Memories

I know in my last post, I wrote about the “10” things that I will miss about Turkey, but there are so many more than 10 things. And the things I will miss are not immediately list-able. In the last 9 months, Turkey has begun to feel like home to me, as evidenced by the anxious-uncomfortable-homesick feeling I get in my stomach when I think about leaving. I know that Turkey will always have a special place in my heart, and I hope it’s God’s plan for me to come back some day.



As I write this, I am sitting on the balcony of Ben and Verna’s home, which has become my home, watching the sun set over the mountains and the water. This view is unbeatable. I will miss this balcony incredibly. I love to eat breakfast out here each morning, looking at the water that varies from glass, ripples, and full-on choppy morning to morning. I will miss watching the people in the park below – picnicking families, joggers, walkers, couples, and the inevitable group of Converse-wearing teenagers kicking around a soccer ball, or more often, using it as a volleyball. I will miss the tour boats that go put-putting along the coast, blasting pop or techno with tourists sunbathing on the decks. I will miss watching the lighthouse come on at night, protecting those tour boats from the steep cliffs. I will miss the afternoon breezes that come off the water and turn our house into a wind tunnel when the right combination of doors and windows are open. I might even miss those stupid morning doves that are constantly trying to build a nest in the awnings over the table.

Beyond the balcony, I will miss Ben and Verna. Verna has been such a constant support here, offering up her home, frequently offering up Ben as a chauffeur, including me in holiday celebrations, and generally loving me like a daughter. This experience would have been very different and much less rich without them. We just had a barbeque at Phil and Linda’s house, in honor of Ashley and I, who happen to be leaving within a day of each other. Phil and Linda have been solid rocks in this adventure. Linda was the one who rescued Alli and I on our first full day in Turkey when Verna was dealing with car trouble. I will miss them incredibly. And Ashley. What would I have done without Ashley? When I first contemplated coming to Turkey, I thought it was going to be a chance for me to learn how to be alone, without a close group of friends nearby. Turns out God had a different plan in mind. Ashley was my constant companion for just about everything. People had us linked together from the start, which was comical at times. I learned so much from her, and thankfully she only lives in Oregon. I know that is a friendship that will last.

I will miss going to the market most Saturdays, or knowing that I can find a market somewhere in town on just about every day of the week. The produce here is amazing, and such a good deal. I love having fresh strawberries, bananas, avocados, and oranges as constant fixings in the kitchen. I will miss terribly the bakery down that street where I buy fresh kasarli simit: a warm, flaky, cheese-filled, sesame seed-covered delight. And though it’s neither freshly baked nor freshly grown, I will miss Schweppes’s Bitter Lemon soda. There’s nothing like it.

I will miss the close community at Paul’s place. I think the fact that we are mostly ex-pats, all brought to Turkey with some unique purpose, forces us to rely on each other deeply. Most likely, someone in the group will know where to get marshmallows, or whether or not brads exist in Turkey, or the best places to go for a visa run. I will miss dropping in for a cay mid-week, and the late start of the service on Sundays. I will miss that fact that Antalya actually is a very small town, and that there are more personal connections between my friends than I would think.

I will miss all my friends at the centers that I volunteered at. I will miss the four or five cups of tea drunk throughout the morning, and the friendly banter that goes on as teachers eat their breakfast before classes start. I will definitely miss the closeness that teachers here have with their students. Teachers here bond with their students over playful hugs, tickles, cheek-pinches, and other physical signs of affection that have been made illegal in schools in the states.

I will miss the warm weather (although I’m glad to be missing the hottest, most miserable months here) and the hamams. Where else will I get to feel like I am floating in a soft cloud? I will miss all the awesome 80’s and early 90’s American pop songs playing in stores and restaurants. I will miss being able to spend the casual afternoon surrounded by ancient ruins of stadiums and mosques and churches where Biblical history actually took place.

And these are only some of the things that I can identify right now. I know there is so much that I will think about and miss terribly once I get home. I know that for years, small things will remind me about something here, and I will have to comment aloud. Those of you who know me will understand that I am not name-dropping, but merely processing this life-changing adventure. I know that I will have some hard goodbyes to say in the next couple of days, but I also hope that it’s not forever. Seven years ago when I was in Turkey I though, “Hey, you’re only in Turkey once, right?!” and look where I ended up. It could happen again!