's trying to say," Turkey continued him, turning to face the rest, "he wants us to stay just like that, but just give more personal space to each other. Is that what you meant for, Finland?" he looked at him.

"Y-yes. That's it," the latter smiled thankfully, letting out a relieved sigh.

"What does it mean?" Iran insisted, wiggling his eyebrows uprights.

"Means that on meeting, for example, you'll shake each other's hand, instead of kissing and hugging," Finland said.

"But if that's someone we love?" Syria got into his speech.

"Well, you can greet them however you want, but, since you all seem to love each other –" he preferred to ignore the violent coughs Palestine emitted, "– I'd ask you greet everyone more politely, even if you love them, for this week only."

Syria exchanged looks with Turkey and eventually sighed. "Alright. I think, we can do it."

"G-great!" Finland smiled. He took a deep breathe. "Forth rule's going to be quite harsh to everyone, but… you have to decrease the amounts of coffee and sweets, you costume."

The pitch silence undermined Finland, who gulped and felt how a frozen wave slopped through his spine, when all eyes turned to him in shock. Then, Syria snickered; he was followed by a great smile from Lebanon's direction, and a chuckle from Iran. "That's a bad joke alright…" Syria said.

"I'm serious," Finland responded quietly, trying to keep his voice as stern as possible.

"No way, dude."

"Rules are rules."

All colour of Syria's face disappeared at once. "Y-you gave up the kike..!"

"For obvious reasons."

"Y-you can't do it!" even his voice was panicked now.

"Just did."

"No!" Cyprus screamed; he held at the armrest firmly, smiling like a mad. "N-no way, you're going to prevent us sweets! Ha… haha…" the boy laughed unstably, making Finland wonder if it's a true reaction, or just a tasteless attempt to dissuade him from his decision.

"Actually, Cyprus, you're the main reason for this rule," Finland said carefully, too terrified to look at everyone else but the now shaking boy, although this very reaction was intermediating all the same; the boy switched and emitted such miserable voice, Finland had no doubt now, he was just addicted. "You costume way too much sugar and caffeine, someone in your age should. I-it ruins your systems…" he continued.

"I-it ain't!" Cyprus screamed, "I-I'm just as normal as they come! You're speaking absolutely nonsense, ha! Haha…"

"I'm not completely preventing you from sweets, Cyprus, just make it only once a day from now…"

"You can't do this to me!" Cyprus screamed and threw himself forwards, grasping at one of Finland's legs. "You can't do this to me!"

"P-please, Cyprus…" Finland paled.

"Have you no heart, Finland?" Iran snapped, putting a hand on Cyprus shoulder and carefully getting him back to his sit. "You made the boy cry."

"H-he's not crying…"

"Well, you got my point," Iran frowned.

Armenia tsked. "And you think, you're making a good educative example?"

Iran narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly," Armenia sighed and groped his pocket for a cigarette; he has got to put it in his mouth, just before Finland perceived it and shot him a glare. "It's starting now?" Armenia asked, sounding more like a five years old, trying to convince his father to give up on a punishment. Finland nodded and stretched out his arm. Armenia sighed again, making it as wretched as he can, and put the cigarette in his palm. "Just to let you know," he said bitterly, "I really don't like it."

"I know, but that's it," Finland shrugged and tucked the cigarette in his pocket, intending to get rid of it later.

"It's pretty depressing, too."

Finland smiled awkwardly; Armenia frowned and huffed, lying backwards; Finland couldn't miss the suckling spasms he made.

"So coffee and sweets – just once a day, after lunch."

"Why not after dinner?" Jordan asked.

"You wouldn't sleep well, if you do. The sugar and caffeine will get you unease…" Finland started, swallowing his words at once; his eyes went wide, and an understanding gaze broke to his face. "Oh. Of course."

"What?" Syria frowned.

"The sugar!" Finland exclaimed. "The sugar! Of course..!"

"What?.."

"You costume so much sugar, no wonder, you're so restless all the time! Of course!" he smiled. "Don't you see, you damage yourself?"

"Nope?"

"Well, you do!"

"Hey." Kurd #1 straightened up from his place on floor; he just laid there, his limbs sprawled all over. "You know," he said, "I really can't sleep after I drink coffee."

"Really?" his friend interrupted, lifting an eyebrow. "Strange… in my case, it's the complete opposite – I can't drink coffee, after I sleep."

"How strange…" the two were looking at each other in amazement.

"Okay, okay, everyone," Finland said, "last rule – from this moment and until the swap ends, I'll do the cooking."

Morocco flinched. "You alone?"

"Yes."

She took a deep breathe.

"That's all for now," Finland said, smiling lightly. "I-I think, we will call it a day, eh?"

Turkey sighed. "Yeah."

"Alright then!" he clapped his hands, widening his smile, "everyone, time to get back home!"

"You eject us?" Palestine exclaimed and jumped. "I should've known!"

"N-no!" Finland hurried to say, waving his hands, "y-you get it all wrong! Remember rule 3?"

"What? That the Jew should give me my rightful house?" Palestine smiled.

"No. the one, about giving more personal space to each other," he said. Palestine lifted an eyebrow, and he sighed. "You have your own houses, right?"

"I don't. The bitch took over mine," Palestine sighed dramatically, receiving a sympathising glances from Syria, Lebanon and Iran.

"It's my rightful place, Palestine!" Israel frowned, looking hurt. "And, besides, you're still living there!"

"In a garage!" Palestine screamed. "Garage!" she turned her face to the awkward Finland.

"Y-you decided to move there!"

"You locked me in, bitch!"

"No, you were just stupid enough, to forget the key!"

"So give it to me!"

"No!"

"Out!" Finland looked pretty shocked, seeing Turkey standing up and waving his hands. "Rule 3, now, good night! Out!"

Not a single one of them relinquished the chance to shot Turkey an angry glare, some hissing quietly; Turkey let it pass and shooed them outside, shutting the door close as soon as Oman got to drag Yemen out.

"Thanks," Finland said quietly, offering Turkey a fatigue smile.

The latter smiled, petting Finland's shoulder, "it's nothing. Get back to sleep now, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good night, Finland."

"Good night, Turkey, Cyprus."

Cyprus pouted; he rolled his eyes when Turkey shot him a glare, deepening his frown. "Good night, party crasher," he mused.

-Fin-

[2] Although many Israelis are tending to regard Armenians as very dear and closed to them, for their mutuality of tragic past, the state of Israel refuses to officially recognise the Armenian Holocaust, knowing that it would taint to completely destroy all diplomatic relations with Turkey; even nowadays, when Israel and Turkey are in their worse ebb, Israeli seniors keep this issue concealed.