May 20, 2015
I’m in this weird place right now of trying to
think through all of the things I am going to miss when I’m gone so that I can
soak them up extra right now, but I’m realizing it doesn’t really work that
way. I wish it did. I’ve certainly been trying – staring at the Bosphorus
longer on my walks past it, eating more Turkish foods and desserts, sitting in
parks and cafes longer, keeping my windows open and headphones out. And while
you can certainly savor things more while you’re here, you can’t quite miss
them until they’re gone, I don’t think. You just have to be right where you’re
at for as long as you can, I think.
I’ve got
exactly two weeks before I get on a plane to leave this city to head back home.
I know I’ve said this a million times over, but truly, I cannot believe that.
And that’s probably for the best that I can’t really fully grasp the reality of
those 14 days. There is so much I’m going to miss about Istanbul. And I’m sure
some of you are thinking “She’s still got two whole weeks left... why is she
even thinking about leaving??” But the truth of it is I am a sloooooow
processor. For real, guys. So it’s really a good thing for me to start that
whole process now.
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My view on my walk to class. I think I'll miss the water most. |
May 25, 2015
For my 18th birthday, I received a copy of
Sabrina Ward Harrison’s book, "Brave on the Rocks." I read it, and loved it just
as much as "Spilling Open," and then it went into my book collection for a time.
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Trying so desperately to skype in Jess' graduation at 3am my time. |
Before I decided to move forward with studying abroad, I
made a pros and cons list of why I should or shouldn’t go to Istanbul. The cons
side of things was full of names and faces of people I’d miss so dearly,
graduations, birthdays, and life events I would miss, babies growing up, and
opportunities I would miss out on. The pros side was weaker in comparison, but
held Sabrina’s words that would come to be my mantra as I moved forward in my
trip. They were simple, but very clear. “If you don’t go, you don’t see.” Here
I am, a little over two years from first reading those words, and I’m just
struck with the gratitude that I had the opportunity to go and see.
Tonight I sat and read through "Brave on the Rocks" again and
just smiled at how familiar Sabrina's stories of traveling to Italy are. So much of
what she describes about her travels match up with my own traveling
experiences. She writes of the stress and anxiety and dullness that made going
to Italy necessary. She says “sometimes the sickness itself is the wakeup call
to have the adventure.” And that’s just it. My fall semester was a hectic one.
I was overworked, overscheduled, and overwhelmed. I wasn’t sleeping right or
eating right, I was almost constantly stressed and anxious, and just really
losing it on the whole. And more and more, I felt drawn to Istanbul. Don’t get
me wrong – I am not advocating for running away from problems, and I’m not
saying that is what this trip was to me at all. What I am saying, though, is
that most times to heal and to start fresh, you have to be uncomfortable for a
minute, and usually things have to change. For me, that change came in the
really fantastic and scary and difficult and wonderful form of a brand new city,
in a brand new part of the world. And it has been so, so good for me.
My sweet Australian friend, Josephine, and I were saying our
goodbyes earlier this week and I asked her what she had learned from being in
Istanbul and what she would take back and how she would be different and she
said some wonderful and wise things about being more bold and about loving
people as much as you let yourself love them and it was all very poetic and
nice. She then flipped my questions around on me and I stared back at her and
told her that I feel like I should have an answer to that, but that I just
didn’t. And without missing a beat, she just said, “Well, for the most part, I
think you won’t know what you learned until you’re back and you see how you’ve
changed.” And I do think that is very true. I can already see some of the
lessons and change in myself, though, just by looking at my journal from the
very first week in Istanbul. I look at the person who wrote that and she was
pretty apprehensive of and very intimidated by this new city and all of the
change. She tried to push down and ignore the uncomfortable moments and
homesick feelings until they were too big to ignore. That person was fearful
and clung tightly to her backpack, sure of pickpockets everywhere and all
Turkish sounded angry and unfriendly to her ears. That person was sure they
hated her and so sure that there was a sign above her head that proclaimed, “I
do not belong here!”
It was in that journal entry from the first week that I
wrote, “We almost got lost on the way home. But we made it. We’re ok and we’re
here and we made it. We’re going to be ok. Nineteen more weeks.” That person
had no idea how fast those nineteen weeks would go.
At that point, I had
no idea how much could change in nineteen weeks, either. Somewhere along those
one hundred and thirty-three days, I became a bit more bold. “Sometimes the bravest things are the most
simple in the end.” I learned how true that is. I learned the streets in my
small radius, and I learned how to do the dance required to navigate the people
and cars within those streets. I am learning what it means to be present in
life. I wasn’t showing up for a decent portion of my life – not fully, anyways.
In Lisbon, I watched my older sister, Erin wander the streets and truly take it
in. I watched her sip her wine slowly and linger longer. In Turkey, I watched
the people walk slower through the streets (sometimes so slowly that people
read books as they shuffled along to wherever they were going – that is no joke
or exaggeration). I watched them wait for their tea to cool at the end of most
every meal and drink it slowly. And I’m in the process of learning to be more
present like that and linger just a little longer. One of the cool by-products
of travelling is that it really encourages and coerces you to see, taste,
touch, hear, and smell more. Because suddenly, the sights and tastes and textures
and sounds and aromas are not what you’re used to, so you get into the habit of
paying more attention to them. Nineteen weeks ago me didn’t know that.
My view of the world changed, too (probably in so many ways
that I haven’t even realized yet). Mostly, I’ve just realized how small it
really is. Before I left, I had so many different connections who had friends
or family in Istanbul, and it was just so surprising to me. I also met a guy
who goes to Bogazici and studied abroad last semester at K-State – crazy! There
is also a guy studying abroad here that I met who is not only from Kansas, but
lives about five minutes away from where I live. It’s just wild to me the
different connections I’ve been able to make in just five short months.
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Me, obviously being brave on the rocks in Turkey |
Finally, I think I’ve become a little braver over the past
nineteen weeks. Studying abroad was always this “maybe, someday, if all the
stars align” kind of dream to me. When it became a reality and I was checking
and double-checking my packing list the night before I left, that was really
terrifying. But here I am. With a little over a week left of my time here, with
a (very) little Turkish vocabulary, and with shoes that are worn from all of
the hills. I did it! Certainly not alone – it took an army to get me here and a
whole lot of last-minute things working out in my favor. But I did it. And I’m
so much better for it.
I’m so ready to be back where I’m most comfortable, with all
the people I love and have missed so dearly, eating the foods I love, and
speaking my own language. But it sure is going to be hard to leave this city.
Istanbul is where I learned to heal, and to rest, where I learned the practices
of being patient, being grateful, and being present. It’s where I met people
from around the world and compared and contrasted cultures. It’s where I missed
my people and my home and really fell in love with it. Istanbul is where I
learned about being an adventurer wherever you’re at, but never forgetting
where home is. Istanbul has been so good to me for this season of life and I’ll
forever be grateful for the home we made here.
But I am ready to come home. And that feels like the
greatest gift of all.
P.S. - in case you didn't hear, I had a killer birthday at the Prince Islands (thanks, Kevin!)
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Remember that birthday I got to ride in a horse-drawn carriage like a freaking princess?! |
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We could see the other islands from this gorgeous view by the monastery. So worth all the hills. |
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After our hike, we found the most perfect spot to stop and eat some watermelon. So we did. |