A last look at... Adana

One last shot of Adana, my home for the past two years. I love you Adana. You were very good to me. Maybe we'll meet again some day. Until then, I'll have these to remember you by.

Enjoy.

Junior at the barbershop.
Fruit and vegetable market.
The Grand Mosque
Either drunk, homeless, or both, outside the train station.
Late night prayers at my mosque.
Ali and Şahin giving lessons.
Prayer beads at the Butter Mosque.
Pulpit at the Butter Mosque.
What was once a tunnel for escaping from a church is now a washing room for entrance to a mosque.
A friend of mine outside the Butter Mosque.
Street scene on a hot Adana night.

A last look at... Antioch

Here's a clutch of photos from the ancient city of Antioch. Most of them are from the museum there. Enjoy.

Peter on the door to the Orthodox Church.
The side of an ancient sarcophagus in the Antioch museum.
One of the many mosaics in the Antioch museum.
Bust of an Emperor
Neptune and his fishes.
This throne was dated pre-Christ, yet you can still just walk up and sit on it (until the guard catches you).
Family Tree?
Goofy looking bust.
More sarcophagus love.
The Fashion Saloon - For Man
Looking out over the city. I'll miss you Antioch.

A Last Look at... Mardin

Here's some pictures from a quick trip I made out to eastern Turkey to the city of Mardin. Enjoy.
A young man heading off to do his mandatory military service.
Looking toward Syria.
The one operating Orthodox church in town. Supposedly it draws 300 people on a typical Sunday.
With the oddly shaped minarets and the fact that Mardin sits on a hill on the edge of a vast plain, it lends itself to these sweeping landscape shots.
My traveling companion on one of Mardin's narrow streets.
Prayer beads on the wall of the mosque that held a plaster print of Mohammed's foot.
Passing the time with tavla.
The monastery outside of town. We got there just in time to see them close.
The man who picked us up and took us to town from the monastery. He ended up sitting with us over dinner, talking about spiritual things, and then paying for our dinner. I hope God speaks to him and blesses him greatly.
Selling çiğ köfte on the street by the bus station.

A Last Look at... Tarsus

Here are a handful of pictures from my last trip over to Tarsus. Enjoy.

One day I want a beard like that.
My time here in Turkey is over. I wonder what's over the next hill?
When I asked if I could take their picture, the old man (the one on the left) told me that I could, but that I couldn't use it in any advertisements.
His modeling contract must not allow for freelance work.
Goodbye Tarsus.

Going "Home"

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know.
-"Home" by Michael Buble

As my time here has slowly grown shorter and shorter, I have had to deal with a lot of mixed emotions. Emotions that I did not expect to have, at least not at this time.

Pretty much everyone that I've ever met living overseas has gone through periods of really missing their home and periods of really loving their current country. I went through that cycle many times. Some days I would kill for a Dr. Pepper and some college football. Then, on other days, I go downtown and stay out late just because I want to be out with the people as much as I possibly can. This has been going on for two years and hasn't been a big surprise. It still happens. And that feeling can change from week to week, day to day, or even hour to hour. Missing home, wanting to be there, missing friends and family, these are all things that have just become part of life. You learn to deal with it.

So none of that has been a problem. But here recently, I was thrown a curve ball and caught extremely off guard. As my departure has gotten closer, I've been forced to think about what I'm going to do in the States. I need a job, place to stay, and some sort of plan for the immediate future. At times I get excited about it all and at times I am scared to death. One day I'm ready to go, one day I never want to leave.

So what has changed? Didn't I just say that missing home was a natural part of life here? Yes. But there is one big difference. There's a few questions that came up in my mind and heart that I had a hard time answering.

Where is home? And how is my family?

There's a great conversation between two characters (Andrew and Sam) in a movie I like (Garden State) that goes like this:

Andrew Largeman: You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place to put your shit, that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew Largeman: You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day. One day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

I lost that feeling of home a long time ago. I didn't grow up in the same house my whole life. The last house I lived in before going to Clemson was the one I lived in the longest. But then in the spring of my freshman year, my parents moved out of that one. I rarely went "home" during college and then I moved to CO, which might as well have been Turkey. I could go back to SC anytime and have a place to stay. I still do. That's not a problem. But I didn't have a home there. But, again, I was used to that. This new problem came up when I began to realize that I might not feel at home in the United States anymore. Forget not having a house to call home, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to call one country home!

Now, I know, it's very dramatic and blow out of proportion. I know that. But consider that I've been gone for almost two years now. When I go back, I'm going to be living in a city that I have only driven through once. Everything will be new again. I know everything hasn't changed in two years, but enough has to make me feel like a stranger. Which brings up the second question.

Who is my family? Everybody that knows me knows that my family has never really been like a family at all. My parents divorced when I was little and both have gone through (at least) one more marriage apart from each other. Almost everyone in my family has been divorced and arrested. When I became a Christian, the gap between them and I became exponentially larger. I still love them and I still visit them, but I haven't been part of the family for many years now. My friends and Christian brothers and sisters have been my family over the years. I have latched on to friend's families and tried to make myself a part of them. Here is no different. Here I have the V-family that I have grafted myself into. They are gracious and loving and have accepted me in as one of the clan. But there are others as well. Special K, the Canadian, the Anti, the Botanist, Crack and Miss Kitty, Zack and Mrs. Yates, they've all become like family to me. We have shared life together. And even though I know that I'm just a small part in their lives, they have become large parts of mine.

I have lived in the apartment I'm sitting in now longer than I have lived anywhere since I left home for Clemson. I haven't had a consistent group of friends since my sophomore year at Clemson. I haven't attended the same church for this long in years. This place feels as much home to me as any place. The people I am with here are just as much my family as anyone I know. It's hard for me to think about leaving this place and these people.

I know I have wonderful friends waiting for me. I have people that are waiting to make me feel as much at home as they can. I have a wonderful girl that has waited a long time for me to get there. I have a lot to look forward to. I do and I am honestly excited about the new few weeks and months. I don't want you to misunderstand me. I am ready to leave. But at the same time, the grass doesn't seem all that much greener on the other side. It's no worse, it's just a totally different pasture.

I will always look back on these two years of my life very fondly. Where, for a brief time, I found a place that felt something like home. And I found some people that felt a lot like family.

I miss home, where ever that may be.

Sabancı Merkez Cami

It's not the White Stallion that I used to have, but this baby gets me (close to) anywhere I want to go (that's on it's route).
This is actually from the Butter Mosque. It's part of an old tunnel that ran from the then Crusader church, under the river, to the other side. It served as an escape route for whoever was occupying the area at the time. Now it's where these Muslim men do their washing before prayer.
Downtown scene. I just wanted a picture of the market and got the three ladies walking in stride as a bonus.
Sabaci Merkez Cami - supposedly the largest mosque in Turkey (per Wikipedia, see picture on right hand side of page).
Inside the Sabanci Mosque, pointing the way to Mecca.
Minbar - Islamic Pulpit
The large, central dome on mosques was started by the Ottomans. The idea was taken from Byzantine churches, most notably the Hagia Sophia.
Men chatting before prayers. Most the mosques here are much cooler during the day because of how they're built, thus providing a great place for men to relax and fellowship together, though you rarely see them crowded.
Same guys, one of which has started his prayers.
The women's section. Almost all mosques have men and women separated for prayers. The reasoning is so that they don't distract each other from their prayers. Mohammed supposedly said, "The best mosque for a woman is the inner parts of her house."

A few more from Cappadocia

These were all taken during the trip up to Cappadocia. The scenery is absolutely amazing, but I haven't figured out how to capture that on film quite yet. I hope you enjoy.

This is simit, a wonderful snack that is somewhere between a pretzel and a bagel with sesame seeds. I bought one for a homeless guy the morning we left for Cappadocia, but he wouldn't take it.
I liked the look of the sheen on the water. When I tried to get the picture, someone inside the station turned on the fountain to ruin it for me. Once the water calmed down, I went back, and the same thing happened. I gave them the evil eye and the third time I approached, I got the shot, with the dead bug as a reward for my persistence.
Yes, I've become that creepy dude who carries his camera to the bathroom with him.
One day the Anti, the Botanist, the elder V-Boy, and I rented four-wheelers for a couple hours. We had a blast and no one got hurt. Though, as you can see here, there were a couple close calls.
Once we got back on the trail though, we were able to enjoy the ancient cliff dwellings that surround the modern villages of Cappadocia.
And explore the many valleys that house thousand year old churches and rock formations that are like nothing I've ever seen.
Then we took turns getting air-born on our four wheelers.
Artifacts from the not so ancient history.
Then a bunch of us guys rented mopeds the next day. We took them into places that mopeds are not supposed to go into. There were a few spills. This is the result of fall #1 (notice the mud flap on the moped to the left is missing).
More of the landscape that makes Cappadocia so unique and intriguing.
The weather was awesome all week and I enjoyed every second of the get-a-way. I really love the people I get to work with and to spend a week in such a beautiful place with them all was a huge blessing. With my end approaching, I made sure to enjoy and treasure every moment of it. And, thanks to the Canadian, I'll have all these pictures to remember it by.