Cultural immersion I am growing into my life as a young man, becoming wise to the ways of the world. Here and now I have a fresh new perspective on everything. At least that is how I have been thinking about it… Life and leisure is conducted in a different manner here, no two ways about it. Meals can drag on for hours, alcohol and pork are rare or non-existent. That is expect at our local english run haunt. A significant amount of time spent on the weekends has been spent walking the ruins of roman cities. An enormity of the architecture, it’s grandeur and scale puts you in your place, even 2,000 years later. For the most part I have had the right mix of exotic and enjoyment. Occasionally awkward mix ups occur and even these can be serendipitous, for example getting chai instead of the check at a restaurant. Or maybe finding the squat toilets more comfortable than expected. Never before in my life have I had a conversation, without a spoken word, only the universal language of gesticulation. Learning a few turkish words has gone along way to maintaining a polite presence, and even without those the hospitality I have received has been spectacular. I came to this foreign culture as a virtual alien but was received as a brother and friend. The seatbelt free rollercoaster rides along twisting roads hugging cliffs don’t bother me anymore. The random bites of ihavenoideawhatthis usually taste pretty good! But all this being said I have found I do not have the making of an ex-pat in my heart. I love the work I am doing, and the feeling of being is fun, but I miss the things that make home home. I want to do some digging in my own backyard. There is an insurmountable distance I cant help but feeling between myself and occupants of our little byzantine town. I can’t imagine myself away from the US for months at a time later in life. So I will begin the hunt for a dig nearer to home.
