|last bit of sparring for The Kitts in Istanbul|
|Sami Bey- looking fierce yet vulnerable|
|Shaika Spot feeling concerned, yet ultimately has faith|
Okay... I guess I forgot to post this- my last communique from living in Istanbul. Here I am now happy and healthy here in Yosemite (California) working, yet I left a bit (quite a bit) of myself back in Turkey. The journey went smoothly I must say. The Kitts are adventuring up in Southern Oregon (I miss them dearly, but can't have pets in NPS housing- especially here in Yosemite as there are lions (of the mountain kind), snakes and bears- OH MY). Okay, more on our new lives later. For now, here is my last Istanbul post (for now). Perhaps it's best that I didn't finish this post originally. It makes sense, really. It's hard to give up Turkey...
Time-Out Turkey Trotting; 6 sleeps remaining... Processing. Every day/night I float through daydreams of my time living here. Some of the funniest center on my time spent TRYING to live here.
There is always some murky story, living at the back of my brain part that holds recent memories (up to past 10 years I guess I would define that as). We (whoever I'm with at the time) relay the story to each other, and then try to zero in on a fairly accurate date. I always have to remember back to where I was living when this event was occurring in Istanbul, who we were with, what trip we were on (I know that sounds funny), and how many bags of my belongings were currently at that time being stored in L-Fezz's basement- oh, and which basement of hers were they in?
That last one. That's the one that triggers so much missing information. Often I ponder writing a short (longish) story on the travels of my belongings, from each country I have lived in, to Istanbul to lay in wait until I could catch up to them already there...and waiting...for me...
Just last night I was weaving an unspoken Tunisia-departure memory to Sa-Gra. Was it last night at our girl gang gathering for happy hour at Tarabya Otel? Or was it on a park bench in Büyükdere observing the moon with intrepid Me-Gra? Wait, that could have been Via-gra on that park bench looking at the full moon. See what I mean. The Tunisian Encounter I am referring to was back in 2010/11. Oh wait, there was a token male at our Tarabya Otel Girl Gang Gathering.
I digress. The point being that it had been a long journey-in-the-making for me to step foot, as an official resident, on the Bosporus- 10 years. Ten years with thoughts about Istanbul simmering inside my body... That is something. A long, slow build-up of a story.
I remember a moment, during my first Turkey Trot back in 2001- during the inception of this growing seed; this desire to nurture this growing seed to reach fruition. I had been traveling through Morocco and Europe, culminating in Turkey to visit La-gra- University of Hawaii, Hilo college daze time da kine.
I had this beloved pareo, or lava lava (Tahitian and Samoan for a piece of cloth you wrap around your waist or body for clothing- which are addicting to collect as they are so light, airy and beautiful- that feels wonderful, like you aren't wearing any clothing at all).
Okay, time out from coffee, bed, kitties, da kine, and blogging. Rain has stopped, allowing me to fit a Bosporus run in- precious as these days are numbered. More later.
sweet pareo how-to video