A few days
before coming to Antalya, besides from tearing my hair off and biting my nails
out of nervousness (and anxiety, and happiness, and sadness, and melancholy…
Let’s just not talk about it), I was seriously wondering whether it was going
to be worth it. To be completely honest, the thought of going to a country
whose language was a complete mystery to me, and where I would not even know
how to order a burger at the local restaurant or buy some yoghurt for
breakfast, truly scared me. Because, of all places I considered moving into
when making the huge step of entering the professional world, Turkey was the last
country I would have thought of.
Ok, I didn’t
even think about it.
So, when I
got off the plane, facing the oh-so-feared 30 degrees at eight o’clock in the
evening, carrying my whole life in 5 heavy bags, I didn’t know what to think,
what to do or what to say (most of all, what to say apart from “hello, how are
you?”). Luckily, my BFF and her husband, the best people ever, were here to help me, and I could not thank them
enough for what they did for me. Seeeriiiously.
Ten days have
passed now, and I can say this city inspires me. I can’t exactly explain the
feeling. I found my way into writing again. I’m always willing to discover more.
I try to learn a new word every day by reading out loud whatever I see on the
streets. And right now, sitting on my balcony, I poorly attempt to perpetuate
my thoughts, mesmerized by the abrupt cultural difference, but I can only think
of that moment when I’ll make my way through the uncountable landscapes, little
towns, beaches, mountain trips and anything Turkey-related. I want to express
how delighted I am to be here, I want to use gigantic words to show off my emotion,
but I can only say I’m happy.
And I don’t
usually show off my feelings…
Because sleeping
with your window wide open and being waken up at 5 am by azan, to then watch the sunrise with a five-coloured sky, having chips for breakfast, greeting someone by telling them "may work come easy to you", or going to
the local shop and having the fruit seller pick you the best and bigger melon,
has no price. This is the place where
traffic can be as chaotic as back in Colombia, where there’s a Camii in every single corner, each one
prettier than the other, where it feels like holiday every day, and where you can have both beach and mountains,
all in one. Snow and sea. 22 degrees in November?
So, in the meantime, I’ll
just stay with this:
Kaşar peyrini with some kavun and vişne suyu.
Bitti.
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