Visiting Samil during the last school week in June allows not only a glimpse of his lstanbul home, street and school but a boat ride and drive to his grandparents' farm as well. Unfortunately Goldman's photographs and minimal text leave us with no strong impression and very little information about either setting. We do get to see some mosques and minarets, a samovar, a picture of Ataturk, and men at a prayer service (though Samil's father in a prayer position at home, while the little boy peers clown from a chair, is likely to appear to outsiders as simply silly). Perhaps of more immediate appeal is the view of a Sunday country breakfast of ""goat cheese, black olives, strong tea and Grandmother's crusty, warm bread."" The rest is mostly a reminder that Turkish children too dislike homework, play tag and tug-of-war, and have grandparents who remark on how they've grown. And when the book ends with the observation that ""Now he has a whole long summer ahead, and there are so many new and wonderful things to do,"" we get the feeling that even the author has lost interest in Samil's world.