April 12th

Every moment is a gem. I'm trying to keep that in perspective as my experience wanes and a new beginning in the States inches closer. This semester, in particular, has been light. My days haven't been molded by routine as they were last semester, especially as the weather blooms and the students become more relaxed. One week of mid-terms actually turned into two to three weeks of classes sans students, for example.

At this point, I'm not complaining. I'm enjoying an easier atmosphere, quite different from what I've been accustomed to. This feeling could also be the result of alternate teaching hours. I have busy days juxtaposed with simple days, and I have only one three-hour class this semester as opposed to the three I had last semester. Class prep time has therefore diminished. As the weather turns, I've also found more impetus and ability to run, and it's become somewhat of a ritual.

I wake up, throw on shorts, wind-pants, and a t-shirt, and make my way across town, to where there's a soccer stadium towards the top of a steep hill, in the center of a pleasant middle-class neighborhood. The stadium has a track enclosing the soccer field, and that's where I run. The circular path ain't much fun. I see the same scenery every two minutes, but it's a peaceful area frequented by few. I end the workout with pull-ups and chin-ups on a nearby stationary structure, moreso to spend a few extra moments in the sun than anything else, before trudging back home passed the simit vendor with the winter cap and the hoarse voice.

I do this often, and my legs are tired of it. Today I took a day off, and not because my legs were sore, but because it was cold. The weather here remains a mystery. It teases and taunts with warmth and sun before raining down cold and dark. Last Saturday, for example, I was pelted with hail.

This prolonged hiatus from busyness, caffeine-addiction, and late night paper-writing has done me good. I feel rested, revived, and I'll hopefully carry this on for awhile in the States. I wonder what it is about US culture that turns us into zombies? We're busy, yea, but we're also obsessed with being busy. It's totally an image thing. Being miserable validates us. We never take time to ponder the peculiarities of every-day life. I like to ponder the way cigarette smoke seductively and carelessly dances about, tumbling into itself. I spent a few minutes today wondering why my mouth felt chalky after eating spinach. I hope this childlike fascination with things, which has re-emerged in Turkey, doesn't leave anytime soon.

I'll write again soon, maybe.