Neden gittim Istanbul'dan?

If you'll recall, last episode ended with our hero, Aaron, perched precariously on the edge of Europe, weaving his way throughout the former USSR, preparing to chart out the nuclear wastelands of Oleksy Koslov’s former home, The Ukraine, and to make his final journey back to Istanbul olde style, by crossing the Black Sea by boat (read: dirty, stinky, prostitute-ridden freighter). Did he succeed? Or was he trapped forever behind a paper curtain of visa problems? Find out in our latest installment of the ongoing Stumble!

There I was, my friends, sitting in downtown Moscow (which is only close to the most depressing place on Earth), taking it all in – Red Square, St. Basil’s Cathedral, Gorky Park, and the ubiquitous Makgovalds (10 points if you can guess what that is – but the Americans have the advantage), and merrily passing the vodka bottle around every chance I got. Yet, all the wonder, excitement, and and passion was... strangely absent. The air was positively NOT crackling with possibility. Why, you ask? Truth is, I don’t rightly know.

Yeah, there were adventures (I bribed my first Russian police officer!), and there were new experiences (slept like a dirty animal on the cheap train to Moscow – whoever heard of 4th class???), and there were cool people (oh, Roger, you bipolar little Gary Coleman, you), but the majority of my days were being spent drinking coffee in the hostel and watching the hours tick by.

So, what happened? How did I deal with my newly-acquired ennui? My friends, I did what any self-respecting backpacker would do. I packed my shit and left. It involved nearly 72 hours straight on trains of every make, model, and mold (especially in the toilets) possible, but I zoomed out of Russia, bounced across The Ukraine, made a quick detour due to thunderstorms brewing on the Black Sea, slipped around Moldova (visa problems), and shot straight down from L’vov to Istanbul, with a brief, harrowing stay in the sketch capital of the world (and Romania), Bucharest.

What does this mean for your far-flung friend? Will he pack it all in and return to America with his tail between his legs? Assuredly not, ye creatures of little faith. I’m no less enthusiastic about seeing the world, and certainly no more eager to do it by package tour, but traveling alone just doesn’t cut it like it used to. Traipsing around when you’re fresh faced and naive is one thing, but when you’re plodding across Red Square, thinking, “Gee, I sure wish I could just order a pizza and kick back with my girfriend tonight,” you might start to think about reevaluating your ideas about travel...

Anyhow, like a Republican running from a well-informed populace, I shot back to Istanbul quick-like. Oh, how uncharacteristically happy I was when I asked our conductor, “Turk misiniz?” and he replied, “evet!” Oh, to see the Bosphorous again! How was it that I had spent my last year singing Neden Geldim Istanbul’a and was now bouncing up and down on the ferryboat as I prepared to return to ancient Chalcedon? Ok, ok... I’m sure it had a lot to do with people who were waiting there for me, but those predictably Turkish faces which used to inspire me with such ire now positively delighted my sensibilities! (That has since disappeared, by the way)

So, having returned to Istanbul, I spent 2 full weeks lounging around, drinking coffee, and being... bored. Ack! What was going on? How had that bloody emotion followed me across an entire continent? Sure, this time I was bored with my friends around, but the lethargy was only growing.

Fortunately, after the longest two weeks of my life, I started my new job at Isik University, which kept me busy all day... Busy drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and staring at the ground, waiting for the bus to come. Every morning, I had to jump on the bus at 7:00 AM and commute for 1 ½ hours, all the way anticipating 7 ½ hours of NOTHING (except the odd meeting), until the bus came to pick me up at 4:30, whereupon I would be promptly dropped off 10 minutes from my house at nearly 6:00 PM. So, now I actually had to commute to be bored! Arrrgghhh!

But, my faithful audience, you can stop wringing your hands and tearing your clothes. Everything has settled into place now. After a solid month of wall-staring on the bench outside the EFL building (I didn’t even have an office), I am now comfortably situated, reasonably occupied, exceedingly satisfied, and inordinately happy. After a month of Thomas and I annoying my girlfriend and all her flatmates with our prolonged presence, we now inhabit a moderately fashionable place near the seaside, containing 3 bedrooms, 2 balconies, 1 hot water heater, and very little chance of an electrical fire (though the lights do flicker, Allah korusun!)

And now, ye faithful souls who have bared the horrors contained within this epistle, I fear I must take my leave of you and return to the workaday world! Finally! For those of you who might ever be stricken by the urge to play the PTT (Turkish Postal Service) lottery, I shall forward along my address:

6/10 Şifa Sk.

Caferağa, Kadıköy

İstanbul, Türkiye

Hope you’re all getting happier as you’re getting older! Long days and pleasant nights!