I'm trying to blog again (key word: trying)

what do you say to revive your blog, when you've had probably the 7 most exciting months of your entire life...but also the busiest? I'm way behind.

In summary...it's been very hard but very great.

I've lost a lot of former conveniences, like a car, and, well, a common language with the majority of people. I'm far from my family and friends. I'm living alone. And I think one of the hardest things is loosing my life as an undergrad student...and starting a real job. I miss my days of "occupation: student" at UofA and being a "professional friend" at CESL.

But all of these were to pass eventually.

So considering that reality...I love Turkey.

here's some ways Turkey has changed me:

1. I like spicy food. My palate has changed completely!
2. I can drink ayran! What?! ptl!
3. I can buy dresses here! For modesty convictions, shopping was near impossible in America.
4. Related to this, I can say that now...I care about how I look more. Not that I didn't before, but I suppose that since in America everyone has an "anything's fine" attitude, I'd be happy to wear a sweatshirt, jeans, and flip flops everyday if I could. Not that I don't love hoodies anymore, but it's not my primary choice. And in America, even at work or a formal event, I would still rarely wear heels, and never would I wear tights/nylons (the latter may be an Arizonan thing...donno). Well, now I do. Although I must admit, I still feel clueless in how to buy çoraplar (a general term for socks/nylons/tights/leggings/etc.). Most of the crazy designs my students wear still don't appeal to my own style.
5. I expect tea after meals when eating out. And when going out with friends, or going to someone's house.
6. I will wonder what I should say back in America when I would normally say Turkish phrases like "afiyet olsun" (said to people eating), "kolay gelsin" (lit. "may it come easily for you," said kind of like "good luck" but also can be said to random people working anywhere), "geçmis olsun," ("may it be passed" after something is over with, or when someone's not feeling well)
7. I never say "sick" or "peach" - it's "ill" or Turkish "hasta" for sick, and just "şeftalı" for the fruit. That's just the way it is.
8. I've picked up odd English phrases that are from Turkish English speakers or even British English - "most probably," "have a look," "lift," "very significant for people life" (that's from my students)...that's what I can think of now. And this started before Turkey, but "see you" (as opposed to the more American "see ya" or "see you later") is fossilized.

I can't say I've adapted completely. I can't say it feels like home. But, I know, I can't say that "home" feels like home either, or ever really did. I know I had a hard time adapting to my own culture in America just as I am now in TC. So I think being pulled from familiarity to live and let a new place become familiar has actually really helped me.

Mark R used to say that the less you feel at home anywhere, the better. Because we aren't home.

This reality doesn't frustrate me anymore. I know I have to be patient. But really, the wait is not all that bad, no matter how difficult work is, or dark and evil this world is. It's not bad in comparison to the glory that's to come. My hugest comfort here has been Jesus' words "And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."

He has been here with me. He's shown that to be undeniable.

I love him.

Daphne sent me a story about another woman, a Brazilian, who lived in Turkey for a little while and now lives in England. She said "Home...is at the epicentre of God's will"

Switchfoot's lyrics still mean a lot to me. "I've been poisoned, I've been raped, I've been burned again. I've seen ashes shine like chrome. Someday I'll see home." And so many more songs that I can share (I think I will).

I can't express how hard it's been. And I can't have any expectations that it will ever get better or easier. But I've made great friends, had wonderful, unforgettable times, and I know God more. What more can I ask for? ...And I may not feel the same tomorrow. And tomorrow may not be what I want. But he is good despite my feelings and plans. I have hope that greater things will continue, and be all the more meaningful.

Until I'm home.