Kolay gelsin, Türkiye.

Three days ago, Skylar and I spent the evening with Gülşah and Alp in Kadıköy. When we finally said goodbye at the docks, Gülşah hugged us both tightly, then looked at us and so genuinely said, "You are my friends." That was my first wave of emotion about leaving Turkey.

That night, we took our last ferry ride of the trip.

Yesterday, we had our last lunch with Harun and Mehmet. Harun looked honestly sad when we left. We tried to catch them (and our fruit guys) this morning, but even they aren't awake and working on Sunday mornings. So that was goodbye to the Ortaköy Mantı Evi. 

Last night, we started saying goodbye to those who were leaving in the middle of the night. Some, I'll see in Chicago within the next two weeks; some when I visit over Fourth of July weekend; and some in the fall. Waking up to an empty room with all my belongings neatly packed felt strange, but it still hadn't quite hit me that I was leaving. I got my last zeytinli açma with Skylar, my last börek, and my last cup of vending machine çay, sitting and chatting with Megan until it was time to call a cab.

Saying goodbye to Megan hit me simultaneously in the gut and the sinuses. That was my second real wave of emotion about leaving Turkey--and, more importantly, the people I will forever associate with Istanbul.

After several sleepy hours at the airport, I finally find myself sitting on a plane, waiting to take off for New York. I'm surrounded by American accents for the first time in months, and it's now sinking in that I'm leaving this pocket of the world that has graciously offered me a home for almost ten weeks.

I'm feeling everything, all at once: a deep, longing sadness that I'm leaving, bursts of excitement and joy at the thought of being back in Chicago in just a couple of days, and a warm sense of pride knowing just how much I've accomplished and just how far I've come since I first got off at Atatürk airport, groggy and feverish. 

If I regret anything from this trip, it's that I didn't write as often as I had wanted or intended to. I want to blame the incompetence of Turkish Internet for that, but honestly, I fell into bed most nights just ready to pass out. And that's not something I can really even regret.

As Skylar said, we did Turkey right. Really, really right.

And now, we're about to take off. One last time, Turkey, thank you and goodbye. Inşallah, Görüşürüz. 

Hot Air Balloon

5:40 am, and still sitting in the waiting area at Ürgüp Balloons. The guy at Shoestring who checked us in on Thursday night--the guy who generally gives me the creeps--walked into the dorm area at 4:15 am and started waking up those of us who were doing the balloon ride, telling us to hurry up and get dressed.

First of all, there had to be some kind of miscommunication, because we were told we had to be ready to go by 5 am latest. I'm way too sour in the mornings if I'm rudely awoken and rushed to get ready. Especially by a stranger.

Secondly, it was raining when we left, and it's still at least misting now. The sky is more or less a blanket of gray that has gradually gotten brighter since we got here, to the point where I'm pretty sure the sun is good and up now. Even if we get into the air at this point, I'm not sure if we'll be able to see anything.

12 minutes until they call it, I think.

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They called it. Going back to bed. Sigh.