store bought simit

let me begin by saying store bought simit probably doesnt exist. why would it when theres a simit stand outside, where fresh warm circles of bread golden lies to await your coming.

let me also begin by saying if you are not an exchange student here you may have no idea what terms such as 'simit' truly are, and therefore i discourage you from reading for fear of confusion. otherwise, if you are interested, read on at one's will.

my small apartment is three floors up from the busy dirty streets of this land. most streets look quite similar. there are men and women who walk the streets and throw their garbage upon them, probably not thinking of the other men and women that might someday walk there aswell. cars are many, and they drive loudly. they often honk their horns in petulant ways, impatient and stressed. those are the emotions the streets embody...if they had bodies. eventually, quite some time after arrival, thses sounds no longer distress, but become apart of daily life.

calm, quiet, chill. all of us are convinced that places like these are hard to find, but once found, are easy to stumble upon again.

bazaars are hectic peices of street-land that are crowded, your senses bombarded with wafts of every smell imaginable. between sun-lit fish or fig plants or olives, the smells are poignant and varied. there are many people yelling, and in most cases, the only quiet found in such a place is within your own mind, if ones mind is quiet.

the most comforting and heart-breakingly beatiful sound in the world is ezan, and my heart will not rest again until i hear it before bed once more. most likely, i will record such a song and carry it back to my home to listen to frequently. along with my exchange friends voices. they too, are extremely calming.

spil'dag is the most beautiful mountain i have ever seen, and its majesty will be missed until i put my foot on this not-so-foreign ground once more.

my favourite memories will always be with the other travellers, my friends. they have enriched my life with various cultures and ideas and personalities, and yet we all mould together to become on amazing district. the family i will always have throughout the world. these memories generally include simple things, like lying on the grass listening to music and talking on the kordon by the aegean sea with izzakate and jorgan. or phillips weird and incredibly unpredicted/hilarious quotes, including woo-tang and 'that would be one of those bad ideas.' i will surely miss the duo known as clannah. i will miss the crazy sensual funk dancing of the jam-es, and his cheshire smile that brightens days (did you know his sister went to thailand?). and my heart is saddened by the upcoming departure from abi.

this country in all its marvels, the beauty and the hideous broken down cities i wouldnt mind living in. the mountains and the thousand year old rocks. i will miss the rocks.

i will also miss all of the animals that have had an impact on my life, such as 'no-tail', the black tail-less cat i often see by my apartment. or 'miranda-cat', from bergama. or the puppy which joined us on our tour of truva, whose name fails me.

and while the man outside my window keeps yelling 'destiny', the cars zoom by and the vespas rumble on, the children play loudly and the mesir pazzar thunders, and the festival flags blow in the wind, and the sun is hid behind a blanket of soft clouds, and my clean-freak host sister vaccums dust that is not there, and the olives and cheese and simit from the stand outside is put away from kahvalti, and my skinny and small host father does aerobics in the livingroom and i stiffle my giggles, and turkish folk music filters through the windows, and the sound of terlik flopping against the cold floor, i sit here, writing this blog for exchange students, my friends, to read and understand and relate and know.

'Ne mutlu türküm diyene'- Mustafa Kemal Atatürk