The first time I walked through my local Barnes & Noble bookstore, I must admit I got a little carried away. I couldn’t help myself…there were cheap English books everywhere! Cookbooks, Turkish language books, religious books, magazines, fiction, I felt like I was in heaven!

 I happened to wander by the travel writers section and the first title I saw was Tales from the Expat Harem. “Hmmm,” I thought, “Harem=Sultan … Sultan=Turkey, right? What’s this book about?” I picked up the book, and the whole title of the book is Tales from the Expat Harem: Foreign Women in Modern Turkey. I was sooo excited! 29 foreign women, living in Turkey over the past forty years, soldiers, archeologists, entrepreneurs, teachers, telling short stories of their experiences!  I barely made it home before I cracked the book.

The first day at my parent’s house, I sat outside in the hammock, listening to the birds, drinking coffee and reading. Most of the time I was laughing so hard. Sometimes I would call my mom outside so I could read the passage to her. Combined with the Disney Channel, it was a great way to spend my week back in Mora.

In the introduction to the book, the authors write “Foreign women on Turkish soil are neither what nor who they used to be, yet they are not fully transformed by their brush with Turkey…Aligned in their ever-shifting contexts, both Turkey and the expatriate share a bond of constant metamorphosis.” When I read this, I knew I was going to love this book. It’s a great book for my fellow expats in Turkey…I haven’t finished the book yet, I’m trying to gauge myself because it’s so fun to read. I highly recommend this book!

Before leaving Turkey, I made a list of goals on my blog that I hoped to accomplish during the summer. One of my goals was to spend only a week in culture shock, compared to the month last summer. Let me explain the history behind this goal, and how it’s going now.

Last summer, after spending my first nine months in Turkey, I returned to America. The month before leaving Turkey was a whirlwind: constant people, Jake and Rana’s wedding, and many American visitors to Turkey. Returning to America wasn’t much better…Andy and Candy got married a little over a month after Jake and Rana. I came straight home to more people, more celebrating, and having to summarize a life-changing year to a LOT of people. When the celebrating suddenly ended, I had no idea what to do with myself.

There were a lot of things I had to do, but I just couldn’t decide what. I had to start working, I had to get settled, I had to see people. I just didn’t want to (which is completely unlike me.) I didn’t know what was wrong, until one day, maybe three weeks after returning, Jake said to me, “Are you going through reverse culture shock? Its ok if you are.” At first I was so offended, thinking, “I’m way too strong to go through reverse culture shock.” Then after pondering it for about a day, I realized that’s what it was reverse culture shock. After realizing that, I forced myself back into my American culture. It was such a weird position to be in, but I got through it.

This spring, I feared the same reaction when I got to America. I think this time I was prepared, since I was bracing myself for the worst. I came right into a schedule, working, hanging out with friends (but not too many.) I find myself feeling so comfortable and so normal right away, only two weeks since returning! I love going to dinner with friends, seeing the Twins massacre the Braves (6-0, thank you very much,) working, seeing my niece playing softball…and so on. It’s possible I’m moving onto another stage, though, finding only problems with my Minnesota home. Maybe I’ll share more about that in my next post. For now, I’m just happy to be feeling normal!

One of the exciting things for me about returning to America was picking up the book A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. I read The Kite Runner last fall (also by Hosseini) and it is definitely one of my favorite books I have ever read. I am still haunted by the secenes in that book. I read this review on Amazon.com. “As special as The Kite Runner was…A Thousand Splendid Suns is more so, bringing Hosseini’s compassionate storytelling and his sense of personal and national tragedy to a tale of two women that is weighted equally with despair and grave hope.” I had to read this book.

Both books are set in Afghanistan, spanning the time from the 1970’s to present day. As The Kite Runner tells the tragic story of a young Afghani boy’s childhood and young adulthood, so A Thousand Splenid Suns tells the heartbreaking stories of two young Afghani women’s childhoods and young adulthoods.

I was so excited to read A Thousand Splendid Suns that I forgot how hard The Kite Runner was to read. There were parts of The Kite Runner where I was ready to put the book away and not finish because of the heartbreak. However, there was a constant glimmer of hope that kept me reading. When reading A Thousand Splendid Suns, it was almost impossible to see that glimmer of hope. For the men of The Kite Runner, escaping Afghanistan was a possibility. It was nearly impossible, yes, but as men, they were eventually able to escape. For the women of A Thousand Splendid Suns, tragedy constantly ensues and, as a reader, it becomes impossible to hope for these women. It is certain that they will never escape their husband, their house, their country that they once loved. The times when I wanted to quit reading this book, I continued because of the women. The stories of the women are described so well that I feel like I am in the room. I feel like they are my neighbors or my sisters.

The end of the book leaves the reader heart-broken but hopeful. I was reading this review of A Thousand Splendid Suns on yahoo.com. She describes the book as a triumph, but also says, “No one in Afghanistan feels the hope Hosseini conjures at the end of this book. I wish they did. I understand Hosseini’s desire for it. But that hope is fiction. Reality is a desperate and bitter disillusionment with the whole post-Taliban experiment.”

It is a very difficult book to read and a difficult book to know how to respond to. I would recommend it to anyone who wants a realistic view of current Afghani history. However, with the book goes a warning. You will struggle at the end of the book about what to do now. You will mourn for the women of Afghanistan. And you will wonder why you were so lucky to be born into such privilege.

Almost a week after arriving home, I feel completely settled. I have started my new job (hanging out with two fun boys all day,) moved into a friend’s apartment, obtained access to a car, and spent lots of time with friends and family. In these few days, I have been noticing a lot of differences between my two homes. Last summer, I was so overwhelmed being back on American soil that I did not properly adjust for most of the summer. This summer, I am seeing America through different eyes, and hopefully I will be able to share some of these things with you.

One of the things I noticed almost immediately was the difference in how dogs are perceived in Turkish and American cultures. Some background information…This year, my roommates were at a picnic and saw a wet, cold, skinny, dirty puppy sitting in a mud puddle. What could they do except bring it home? Lusi Culiyet (the puppy) quickly adjusted to life in an apartment. However, our neighbors definately did not. At first, they were civil towards us, even petting her sometimes. However, as she was growing rather large, so too was our neighbors’ impatience growing. They complained about her noise, her size, and mostly, where she did her business. People would jump and run away everytime they saw her. Friends would not enter our house until they knew she was safely closed in the kitchen. Friends complained about her smell, how unclean our apartment was because of the dog hair, and many friends even admitted that they would come more often to visit if we did not have a dog!

On the other hand, the family I am working with has a four-year old Irish Terrier named Abe. Abe is adored through the neighborhood wherever we go…seriously! When I am walking him through a nearby park, people stop to pet him, some have said, “Oh, Abe and I know each other,” and, most shockingly, no one runs away from him! The funniest moment happened two days ago. Abe likes to “mark his territory” every 50 meters, or so. One such time was on a sidewalk. A woman who was walking by saw Abe, apparently peeing on the sidewalk. She saw the situation, and said, “What a sweet dog!” No “Tsk tsk tsk,” no reprimand, but a compliment!

Initially I was dumb-founded by this situation. Slowly I saw the hilarity in this comparison between cultures, and walked away smiling to myself. I am a dog-person at heart, but I think next year in Turkey, if we are brave enough to get a pet again, I will think about getting a cat.

It is so soooo good to be home! Yesterday, I left Turkey early in the morning and arrived in Minnesota in time to eat dinner with my family. Turkey feels so far from Minnesota sometimes, but one night I was eating dinner with friends at Fotografia, and the next night I’m eating dinner with my family at Chevy’s. Weird.

My flights were extremely uneventful, little turbulance…pretty much no problems at all, actually. I did remember during the flights, though, how much I hate flying. I really don’t like it at all. Everytime the plane was taking off or landing, I was reminded of all the plane crashes I’ve read about in the past. I was reminded of terrorists. I was reminded of those Turkish Airlines pilots who missed the runway a few months back. I wondered if they were the pilots on my flights. And then, everytime before the plane landed, I found myself making peace with God…seriously. It was kind of weird when I realized that I was doing it. I don’t know if I’ve just never noticed it before…I mean, maybe I always do it when I fly. However, I do know that I hate flying.

The only problem I had was the woman behind me on the 10-hour flight. She REALLY didn’t like it when I leaned my chair back. After our first meal, I leaned my chair back, and she literally grabbed my chair and started to shake it until I leaned it forward a little bit. Then for the next few minutes, I very gradually (so as to be unnoticable) moved my chair back until it was completely back. What she didn’t know won’t hurt her. Hehehe…

Anyway, its great to be home. Last night I stayed with Anna and its so great to be back in old neighborhoods, old restaurants and with friends and family. I do miss my friends in Turkey, but I’m so excited to be home sweet home!

I’m getting more and more excited as I’m getting ready to go to my Minnesota home for the summer. However, as I’m packing, moving, storing and bringing closure to my year, I’m starting to realize all of the things that I am really going to miss that are being left behind in Turkey.

I have absolutely loved my job this year. I’m becoming great friends with my coworkers and feel like I am starting to find my groove as a teacher! Last year as I took the 40-minute service bus ride to work, I dreaded arriving at my office to start the day. This year is definitely the opposite, and I have found myself on a few occasions waking up excited to go to work!

My brother and sister-in-law/best friend are not planning to go back to Minnesota until next Christmas. Last summer, we had such great evenings together as a family, sitting on the porch in our quiet neighborhood, chatting and smoking nargile. It’s sad that they won’t be joining us for these times this summer. (Even sadder, though, is hearing them make plans for after I’m gone!)

My soul will not only be missing friends while I’m in America; it will be crying out for Turkish food, too. I haven’t left Turkey yet and I already feel an emptiness growing in my stomach, having to leave behind dolma, iskender, sarma, good humus, mezes in general, tavuk sis, lahmacun and icli kofte. (However, I am SURE I’ll survive the summer without practically raw lamb meat on a stick, also known as Adana kebab.)

Upon returning to America last year, a hard lesson I learned was that life goes on when I leave places. As much as my self-centered heart wants life in Minnesota and life in Turkey to stop when I leave, I’m excited to see all the changes in my friends’ lives in Minnesota (pregnancies, new houses, new babies, new jobs, new boyfriends, etc.) And hopefully when the summer is through, I’ll be coming back to Turkey, looking forward to the same changes.

I love my life in Turkey. I love my job, my city, my area of the world, my new home. I’m fairly new to Turkey, so it’s hard for me to think of many things that I don’t love about my life here. There is one thing, though, that I can definately live without. I will never love saying goodbye.

This week has been a week of unexpected and unwanted goodbyes. Not only am I saying goodbye to my Turkish friends for the summer. To some friends and families who I have been getting to know for the last year or two, I’m saying goodbye for good.

Today has been an exceptionally hard day. This morning as I was getting off the service bus to go into school, I ran into an American woman who I’ve been getting to know since last year. She and I work at the same university and last year we were attending the same church and book club. (She was a faithful participant…I wish I could say the same for myself.) She is a woman who I look up to and respect in a lot of ways, especially for her years in Turkey. As we were walking into school and talking, I realized that I was probably seeing her for the last time, as she and her husband are finishing their time in Turkey.

After my classes, I went to the American school where I volunteer once a week. It was my last day at the school and I was saying goodbye for the summer to the students and parents. I have also been getting to know most of these children and their parents for the last two years, and I remembered that one of the families, who has been particularly warm and hospitable to me, is spending this next year in America, then moving to another city in Turkey.

It’s hard for me to know what to say in these situations. “See ya around” definately doesn’t feel appropriate. Even “God bless” feels lacking. It’s a strange thing to live in such a small foreign community that feels so unsettled, yet so deep.

It seems these days that everything reminds me of Minnesota. For some reason, small things in my day trigger huge daydreams about family, restaurants, friends, or shopping malls. Even today, I was simply looking at a tree outside my classroom and I started dreaming about hiking near Lake Superior! I’ve got a list of things in my head that I’m excitedly planning to do when I get to America, and I thought I’d share some of those things with you. (Sorry about sharing another list.)  

1. Go to the Mall of America
2. Eat Chipotle
3. Read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows
4. Spend time with my family
5. Drink bubble tea
6. Watch Conan O’Brian as much as possible
7. Shop Shop Shop!
8. Go to the Chanhassen with Mom, Grandma, the sisters and cousins
9. Simply sit at my parents’ quiet house in their quiet neighborhood for a few days

Many more exist. This morning, I was thinking about my favorite bubble tea cafe. I wondered whether it was still there. Then I started thinking about some of the other things on my list…What has happened to some of my favorite stores? Will there be road construction everywhere? Will Chipotle still taste as good? And more importantly, is Conan still on NBC???

 

I was reminded of a song that my roommate Lisa played for me last year. It’s called “Painting Pictures of Egypt” by Sara Groves. It’s a song about accepting and understanding change. I’ll post some of the lyrics here and I encourage you to try to find the song. It definitely sums up my feelings as I head to America for the summer.

I’ve been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacked
The future seems so hard
And I want to go back
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I’ve learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned

The past is so tangible
I know it by heart
Familiar things are never easy to discard
I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go
Caught between the promise
And the things I know

For the last two years, I have been a faithful supporter of Kuzen’s Corner, an unassuming store near my house that has become my favorite place to shop. From the street, it doesn’t look like much. Even from the inside its a bit sketchy. However, with a little digging, one can find GAP, Banana Republic, Old Navy, H&M, Mango, Tommy, Arizona, and Eddie Bauer. And of course, these great clothes include significantly reduced prices. 

Most of these clothes are made in factories near Adana and later shipped to Europe or America. Earlier this year, my roommate went on a short trip back to America for a wedding. During that time, she went to H&M at the Mall of America, and discovered the sweatshirt I had bought at Kuzen’s for 5YTL ($3) on sale for $35!

As I reflect on my two year relationship with Kuzen’s, I have no idea how many people I have introduced to this place, no idea how many pairs of pants I’ve bought, and no idea how I decided to step foot in the place to begin with! But I’m still excited everytime I find GAP jeans for 18 YTL ($15) or a Banana Republic shirt for 5YTL ($3.) So the next time you are in a store and see a tag that says Made in Turkey, you can guess that I bought the same article of clothing for a fourth of the price. There’s no place like Adana.

I have been teaching English at Çağ University, a small private school, for almost two years now.  I’m learning that every one of my classes has a distinct, unique personality. This year, some of my five classes are talkative, some quiet, some engaged in learning, some completely unengaged, some interested in my class, some totally not. I must say, I’m surprised that most of my classes this year are engaged and interested. However, there is one class in particular who I haven’t been able to rope in. The whole year has been a struggle to get them to engage in their writing, and there are only two weeks until the end of the year.

On a completely different, yet somehow related note, all year long some friends and I have been dreaming about having a Harry Potter party. In order to do so, we needed to recruit recruit recruit!!! All of the people we know have been encouraged to read the books to join us for the party. We have been somewhat successful, but more people=more fun, right?

Last Monday, as I was leaving yet another lifeless, quiet class, on a whim I turned back and asked, “Have any of you read the Harry Potter books?” The books are quite unpopular in Turkey among our generation, mainly seen as books for children. Needless to say, I was shocked when two girls jumped out of their seats, saying, “We have! We have!” We started talking about the books, and they started asking me my opinions about some of the most burning questions of the summer…Where is Sirius, really? Is Snape good or bad? What do I think about the prophecy? And what’s the deal with Neville Longbottom?…It was one of the greatest discussions I’ve had with students all year!

They whole-heartedly decided to come to our party, asking what food they can bring. Its great to finally bond with these students a little bit. And its finally looking like we’ll have a decent turn out for the party! Check back next week for a full review and pictures of the party…