Back in the "Bul" - and The Decision to Leave

Yes, that is what expats refer to Istanbul as... "the Bul".  I think it's kind of silly given the thousands of years of history and the dignity that this city has earned over time... but there it is... all of the world reduced to three silly letters...bul.  The nickname expats cutely assigned.  When I moved here, one of my loved ones coined the phrase.... "Conniestantinople"... just as clever and just as trite.  Istanbul.  She has her own singular reputation, and in spite of mans' desire to reduce the city to a manageable mouthful...... she is too big, too incredibly deep to ever be managed or described by words.  No.  Istanbul has to be experienced, felt, lived for one to even begin understanding this place, that for all intents and purposes, could be a country unto itself.  As a matter of fact, given the current political situation in Turkey, it might be a great solution to turn Istanbul into a city state where we can all live in peace according to our hearts.

Even now...  I realize that while I have referred to this place in the feminine... "she"....but Istanbul sort of defies gender.  Someone visiting commented that they saw mostly men in the restaurants, on the streets, on the buses and trams and in the metro.  That is true.  Men do dominate the streets, the cafes and the businesses, but the women dominate the scene.  In their high heels and high fashion and high brows... they own the air.  Even the bescarved ones garner their share of the cultural phenomenon that is Istanbul.  I watched out of the corner of my eye today, as a young couple, she in full cover garb and he in regular street clothes, boarded the tram. He let her take the last seat and stood talking to her, the two of them laughing at some private joke and several times he lovingly stroked the part of her cheek peeking out from the scarf, tilted her head up gently and treated her with the sweetest deference. Love and affection passing between them. I have seen this often in Istanbul, the demonstration of love and
understanding between couples.  Even older couples often walk the streets gently clinging to one another.

So then Istanbul is gender-less, timeless, sometimes senseless, and often rudderless, but definitely not loveless.  I have spent the past two years exploring the tourist sites, the wonders, the scenery, the famous and much written about.  I have photographed the Hagia Sophia and snapped shots of the Sulyman Mosque.  I have photographed hans and hammams and souks and the spice bazaar.  The places that one comes to see... I have visited.   But now... as I begin to make my way away from this city, this romantic, crazy, beautiful, deep,. frenetic, historic setting... I feel a pang of bittersweet longing.  Longing to stay.  Longing to remain a part of the culture and being and day to day interactions of this place.  As I walk to "my" waterfront neighborhood.... Ortakoy... I notice things I have never been aware of before.  The color of a door.  A side street that features an alley pet store.  A new vegetable stand.  The men sitting on low benches sipping tea.  The old ladies greeting one another with kisses and laughter, and I am sad.  Sad to be leaving ... Istanbul.

I returned from my centering sojourn in Greece, recommitted to escaping the injustice I felt I had been done at my place of work in Istanbul.  I cast my crumbs upon the waters and... suddenly... another country was interested in having me come live and work for them.  Deciding was a difficult process with much ambiguity.  Would I be hired, would I have an offer before contracts came out, was this the place GOD wanted me to go, would I be happy there?  So many questions.  So many concerns.  In the end I prayed for the door that I was to walk through to be opened.  On April 17th... I was offered a position that I wanted in Casablanca Morocco.  I took the weekend for more prayer and introspection and accepted the job on the following Tuesday.  No panic this time.  Just a sense that I was headed where I needed to be.

Now here I am... a few months later.... one bag packed and one month left to savor Turkey and Istanbul and Ortakoy.  I continue to take pictures on the streets of this city.  Scenes that interest me and shots that I think capture my experience in this dreamworld so far away from the familiar.  I know that Morocco will be lovely and exciting and the journey of discovery there will be amazing.  But nothing will ever compare to "The Bul...".

                                                             
    And now... comes the time to finally finish this
current blog entry.  The month has passed quickly and I am here on the eve just before departing this          
magnificent city.  I am aggrieved to leave this place.

I wanted to call Istanbul home for a longer period of  time, but this was not to be.  So I am leaving.  My bags are almost all packed.  My little apartment has been stripped bare of all that made it mine.  I am once again traveling into the unknown.  I have celebrated, feasted, drank and cried with many friends.  I have been prayed for at my church.  I have kissed many cheeks and said many goodbyes and now it is time to close out this chapter in my life.

I leave with a few favorite shots of this city... this place that I was graced enough to inhabit for a short period of time.

I will miss the smell of chestnuts roasting on Istiklal, and the quiet of Sunday morning coffee before the city wakes.  I will miss the sounds gulls crying and the horns honking and the ferry engines running.  I will miss the shopkeepers hawking their wares, and the plaintive echo of the hazan.  And...I will miss the people.  Oh how I will miss the people.



Farewell Istanbul.........

                                                                                                                                                                                                                             Teşekkür ederim!

Leaving Greece

I did a bit of shopping and exploring of the fairly nondescript waterfront of Alexanderoupolis after visiting the museum.  I was hungry and in the mood for a glass of wine.  There were plenty of cafes lining the shoreline but they were filled with groups of friends and couples.  I am usually quite brave and nonplussed by entering a packed establishment... but I wasn't in the mood for gaiety and Greek noise.  I just wanted a quiet glass of wine and a little snack to tide me over to dinner.  I also wanted to find the recommended restaurant that I planned on dining at that same evening.  I didn't find the restaurant, and I didn't find a spot that was quiet. .  That spoke well for the Alexanderoupolis social scene, but it didn't do much for me.  I did find the small lighthouse that the area is famous for.  Not much to look at for a lighthouse, but it was at least something to be replicated in all manner of for sale kitsch.

I walked the road that curved back to the main thoroughfare heading to the hotel. It was slightly warmer, but there was a lingering chill in the air.  Still, the sun was shining and I felt at peace.  Just about a half kilometer form the hotel, I spotted a full parking lot and guessed that the large store that seemed quite busy was probably a Greek Yokes... (Yokes is very popular grocer back in the Inland Northwest).  Indeed as I entered I discovered a plethora of never before seen food products and wow... was there a nice display of cheese... and fresh bread...a lovely selection of wine, and of course chocolate.  SCORE.  The store was full of families and couples and grannies shopping hurriedly  I later discovered that in this town, the stores are closed early on Saturday, and that Sunday is a NON-shopping day.  Just like it used to be when I was a child.

My bill came to less than 20 euro for bread, a nice bottle of good wine, some cheese, and a couple gifts to take back to Istanbul for friends.  The Greek economy is indeed in trouble... and the prices at the grocery store reflect a much lower cost of living... at least for food.

Back at the hotel, I had some of the wine, which was very good, and snacked on bread and cheese before going for an evening swim and sauna.  I thought about staying at the hotel for dinner, but a friend of mine had urged me to get out and break some plates.  Besides, the hotel restaurant was full with a Turkish gathering for a wedding celebration. I took a taxi to town and found a recommended seafood restaurant.  It wasn't full.  There were some interesting tables, a Turkish couple with their spoiled child, a couple cooing at each other in the corner, and a large group of men who were obviously settling in for a long evening of eating and drinking.  I didn't have company, but I had a dinner show, so I sat back, ordered some wine, and chose an appetizer from the menu... lightly battered and pan friend eggplant.  The plan was to order some fish after the appetizer.  Hah!  The platter that arrived at my table was gigantic.
 Each little thin slice of eggplant was light and crisp, perfect for dipping in the tzatiki sauce that came with it.  I ate the whole plate.  That was it.  No fish for me, I was stuffed.  I left, the table of men still drinking and laughing and eating, and the friendly waiter called a taxi for me back to the hotel.

When I arrived, I thought I would have a quiet drink in the bar.  I had been told there would be some nice live piano.  Well the piano was an electric keyboard, and the place was still packed with Turkish families and their WILD children.  Seriously...... some of the kids were doing cartwheels and somersaults in the lounge. The music was bad, the noise was loud, and I ended up sitting on the balcony of my room, listening to the Aegean slap quietly against the rocks before tumbling into my bed.

Sunday morning found me back at the spa for one more go in the gym, pool and sauna.  It was a perfect way to end my restorative weekend.  I packed and checked out and walked back into town.  The bus was due to pick up at the waterfront.  I arrived about an hour and a half before departure time.  The sun was shining but the wind was bitter.  I huddled there in the corner of a deserted building, occasionally snapping pictures of things that interested me....the ferry docks...

                        a rusty old bike,

                                  the Greek flag fluttering in the wind against a cold metal gray sky,

                       and me.... wrapped in black and sheltered from the cold.



The bus eventually arrived, and I boarded along with the other people waiting anxiously to make their way back to Istanbul.  The ride was uneventful, as goings home often are.  We did pass the long long line of trucks waiting at the boarder.  To pass the time, I began to count... as I had seen the same scene in Bulgaria... trucks lined up en masse making their way from one country to another... passing through the grueling and time wasting checkpoints in order to deliver goods to people of many nations.  What a strange world we have fashioned for ourselves.

                                                                 I counted 432 trucks.

Arriving at a decent hour in the evening, I taxied home easily.  My weekend had been refreshing, relaxing and much needed.  I hadn't made a single final decision.  I still wasn't sure what my future held in terms of work.  I had a few more options, and a few more prayers, and I knew in the end, it would work out someway somehow.  I loved Turkey, so if I needed to stay one more year before moving on, at least I now knew that I could do that.  There didn't seem to be too many other options on the horizon so I may as well make do with what I had.  The weekend in Greece had accomplished what I had planned it for in the end.

The trip to the ecclesiastical museum had bolstered my assurance in ongoing grace and watch care.  GOD watches over me still.  I don't know why.... I don't know how.... but grace is... has always been... an ongoing Reality for me.  Wherever I am meant to be.... I will be.


Post Script:  I have finished this short bit of writing several months after the initial trip to Alexanderoupolis.  I can say now... that truly...an answer was on the way.  I didn't know it then... as is usually the case in any quandary, but I know now that there will be a decision... and it will lead me into new territory.  In the meantime... I am behind on a few adventures that I need to tell you about.  Much time will pass (in worldly terms) before I have my answer... but it will come.  Yours will too.

Blessings and Grace to you dear reader.

The Decision Postponed.......Another Day In Alexanderoupolis

     My first full day in Greece was not terribly exciting.  I mostly lazed about with walking and writing and resting.  I didn't go into the town on Friday.  I ended up going to the spa instead.  The Alexander Beach Hotel is a fantastic place for doing next to nothing.

The spa facility is excellent.  There is a nice pool indoors, a sauna, steam room, gym and they offer full services, massages, pedicures, manicures etc. etc. etc.  If you want to spoil yourself for not too much money... I highly recommend this place.  The ladies were very kind and helpful.  So nice in fact that I booked myself a massage for Saturday afternoon.  I did a bit more walking, and ended up ordering room service for dinner.  I just didn't want to be around people.  I had done some walking, some swimming, some working out, some thinking, some writing, and I was at peace.  Sitting on the balcony as the sun went away from view...
                                                                                    I finally relaxed.  And then I slept for hours.

     The next day found me up early to snag my big fat Greek breakfast and plenty of dark black coffee.  I inquired at the front desk about what there was to see in town.  I had done some internet research, but the desk people seemed to have some nice maps and information that I was not able to glean from the web.  Indeed, they pointed out that there were several museums in town.  Given the fact that it was still quite chilly, albeit sunny, a museum sounded great.  As a matter of fact, there was an ecclesiastical museum that evidently housed quite a collection of Greek iconography and church artifacts.  That has been for me one of the most delightful aspects of my life overseas, particularly in this area of the world... the amazing history of my faith is so accessible.  Places that I can go and breathe in the echoes of believers over the centuries.  Given the breakfast I had eaten, I was eager to make the 2 km walk to town to search out this museum.  The town is not that large, I figured I would be able to find it fairly easily.  Besides, walking is a great way to get the lay of a place, and to see things that you don't normally see from a vehicle. So I set out down the road to town.

I did find more of the curious little memorials on the side of the road.  Some shabby and some a bit more ornate.  Some dark, and some with a perennial light in them. They were quite sweet and easier on the heart (at least for me) than the typical white crosses you see on the side of the roads in the US.  I rather like the idea that no one comes to tear these down.  They really would require some investment and tending.

There were skeletons of former seaside resorts... empty and broken down.  I imagined running one of these, restoring it to its former splendor and catering to the Greek and Turkish tourists that surely must flock to this place in the summer to escape the untenable heat and noise of the cities.

As I approached town, I could spot Greek churches up streets, and shoppers scurrying about in and out of shops.  Nearing the central area, I followed the map the hotel had given me, looking for a readable street sign that would give me a clue as to where the museum was.  I dropped into a coffee shop, but the girl behind the counter did not recognize what I was looking for.  I imagine between her broken English and my non-existent Greek, there was something lost in the communication.  I did finally find a nice lady on the street who noticed that I was puzzled and she asked if she could help me. She steered me down a couple of lights and told me where to turn.  Soon enough I spied a large orange colored church and what looked to be a museum next door.

I was pretty sure this was the place, though there was no signage.  I walked up the imposing steps and rang.  A nice lady who didn't speak English unlocked the door.  I was afraid that they might not be open, and when I asked her if this was the museum she said "no" and closed the door on me.  Then someone else came and opened the door again, and I asked the same question.  She had some English, and indicated by gesture that the museum I was looking for was elsewhere in the town.  I am glad I was insistent.  I did understand that she was telling me this museum was ecclesiastical and not the anthropological museum she assumed I was really looking for.  I guess people don't seek out the ecclesiastical museum much.  I stood my ground, and she went to get someone who she assumed would be able to give me better directions to the place she thought I really wanted to see.  A big bear of a man then came to the door.  He was bearded and spectacled and had a very jolly

disposition.  He also spoke perfect English.  He was rather surprised however that I really wanted to see this museum.  After confirming with me that all this building housed was artifacts and icons from the Greek Orthodox Church, was that really what I wanted to see?  He let me in through the massive doors.  The two ladies were now seated behind a desk... and ready to take my money.  I think I paid about 3 lira.  The man asked me if I would like to use his English guide book free of charge..."But you have to give it back".  Of course!  He explained that their were two floors, and eight rooms, each housing a different kind of collection.  I asked if I could take pictures and he laughed again..."Sure, but no flash, and you can't publish any of them", he grinned, as if knowing. You will not therefor be able to see a visual representation of what I found behind these doors.... but I can tell you each room moved me significantly and I left there stunned that such a place exists in this little backwater.  There were some interesting people in that little museum too.  I will share the last room with you... which was a full scale altar in wood and gold, with the bema gates slightly open to enable one to see the table where the sacraments of Christ were lain. The guide book informed me that the gate doors represented the barrier between the known and material world, and what lies beyond the alter... the spiritual and holy world of mystery.  Sometimes... on a semi sunny day in Greece... the two can be bridged.  I stayed in there for quite some time.

How To Make Decisions - HAHAHAHHAHa

There is nothing quite like a trip away from the familiar to bring a bit of clarity.  Stripped of those surroundings that we fall back on for comfort and security, it is easier to see the big picture I think.  A series of buses brought me here to the shores of the Aegean for a 3 day holiday and some time to recuperate, pray, seek wisdom and counsel, and ultimately, to make a decision about at least the next 2 1/2 years of my working life.

The old cliche' goes like this:  "If you want to make GOD laugh, tell Him your plans."  And so it goes.  I am sure there has been some chuckling going on of late, between the creator of the universe, my Lord, and whomever guards me as a holy assignment.  (my angel).

I currently find myself in a quandary, a dilemma, smack in the middle of a muddle.  I was depressed about it last week.... and angry, but thanks to prayer and intervention, I am out of that dark storm.  And oh so grateful for delivery.

I boarded first the DT2 last night at about 8:00 PM heading to Besiktas, where I boarded a slightly smaller service bus heading to the gigantic OTOGAR where I boarded a third bus, a double decker and largest of all, bound for Greece.  What an interesting cast of characters choose to ride a red eye bus from Istnabul  to Thessaloniki and points in between.  Large gravelly voiced women, pierced youth, covered ladies, hip young Turks, groups of smoking Greek men, a be-furred haughty stylish woman with heeled boots and chic shopping bags from Istanbul's finest shops, an insane driver, and me.  How would one of these travelers describe me... a seemingly confused yabangi (Turkish term for "foreigner" used most often disparagingly) knowing not where she is headed, but sitting in the best seat on the bus.  I booked in person with a nice Turkish agent who smiled kindly at my broken Turkish and gave me seat #1, up top, in the front, near the stairs to exit.

The weather had turned unseasonably cold the day before.  Bitter cold.  Not good news for border crossings.  Collect the passports.  Return the passports.   Get off the bus, stand in line outside having your paperwork checked and stamped.  Get on the bus.  Drive 300 meters, get off the bus, repeat.  Drive 200 meters to the duty free shop.  Get off the bus again, because who can pass up the opportunity to purchase cheap alcohol and cigarettes?  Get on the bus again.  Sleep.  And then... at just about 4 AM I wake to the announcement that we have arrived in "Dedeagac"... the Turkish name for Alexanderoupolis.  I grab a taxi and head straight to the Alexander Beach Hotel... the same place I had planned on staying in on my ill fated October trip that ended up being not so ill fated after all.  (Refer back to Bulagria blog).  The room has a beachfront balcony, though I cannot see it yet as first light has not dawned, but there is a bottle of Greek wine and a fruit plate waiting for me, compliments of the hotel.  Now I know this may seem odd, but I have a glass of wine at 4:30 AM to help me fall asleep for at least a bit before I begin my Greek respite.

I wake up about five hours later, a bit groggy, but anxious to start my day.  I pray through my morning devotions.  GOD knows I am here to make some decisions, and I need all the help I can get.  The only message I can discern is to chill.  He is in charge and has the next step all worked out.  Well ok.  I still check my e-mail... repeatedly, to see if anyone has mailed me with an offer to interview.  In a pique of anger and sorrow, I had applied to a school elsewhere.  One I had wanted to work for, but had planned on finishing 2 more years with my current school before trying to move on.  My situation seemed to be pushing me earlier than I had planned and that same school had a plum opening.  One I would be very good at.  Alas... no communication from them.  Time for breakfast.... which is stunningly, fat Greek, HUGE!  No kidding... 2 long banks of eggs, bread, cakes, fruit, cereal, pastries, jams, cheese, meats, on and on and on.  In addition to this, there was a hot station where you could order omelets, crepes, and espressos.  My oh my.

After this repast, which includes REAL FILTERED COFFEE, I head back to my room to just sit on the balcony and stare at the Aegean which in spite of being gray on this overcast day...is quite peaceful and begs me to come explore its shores.

It is a slightly blustery day, and the chill is still in the air, so I dress warmly and head out to explore and walk the beach as far as I am interested. The area in front of the hotel is rocky, but the water is pristine and clear and I so wish I were able to swim it now, but I shall have to return when heat of the Mediterranean begins to become unbearable in Istanbul.

Beach walks are always good for contemplation and decision making.  There is just something about the waves slapping up against rock, breaking it down into smaller parts, wearing and working chunks into stone and pebble and eventually sand.  That process is such a metaphor to the ego. The water is blue, in spite of gray sky, and the rocks and pebbles are stunningly beautiful.  I love beach rocks and beach glass.  As I silently explore my tiny bit of Alexanderouplolis shoreline, the only sound accompanying me is wind whipping about, the slap slap slap of water, and the occasional gull cry.

 

Though the sun is not shining, and there is a decided chill in the air, I am at peace here.  I do not hear answers thundering through my mind.  There are no huge revelations that occur to me.  GOD does not shout down from the heavens..."Do this...." or "Do that..."     no.... I hear nothing. But I do spy a curious looking monument on a cliff near this beach... it is painted the typical whitewashed color with blue trim, and has been there quite a while obviously.  As I snap a picture of it, I almost feel that I have violated some private thing by taking a picture of it.  Some kind of grief.  And as I look closer, I see that beyond the tiny door covering the main housing, there is a candle.  Of course.  This is the Greek version of a cross on the side of the road (beach).  This is where someone comes to pray for, light a candle for... a beloved that has moved on to another place.  It occurs to me how
fleeting life is.  In some ways... my decisions are inconsequential... yet... in others... they are of eternal consequence.

Where will my next steps take me?  Where are they meant to take me?  I suppose for some, there is no question of "meant".  No thought of a divine order to the universe where decisions and movement of one's feet impact anything at all.  But I am not one of those.  I am certain that all of our decisions have purpose and meaning.  Still... perhaps the only answer to my quandary is to put one foot after the other in a forward directions and MOVE towards whatever is next.  Perhaps the answer falls within the realm of surrender. Perhaps.

                         

    How will I order these bits of my puzzle ?

The Newest Lesson... More Endings

I have been looking for inspiration for a new post ever since NYE.  I considered covering the cats of Istanbul... but I don't have quite enough examples yet.  I could (and most likely will) wait and write about my next travel adventures... which should if all goes well, include Greece...FINALLY.

. and Troy/Gallipoli.  But Greece is a week away, and Galipolli is even further.  So I seemed unable to come up with any kind of remotely interesting inspiration, until yesterday.

Welcome to my life... come on in and watch for a few days.  Let me know what you think.  Really... because my ability to be objective about this current situation has long since flown out the window, down the street, and over the mountain on the wings of emotion.

The Deputy Principal (who shall forthwith be known as "DP") of the school I work for has been a good friend of mine for some time.  I have written about him before.  He has hosted me in Bulgaria, introduced me to GOOD swing dancing, and insisted on a Christmas dinner prepared by the Culinary Institute of Istanbul. He is highly educated, experienced, cultured, intelligent, curious, and kind to me.  Anyway, through a series of unexpected and surprising events, my friend was called away from his DP position to employment with the same company but in a higher education slot much more suited to his skills.  Good news for him!  Bad news for the primary school as he was the caretaker of many things small yet critical.  Whoever would be able to take on these necessary tasks?  Indeed.

I know that my friend worked hard to convince administration that I was the perfect person for the job.  Remember, this man is my friend, but he is also well acquainted with me and knows my capabilities.  They agreed.  The change came way sooner than expected and suddenly I found myself moving from a lowly counselor's office to a corner office with a nice desk, and a magnificent view.  Tea, breakfast, coffee and an occasional afternoon snack appeared magically at my fingertips.  I became the heir apparent to the DP position.  "Interim DP".  Not a terribly difficult job.  But I was still doing my counseling job as well.  Yes indeed, two , two , two jobs for one.   With a nominal stipend thrown in for comfort.  But it has never been about money for me.  Always it has been about work that I enjoy and which is meaningful.  I learned as I went.  The detailed paper shuffling, accounting, public relations, culture setting, don't fail the principal, kind of work.  I loved it.  I had fun.  It was new, it required me to always be on my toes, and I was good at it.
It fit.

The school however, had decided that though I had agreed to take the job on for the next 6 months, it would post the position for the upcoming school year.  Hmmmm.  That alone should have been a clue, but I am often too trusting and assuming.  I was told I would have to apply for the position, and interview.  I sent them my CV (though they already had it on file) my Educational Leadership Platform, and a cover letter explaining why I felt I would be a good fit for the job.  I actually interviewed with the school Assistant GM and my principal on the same day I started working in official capacity as the "interim deputy principal".  The interview went well, the principal even commented to me that he felt I did very well.  Alas, some deeper thing was at work in the minds of people who make decisions.  I still don't know who exactly that is.

That same week, these two people went away to a hiring fair for 3 working days.  I was for all intents and purposes, in charge of the school, which did not burn down or fall apart.  With many people out at fairs, there was a lot of juggling to do, but I am good at making puzzle pieces fit together.  I was thanked for the great job I did while they were away.

The following Tuesday I was called into the head's office.  I knew that the meeting was for the purpose of letting me know about the job.  Earlier that day, I had passed her in the school hallways, but instead of her usual friendly smile... she frowned at me.  Bad omen.

Upon arriving at her office, I could see she was texting on her cell phone as her door was open.  The kind secretary had me take a seat, which was a tiny little chair ... no kidding, it's a chair from the kindergarten classroom.... I waited, uncomfortably and was told it was the "naughty chair".  ???  What?  Five minutes later the principal arrives and walks into the room.  I am now allowed to come in and have a seat with them.  He opens the conversation by telling me they have called me in to "get the pain over with".  Honestly.  This is how I am informed that they have (had?) chosen someone that the head and secondary principal "bonded with" in Australia hiring fair.  This person has 8 years experience as a dp.  She will be taking over the job next fall.

Have you ever seen "Up In The Air" with George Clooney?

As soon as you accept this, you can get on with the next phase of your life.

My reaction I guess was shock.  And trying to hide the urge to cry.  In that state you don't ask questions.  I just nodded my head, thanked them, and shuffled out of the office ... in great humiliation.

I had asked my 3 best friends in Istanbul to dinner that same night, for what I thought would be a celebration.  I ended up drinking at least one bottle of wine and crying my heart out to these dear understanding souls who comforted me with wisdom and understanding and for at least two of them, the commiseration of righteous indignation.

I still don't know what hit me.  Or why.  None of it makes sense to me.  I loathe intrigue in the workplace and I know there are pieces to this particular puzzle that will forever be lost to me, because let's face it... people just aren't absolutely forthcoming.  In the meantime, I am to continue in my dual capacity as school counselor, teaching 12 classes a week and doing the duties of an "interim deputy principal."  I will work hard.  I won't shirk and I won't screw up.  But something has changed in me.  It may pass, but I don't think so.

At the end of my working life, with eight to ten years left before I can retire, this doesn't seem fair.  I don't understand, and I am not so sure that the joy I get from working will return full force.  I like to grow and constantly learn new skills and take on new challenges, but now I seem thwarted.  I also love Istanbul, and Turkey in general.  My plan was to stay.  Maybe even have some roots for a while.  I no longer know if this is possible for me.  I am in a psychological limbo... thrashing about for answers in between increasingly infrequent crying bouts.  Here is what I do know, what I am clinging to... advice from friends, nuggets of wisdom from mentors, and the everlasting Word of GOD;

• This too shall pass

• Time will heal your anger and you will go on to better things

• "Your feelings, hurt pride, anger betrayal are all feelings generated by your ego.  TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR EGO, SILENCE IT and stay in Istanbul and the school if you really like it her.  If not, you can go look for jobs, and I promjise you that you will be hired in no time."

• You are going to learn so much from this experience 

• Everything happens for a reason, this included

and lastly.....

Istanbul has challenged me, grown me, inspired me, loved me, threatened me, hurt me, and finally ... given me an experience that many in this world will never be able to drink in.  I still love the city, and the children I work with.  I love my co-workers and my friends.  

It's kind of funny... almost as if I am coming full circle back to the beginning of this blog.   When I began this journey, I titled the blog  "Endings, Beginnings and Panic...".  At one point this year, I thought perhaps I needed to change that name, but as I finish up this post, I realize that perhaps life is a series still of these stages... I have however resolved to remove the PANIC from my life.  As these days pass, I will work to calm my soul, pray every day for wisdom and the strength to continue in my job(s) with Grace, and this time, I will not panic.  I will trust. and I will rest secure in the belief that.....

"All will yet be well."
            Julian of Norwich

NEW YEARS EVE 2013

This was to have been the year of promise.  Last year about this time I said that I was committed to kissing someone I liked and who liked me at midnight 2013.  I also stipulated that it would be a male.  I posted a picture of Klimt's "Kiss".  It is 11:09 and things aren't looking too promising.  I forgot to write that the company that I preferred for NYE was to be human.  As I write, there is one dirty street cat... named "Z" sleeping on my chair... fat and fed.  I guess I will give him a kiss at midnight as the Istanbul fireworks begin.  It seems to be my only option.

It has been an interesting year for this international school counselor.  I have traveled much,

explored many new places, made some new friends, loved and taught some great kids.

I have been challenged and questioned... I have made some grave mistakes and fallen again into some old patterns.  I have loved and lost and come home to what I know best.  I have clung to my faith, and wept in my doubts.

The world however is in much disarray I fear.  Power has overshadowed freedom and peace.  Wicked rulers and dark powers freely range unchallenged.  Millions die of starvation and violence.  Children suffer.  Brothers and Sisters go without when some have so much.   Some of us are cocooned in comfort and rarely see the misery and desperation that is slowing encircling.

 Refugees are growing in numbers.  Water is diminishing in scarcity.  Our air is no longer pure.  Our food is reconstructed into something unholy in the name of commerce and we pay money for this poison.  Much of the wealthy world is anesthetized by sports and entertainment and plenty into believing "all is well".  Many are trapped by the need to produce continuously so as to maintain a lifestyle that is less that true.

All is not lost of course.

I am not a fatalist, nor a pessimist.  I am a realistic dreamer.  I know what is possible and I know that in time.. a change will come.  It will not come however without pain and struggle and great courage.

This past year... some people I know of, and too many that I know personally.... have left this plane of existence.  Died.  Passed. Here is a short list of the more notable folks:

Nelson Mandela                     Joyce Brothers                    Princess Fawzia                 Peter O'Toole
Margaret Thatcher                 Malcom Shabazz                 David Frost                        Ray Price
Chinue Achebe                      Jean Stapleton                     Tom Clancy                       Annette Funnicello   Mikhail Kalashnikov              Esther Williams                    Scott Carpenter                 Roger Ebert
George Jones                        James Gandolfini                  Lou Reed                          Hugo Chavez

This isn't even a complete or terribly international list.  But for better or worse... each left a mark.

And then there are others whose names most of my readers won't know.  Two beautiful young women who I had the privilege to teach... each within a few weeks of one another.  A good friend of the same age whom I loved very much, and with whom I shared the raising of young children.  An aunt.  A good friends' young sweet granddaughter......  A tragic list for the most part.  Not notable... but each life most remarkable.

It is ten minutes to midnight here.  The fireworks will go bursting all over this sprawling metropolis, and people will kiss and drink and dance and celebrate life.  As they have done for many years.  And we will continue until time forsakes us and every knee becomes bent in awe and wonder.

I do know and believe in  the existence of eternity, and hope, and a better life.  I also believe in living a present life full of the same...  Here is to you and yours... to 2014.

 Further on Up!  Further on In!

Fast Forward

On the road to Rila

Where was I?  Oh yes... Bulgaria.  A country I might not mind living in someday.  I was recuperating from a relationship fiasco by lighting candles in beautiful churches and drinking a lot with good friends.  Bulgaria was a whirlwind of delights.  The Christian iconography is some of the best I've had the privilege of ever viewing. It is so comforting to realize that the story of my Lord has been safe guarded over the centuries by artists who were capable of imparting truth, beauty, and the sacred without benefit of words.   I would highly recommend the crypt of the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral and a trip to the Rila Monestary.  Instead of describing either of these extremely holy and special places.... let me simply introduce you with some photos...

Two angels watch over Mary and Jesus














                                                                              Saint John


 Angel being sent by GOD

Alpha and Omega ... Rila Monastery

The Son of Love & Righteousness

                                   View of the mountains from the monastery window


Fountain at entrance to the church


Breathe.  Yes, peace.  I found much peace in Bulgaria.  It is not a perfect country, but it is beautiful and its people are lovely when you get to know them.  Which I did thanks to my dear friend John.  After spending some special time on my own, worshiping, praying, lighting candles and getting my bearings, I boarded a train for Plevin with my new found Canadian friends, Lorna and Ken.

We had been invited to spend some time in the small and somewhat remote village some distance from Plevin where I was promised a good time would be had for my birthday.  The train trip itself was marvelous with scenery that reminded me much of parts of Colorado and New Mexico.  We ate good cheese and fresh bread drowned in wonderful Bulgarian red wine.  The rest of the evening was kind of a blur with a very rainy drive to the village and more wine and eventually slumber in a second floor corner room of my own in John's lovely villa.

The next day dawned... my birthday.  I was not feeling so.... birthdayish.  But a trip into Plevin and some good old fashioned post communist Bulgarian version of alka-seltzer and I was ready (sort of) for my "surprise".  I was not disappointed!!!  John and Ken and Lorna, along with a lovely little family in the village had arranged an amazing spread of treats
and I was gifted throughout the evening with beautiful items, lovely songs, great food, more wine and a room full of real love.  I must say... it was one of the best birthdays I have ever spent... and five of the people in the room of seven were people I had only just met.  That is love.    All this time, the broken heart was mending,

 The man was still in touch via FB and wanted to get back together.  I wasn't so sure.  Strangers were treating me with more consideration than he ever had.  There were other adventures in the village over the next couple days... I got to wrangle a loose horse... and watch gypsy families ride along the road in their horse drawn carts.

I also helped feed the cats... which were not supposed to feed.

Now here is a lesson.... When my friend moved into his Bulgarian neighborhood, he was warned by a neighbor not to feed the one stray cat with a gimpy leg that kept coming into the courtyard looking for sustenance. He ignored the advice.  Soon... gimpy brought some friends and family, and before to long, my friend was supporting an entire cadre of felines who regularly stop by now for chow.  Why do we ignore the warnings?  Why do we go ahead and jump into waters that look wild and rough and maybe not exactly what will keep us safe?  I am of course alluding to the relationship that was looming back in Istanbul in a questionable state.  A relationship that
I knew was wrong in the first place.... but I had jumped in nevertheless, ignoring the warnings and the unsuitability.  Still....

My time in Bulgaria was very special.  I will go back to this beautiful place again.  Maybe I will retire there.... who knows.  As I finish this last installment of 2013, it is New Year's Eve day.  Oh, the Turkish bf...we did pick back up where we left off a few days after I returned home, but it didn't last.  It was sad, but not as sad as the first time.  I think we both knew we weren't suited for one another.  The gap between us was too wide... it was as if one day... it all dissolved.  No words.  No tears.  He left and I left and we never spoke again.  My prayers were answered and my quandary was resolved without issue.  For that I am grateful.

So... back to the end of 2013... I am alone again.  Oh I still have many friends and my faith, but in the partner sense, there is a return to that void.  I don't know what that whole affair thing was about... some people tell me it was an opportunity to learn about love and make one last relationship mistake before the real thing comes along.  I don't know.  Hope springs eternal I guess... but time is marching on and while I can say I am grateful for the few moments when I felt special as a woman, I do regret the decision to "feed the cat".  But perhaps this is a great day for regrets.... to expose them and lay them down and look at them for what they are.... then to let them go.  To whoosh them away into the past and to move forward.  I will blog tonight again.... as we slide into 2014.  Just to recap the year and to look at what dreams were fulfilled and which remain.  It's been a long recovery.  I am back though, and almost ready to look forward.

Blessings.