Istanbul

1-7-09
This has been the hardest blog entry to convince myself to write. Not because I don't want to share my trip, all the amazing things I experienced and the incredible time I had, but because I knew that writing it would mean re-living it all, something I wasn't ready to do for a few days.

Let me explain. My last month or so in Lesotho was a little rough. I was feeling really bored, lonely and, honestly, pretty worthless. While there are things I'm working on here, projects I'm really hoping will make an impact, I spend most of my time alone, sitting at home. This means I spend way too much time thinking about what I expected this experience would be, all the things I thought I'd be doing here, the job I had envisioned. That inevitably leads to thinking way too much about what I could be doing were I not here, a life that wouldn't be so boring or lonely, time I could be spending with friends and family. I hoped that my trip would make it better, that time spent in a new place with a great friend would renew me, let me return eager to try at this again.

My two weeks in Istanbul came and went much too fast, time spent with someone I adore gone too quickly. The whole trip, I kept telling myself that by the end I'd be ready to get going. The thing is, as time passed, all I wanted to do was stay longer or, knowing that wasn't an option, go home. To the States.

Making myself board the plane back was hard, painful. I just wanted to run. I didn't want to be alone again, I didn't want to leave my friend, I didn't want to go back to spending several days at a time without having a real, meaningful conversation. I greeted my arrival into Johannesburg with tears, fought waves of panic as the kombi took me to the taxi rank and eventually back to Lesotho.

I spent my first day back in Mafeteng weighing my options, and as much as everything in me wanted to hide and stay in bed, I convinced myself to do some work on the PEPFAR grant for the HIV/AIDS Day event to keep my mind occupied. I cried some, sulked a lot and wondered how I was going to do this for another year and a half.

But yesterday it seemed there was some hope. I went the PSI to give them the “eye” (traditional in Turkey, it's a blue glass medallion that looks like an eye and is said to protect from evil) I brought back from Turkey as a gift for the office. And, to my shock, I actually felt happy – happy to talk to my co-workers and catch up on the latest news. And they were happy to see me too, saying that they'd missed me, that they were all really glad I was back. 'M'e Mosele, the site manager, promptly hung the “eye” in the waiting room after giving me a huge hug and saying that I looked just as beautiful as always.

Good days and really bad ones make up this experience. While my return from vacation marked the worst few days I've had here so far, it also made me see that in a while, even though I'll never stop missing friends and family, I'll get used to this life again.

So on to the Istanbul recap!

The day of my departure, I left Maseru around 8 a.m. to ensure that I made it to Johannesburg in plenty of time for my flight, which departed around 9:30 p.m. The trip to Jo'burg is supposed to be just five hours by road, but knowing how often kombis breakdown or stop, I didn't want to take any chances. I made my way through the border crossing at Maseru Bridge and walked to the taxi rank on the South Africa side, asking which kombi would take me to Jo'burg. After stowing my bags I found the driver and asked him if, when we arrived at the Jo'burg taxi rank, he would drive me directly to the kombis for the airport (the Jo'burg taxi rank is notorious for theft so everyone I'd talked to advised me to tell the driver to drop me at my connecting kombi so I wouldn't have to walk in the rank). After we discussed my final destination, he decided it would be better for me to take the kombi heading to Pretoria and that the driver of that kombi would take me all the way to the airport, no transfers, no extra fee. Of course I agreed!

It took us seven and a half hours to get to the airport. We stopped in Ladybrand, just a few kilometers from Maseru, for petrol and food. We stopped again an hour and a half later for food and water. We stopped not long after that for a bathroom break. And just 30 minutes later the driver, who'd been acting a bit strange, pulled over again, proceeded to recline his seat and take a nap. I was really confused about what was going on, but none of the other passengers seemed concerned so I let it go. About an hour after resuming our drive we stopped yet again for food and a bathroom break. The driving was somewhat erratic after that, gradually slowing to a crawl and then, all of a sudden, speeding up, the driver taking off his shirt and pouring water over himself.

After dropping some of our passengers we continued on towards Pretoria and the airport. Though I'd never driven there before, I knew we were getting close as the roads improved and lanes and traffic increased. After nearly driving off the road and hitting a bridge, at which point I yelled at him and told him to pay attention and be careful, the driver pulled over again, on the side of a four-lane highway, to take another nap. Thirty minutes later, after driving at a crawl, he pulled off again at a rest stop so he could sleep. At this point there were just three of us left, myself and two bo-'M'e who were headed to Pretoria. I asked one of them what was wrong with him. Was he drunk? The answer was no (though it wouldn't have surprised me), that he'd been driving Maseru to Pretoria round-trip runs for a few days without sleeping. I was quite concerned about making it safely at this point but didn't see any other options. I didn't know how much farther the airport was, there was no way to hire another ride from the rest stop. After 45 minutes, we woke the driver, one of the bo-'M'e gave him a drink of her Coke and we moved on.

It turns out that, after the last stop, we weren't very far from the airport. The 'M'e who had explained to me what was going on sat in awe as we wound around an exit and hurtled down a road much like an interstate. She'd never been to Pretoria or Jo'burg before, never seen roads like these. I just hoped we made it safely as I wasn't convinced the rickety kombi could withstand the speed or maneuvers our driver was employing. After trying to drop me off at the exit ramp to the airport (I had to explain that it was NOT safe for me to walk up) the driver pulled into the International Departures terminal and out I jumped only to come face-to-face with several gawking South Africans. “What is a white girl doing in that thing?” was painted clearly on their faces. I thanked the driver and told the bo-'M'e to have a safe trip to Pretoria. And off they went.

Even at seven and a half hours, I was early for check-in. A nice, elderly gentleman in line chatted me up, asking if it was my first trip to Turkey and what I was planning to do there. After he left to grab some food, I sat down with my book and was joined by a 20-something Jo'burg resident who was flying to Morocco via Istanbul. She had lived in the States and we spent the rest of our wait talking all about Peace Corps, the challenges of a South African living in U.S. and vice versa, her job in Jo'burg and our respective trips. Not a bad way to pass the time.

The flight was nice, the food decent and before I knew it we were landing in Istanbul. At 6 a.m. After a trip through Passport Control and recovering my bag, I walked out to a huge crowd of people waiting, greeting friends and family with hugs, kisses and lots of pictures. It felt like a throng of paparazzi. Not remembering which direction Josh had told me to meet him, I fled to the right (which seemed less packed with people) and settled down on a chair to wait. Luckily, even though he had told me to go left, Josh found me quickly. I felt instant relief seeing him, my first familiar face in more than six months.

We took a subway, tram and bus through the city and to the where we'd be staying. It was chilly and rainy, but it didn't matter, I was just happy to be there. We began the climb up the never-ending staircase (I had no idea I was so used to walking on flat ground) to the house, which belongs to an American ex-pat for which Josh was house-sitting. The climb was worth it, though, as the house boasted amazing views of the Bosphorus and one of the two bridges connecting the European and Asian sides of the city. Absolutely nothing to complain about, with the exception of the owner's three cats (and the reason for Josh getting the house-sitting gig). Mass consumption of Benadryl began.

After I took a long, hot shower (I will never, ever take showers for granted again) we both agreed it was time for a nap. Josh hadn't gone to sleep the night before as his only option for meeting me at the airport when my plane arrived was to take a 4 a.m. bus. I also hadn't slept much, spending the previous two nights at the Peace Corps Training Center and on a plane, respectively. After some rest and recuperation, we headed to a mall where I got my fill of window shopping and Burger King and we took in a movie.

Sightseeing began in earnest the next day. Josh explained the public transport system and took me to visit my first mosque. We began with the "Blue Mosque," which sits opposite the Haghia Sophia, and is named for the blue tiles within. He narrated the history of the mosque and answered my questions with detail and enthusiasm that can only come from someone who's studied the region in-depth. I realized then just how incredibly spoiled I was, staying for free at a place with a great view, being shown the city by my own personal tour guide.

We continued touring the area, Josh helping me get my bearings and telling me the history of each spot, stopping by another mosque, tombs of sultans, the Grand Bazaar, book market, Spice Bazaar (which I was informed, emphatically, is actually called the Egyptian Market) and the most beautiful mosque I saw, the Yeni Cami or “New Mosque.” We weaved through narrow streets, perusing shops and vendors and enjoyed my first taste of traditional Turkish cuisine. A good day. We ended with a ferry ride across and north up the Bosphorus before walking back to the house and relaxing with some television and the only English-language movie we could find on.

The following day, Christmas Eve, we visited the Islamic Art Museum, which featured stone, metal, mother of pearl and wood pieces along with brightly-colored, intricately painted books and scrolls. The highlight, though, was the rugs. Hundreds of years old, the patterns and colors were amazing. We then made our way to Taksim, an area full of shops, restaurants and bars, via a walk from the museum, over the Bosphorus and up a rather large hill. I was a bit grumpy about the hike at first, but we stopped by a gorgeous tower and the view made it well worth it. For dinner Josh took me to an iscandir (totally guessing on the spelling) restaurant. Iscandir, which basically consists of chunks of bread topped with lots of butter, tomato sauce, meat and yogurt, turned out to be my favorite Turkish dish. After dinner we visited a pub with cheap beer and then a bar with a live band playing Balkan music. Around midnight we headed back through Taksim square to catch our bus home and it began to snow. It didn't last long and it didn't stick, but it snowed on Christmas.

On Christmas Day Josh and I headed north and crossed to the Asian side of Istanbul via ferry. We walked up to an old castle overlooking the Red Sea. Istanbul has a fair share of stray dogs and cats, and this area was no exception. A friendly, surprisingly healthy-looking dog greeted us at the pier and escorted us all the way to the castle, stayed with us while we took it all in, then walked back down with us. The sun was out, the air was crisp and the views were amazing. In the evening we headed back to Taksim to meet up with a group of Josh's friends for dinner. We joined in a traditional feast beginning with tons of appetizers, bread and salad followed by grilled meat and veges. The dinner, which usually lasts several hours, also included Raki, a potent liquorice-flavored alcohol that is drank diluted with water.

The next day Josh needed to do some work so I headed out on my own to visit the Topkapi Sarayi, a palace near the Haghia Sophia. The cold and rain put a bit of a damper on my visit as the palace is largely open-air, but the architecture and tiles were beautiful. Large rooms displayed imperial treasures, from ceramics imported from Asia to dazzling jewels to collections of robes and rugs. One area displayed religious relics including the purported staff of Moses and footprint of Mohamed. Another included paintings of sultans, many of which were commissioned hundreds of years after their reigns and of whom no one has any idea what they actually looked like. After finishing my tour I stopped by a Starbucks, sipped on a latte (oh how I miss them) and read until Josh met me and we went for dinner and drinks.

The next few days were spent relaxing and enjoying things I can't do in Lesotho, like visiting the mall, going to the movie theater, watching television and taking advantage of a washing machine and unlimited, fast internet access. Mostly, I enjoyed just having the company of a good friend. Josh and I took strolls down the Bosphorus, watching boats and fisherman, chatting and hanging out. One day we visited Ortaköy and ate loaded baked potatoes (awesome), another just walking by the water, taking lots of pictures and eating more iscandir.

The second week of my visit also marked Josh's birthday, which we celebrated with dinner at a manti café (manti is sort of like a meat ravioli topped with butter, garlic, yogurt and herbs) followed by drinks with some of his friends and dancing to live Balkan music. The following day we rang in the new year at a party thrown by one of Josh's friends. His friend lives on the Asian side of Istanbul, directly on the water, near one of the two bridges traversing the Bosphorus. We greeted 2009 sipping on champaign, gazing at the bridge's ever-changing colored lights and enjoying private fireworks displays going off up and down the waterfront. It is a moment, a new years, I will never forget.

And then, all of a sudden, I had little time left. On my last full day in town I visited Istanbul's most famous landmark, the Haghia Sophia. Unfortunately my camera battery died just as I walked in, so I don't have nearly as many photos as I'd like. Josh and I went to Taksim and splurged a bit on dinner and drinks. As we rode the bus home I stared out the window, trying to sear each site into my mind, and contemplated leaving, going back to Lesotho, how much I would miss everything I was experiencing. On my last afternoon in town, Josh accompanied me back to the Grand Bazaar and helped negotiate a decent price for some souvenirs. We walked around, my last chance to take in the mosques, shops and buildings, had manti for dinner and headed to the airport.

I held back tears as we said our goodbyes and promised to see each other again (relatively) soon. After one last hug he waited for me walk through Passport Control and to the terminal, both of us waving goodbye over and over again. When I couldn't see him anymore, I sat down and cried. I cried until I boarded the plane and forced myself to sleep.

So there it is, probably a lot more detail about my trip, and my current mental state, than you wanted to know. I'm so glad for it all, though. I had the trip of a lifetime in a city that has won my heart. To Josh, thank you for everything! And to everyone else, don't worry, this low point too shall pass. Tomorrow I head to Maseru for All-Vol Conference, the yearly meeting of all Peace Corps Lesotho Volunteers and staff. When I return there's the PEPFAR grant and HIV/AIDS Day event to plan, the PSI support group project to launch, the library to prepare for and I begin teaching life skills classes at Kingsgate High School on January 19. The sun is out and the weather is wonderful. There are things to be happy about here too.