Istanbul, Finally.

My family hosted a Turkish community college student for two weeks at Christmas when I was eight. Her name was Tanya, and she had wild curly hair and wore scarves and practiced the piano for three hours every day. My sister and I loved her. One day, she made baklava from scratch - rolling out layers of homemade phyllo dough in our tiny kitchen, inviting us to help her by brushing each one with butter (not Margarine. It was the 70's, and Tanya from Turkey was horrified by it). I've been searching for that crisp, delicate right-from-the-oven sweet experience ever since, and haven't come remotely close to finding it.

And two offers for teaching positions in Istanbul have come my way - one in 2001 and one in 2008. In 2001, something about a one-room school house start-up in Norway for one year seemed less scary than two years in the Middle East for my first overseas post. And by 2008, a crazy Vietnamese school I learned about from a Craigslist ad seemed much more scary (and this time, more attractive) than a school that was on a "compound on a hill overlooking Istanbul." In both cases, I wondered about the life not chosen.

But, mostly, the reason I am heading to Turkey next week - the main reason I go anywhere anymore, really - is because of taste. In this case, that taste of homemade baklava during my fourth grade Christmas break. I am not much for sweets, but I remember it like it was one hour ago. And, since I know that eggplant is prevalent in Turkey, I figure that if they do an eggplant equivalency to Tanya's baklava in our Edmonds kitchen, then buying a ticket to Istanbul with the goal of eating eggplant every day makes more sense than many other things in this life.

Details that are not about food: I will be there from July 14- August 6. I am going by myself. My mother is nervous. I have airbnb reservations for ten days in Istanbul and am leaving the rest up in the air for the sake of spontaneity. This concludes my introduction; I hope that eggplant intrigue is enough for you~