Merhaba. Ankara is a very comfortable place to be in. Despite the fact that nobody speaks English outside of our community, it feels a lot like home. Aside from the the heat, the traffic and the staggered development that makes it look a lot like parts of Metro Manila (or perhaps closer to Rizal/Laguna area), the people are really very friendly and helpful. For example, after being told that my bank here will be open on a Saturday and upon finding that it wasn't on the time of my arrival, I tried to ask around if it was going to open that day. Armed with my phrasebook I uttered the syllables that were supposed to mean, "What time does Garanti open?" Sure enough within minutes, I was surrounded by six men trying to understand what I was saying and another sent off to look for someone who spoke English. It's definitely a place I could see myself staying awhile, should alternative plans fall through.
I'm happy too for the openness of the people I work with. I suppose with the constant comings and goings they've acquired a perpetual welcoming attitude. I'm pleased with the church I found and the community there. Most of all, I'm relieved with how well-behaved and motivated my students are, since I spend most of my time with them.
Unexpectedly, I'm transitioning much better that I had initially scared myself into thinking. I'm no social butterfly and I haven't shed all the awkwardness that is in me, but I've found people to talk to and spend time with. Thanks to skype/aim/gtalk, I don't have to feel lonely for my friends everywhere else in the world.
Having my own place, though is a huge adjustment. It feels daunting to be responsible for all the rooms of this small apartment. Tidying up has to be done everyday, else everything piles up and I've got no floor to walk on or bed to sleep in. Buying groceries is turning out to be a chore. I think I have to do a bit more planning on that. So far I've thrown out at least three bags of produce which I didn't have time to cook. Just tonight, I thought I'd salvage my meat by throwing out the doubtful parts and cooking the rest, only to end up chucking the whole dish after cooking it because the doubt stuck with me.
I do think I'm slowly making my way to being more responsible, although I'm at a place where I'm resenting having to grow up, which I probably should have done six or so years ago.
This weekend we went to Water Country in Portsmouth, NH. Geronimo is a 58-foot almost straight down speed slide. I was free falling. Twice.
In two days I have to say goodbye to some of the best people I know, some students and some co-workers. It hasn't quite hit me with the finality it deserves. I've always avoided saying goodbye by convincing myself that these relationships are merely making a turn, away from constant physical presence to long-distance attentiveness. To a certain extent, I had been rightly persuaded. This time, it is different. Between my students being too young and my relationships with my co-workers a little premature, I see no avenue for continuity. Alas, this goodbye might just be a final farewell.
I never want to forget how I fell in love twenty-five times over, five days a week. There were days I almost cried, trying so hard to contain my anger, only to be softened by one apologetic look. I would revel in the quiet of the holidays, only to find myself emptied and ready to be filled again by their presence.
Twelve months ago I was so uncertain of the future. I had no idea God had such great love in store for me.
I've been meaning to write but all my days seem to meld together until I can no longer distinguish yesterday from the day before or from the week that passed. More agonizingly, I have no clear idea on how all my time was spent. Interestingly, even as the school year winds down, and we go from project to project, there's still more work to be done - in addition to all the summer school business and moving to Ankara.
I shall try to come back and write again this weekend. In the meantime, I have to flip my calendar once again. I can already see the day I graduated last year. At least the tulips are much improved.
It's harder than it seems and easier at the same time. It's hard to remember to keep in touch these days, but it's not as hard to track people down and a line to them. Spring makes me nostalgic. Undoubtedly 70 degrees is incomparable to the summers in the Philippines, but the heat, the thaw, the sun makes me think of home - of things I'd done in days like these or people I'd been with. Some days there are moments that bring me way back to my Miriam days - green knolls, ceiling fans, makopa trees. Some days I'm brought back to IS, middle school, Mr. Errington's room and S.A.V.E. meetings after school. Or sitting on the corridors waiting by the wall for homeroom to start, across from the seventh grader who had hair like Pocahontas.
Where are all those people now?
I have 10 potted plants: aloe, palm, purple shamrock, cactus, african violets, two types of foliage and two types of vine, not to mention a dormant cyclamen. Aside from the aloe, violets and cyclamen, I've had these plants for two years now. Most of them I got as a bulb from a lady I work with, or cuts from places I've worked at. Two years ago I had beakers and water bottles full of liquid fertilizer stuffed with plants. Everyday I would wait for them to grow new roots; and if I had a free Saturday I would go to Dickson's, buy a new pot and get my hands dirty moving them to a new home.
They're all flourishing quite nicely and now that spring is upon us, I even have a few flowers to greet me every morning.
There are few pleasures that can compare to watching things grow: looking back at how these plants were when I first got them to how they are now. I used to have to arrange the leaves so that the pot didn't look so empty, but now they are all full and soon in need of repotting.
In between all of that there's also the experience of watching them go to sleep, slowly drying up and losing its leaves, until there's nothing.
I wish I had the heart of a gardener, in all the things that I do.
I took down the tree below after two and a half months. Our living room looks like it did before. February break is winding down and it will be back to school very soon. I miss my kids.