An American Life in Istanbul

I have been thinking a lot lately about why I came to Turkey. Things have not been as easy as I had anticipated they would. There are many things that bother me, and that are not going as I would like them to. I won’t go into any great detail because frankly, it’s not interesting.

This is however not the right question to answer. I am already in Turkey, who cares why I came. The proper question is “why am I in Turkey?” Of course you must be able to answer the first question before you can answer the second question, and you must be me before you can answer either I suppose. The consensus among people who Baris tells of my coming to Turkey is that I must be crazy. The common reaction is ‘who would leave America for Turkey? Everyone wants to go the other way.’

I guess the answer is me, and a small group of other people who must think in a somewhat similar way to myself. What was I thinking when I came here; adventure! Since the first time I took that big step over the pond to Europe way back in the summer of 2003, I have been enamored with the idea of traveling and seeking adventure. I remember growing up and having my father all the time returning from business trips with stories of different cultures and places. Returning to school in September meant hearing of Vlad and Lukasz’s adventures in their home countries. I was jealous, but patient. That first trip, I remember being absolutely overwhelmed with excitement as my plane touched down in Amsterdam, as I took the train to Germany to spend a week with the Van Elten family before moving on to Turkey. It’s like it happened yesterday.

Since that time, I have been a glutton for traveling, for trying new things, for meeting new people, for adventure. I somewhat fancy myself as an adventure seeker. Like a drug, each fix I get, only leaves a greater hunger for more. Will it end? That I am afraid to answer. For now, I live in the present. I have little if any responsibility, I own nearly nothing, and I have no ghosts in the closet to hide from, and I like that.

At the moment I am in Tunisia, sitting in a garden beneath a nearly full moon, surrounded by rather unimpressive yet beautiful white buildings having a beer and smoking a nargile (I know, they are both bad habits). The atmosphere is wonderful. It inspires in me a pleasant calm, and a desire to write. Sitting here, I can’t help but think about what were my favorite things about all the places I have visited.

In the Marshall Islands, it was being there with Danny. In Egypt it was Paal and Graham. In Switzerland it was Paal, Kathi, Otto, Nuno and Alyse. In Turkey it was Izzy and Basar. Always it has been the people. My favorite thing about each place I have been is the people that were there with me. Going somewhere is one thing, but having a friend there with you changes it completely. Having someone to share the experience with, to laugh at the jokes, to laugh at each other, to talk to, to argue with, makes everything that much better. One of my favorite moments in the past few months was a rather mundane evening on a boat in Egypt in which my brother Graham told a rather stupid joke after an equally stupid joke from me. It was hilarious though. We laughed for a good 10 or 15 minutes with tears running down our cheeks and a pain in our sides. Trying to retell the joke made us laugh even harder. Had anyone else told that joke, it wouldn’t have been funny. That is my favorite memory of Egypt.

I guess I am extremely social (I guess we probably all knew that). I try to be friends with everybody, because everybody has good qualities. Everybody can be fun, and enjoyable to spend time with. Everybody has bad qualities as well, but if you look at them in the right light, there is a friend in everybody. It is because of this that I want to say thank you to everyone whom has been a friend to me and still is:

Tom, Brett, Vlad, Lukasz, Nick, Bobby, Jennie S, Katie S, Andra, Ilya, Dave, Parisa, Rahul, Rahal, Eric, Jeremy, Paal, Otto, Hacker, Shitling, Vince, Charles, Vicki, Nuno, Stefan, Kathi, Alyse, Liz V, Jessica, Foli, Ma, ChoCho, Maung, Joseph, Dr Santiago, EiEi, Kristen, Liz P, Patrick, Pee Pants, Chewie, Clann, Rhina, Adrienne, Inger, Izzy, Basar, Tahsin, Leigh, Kim, Aubrey, Arun, Danny, Jennie K, Amy, Arianna, Irene, Tommy Puddles, Philthy, BD, Holt, Chris D, Chuckles, Alan, Johannes, Esteban, Fubar, Bruce Lee, Jerome, Lauren, OTR, Raka, Kelly, Sam, Kami, Murat, Liz C, Daneille, Kostya, Karolina, Kat, Anastasia, Roberto, Butters, Kentai, Dan C, Bird, Santiago, Donk, SeanO, Stefanie W, Andre, Buffalo, Dave M, Amin, Davide, Mireia, Baris, Franziska, George, Liz A, Yann, Jason, Lock, Beth, Martin, Israel, David S,Will, and of course my family.

So, who just did a search for their name on this entry? Tool.

The conclusion that follows is do you really need to go anywhere to find adventure? It doesn’t matter where you go or what you do. Instead it’s about who you go with. For all you know the next great adventure could be that person sitting next to you in class, or that person that stops you to ask for directions. We need only keep an open mind and wear a smile, and adventure will find its way into our lives. But where does it end? Is it possible that there is that one adventure that can be the final chapter in each of our stories, that lets our stories come to a satisfactory ending?

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