Merhaba!

The first day in Istanbul, maneuvering my way through crowded streets where people simply walked into me and continually assaulted by restaurant and shop owners, only one word came to mind: overwhelming. The first few hours in Istanbul were adrenaline-filled, stressful, and terrifying. More than once I considered running for the nearest airport and returning to the calm silence of my Midwest home. However, I quickly changed my mind.

I am absolutely in love with this city. I could list a hundred reasons already, but I’ll limit it for the sake of space and anyone reading this. First and foremost, the history is absolutely astounding. I have never been a “history person”; I am terrible with dates, names, geography, and basically everything you need to be good at to appreciate and understand history. Here, it’s like that doesn’t even matter. History is everywhere. It’s not in a textbook - it’s next to the café. It’s in every mosque, church, and museum. I got chills standing in the Ayasofya when I realized the structure surrounding me was hundreds of years older than anything I’ve ever seen. History has such a strong presence that I am constantly reminded how insignificant I am (in a good way – I think everyone needs to reminded of this on occasion). I am perpetually in awe of the Ottoman, Armenian, Greek, and dozens of other country's contributions to this culturally eclectic city.

Having learned about the beginning of the Ottoman Empire, I am desperate to learn about more. The fact that 36 sultans from the same family ruled for over 600 years says something impressive about the empire and how they ran their business. While, yes, it was an empire and not exactly the democratic and often liberal government I’m accustomed to, I can’t say that I see many flaws in the Ottoman fundamentals. The most surprising information I received was that the Islamic government did not persecute other religions. This is something most, if not all, other countries cannot say – including the United States. So, and I think you’ll find this to be a running theme throughout the next two weeks, who are we to throw stones while residing in our holier-than-thou glass house?

This newfound enlightenment led to a conversation with two Turkish men last night about genocide, stereotypes, and politics. After discussing, at length, the very definition of genocide and both mine and their countries involvement with it, we moved onto what the Turkish think of Americans. I realized only the day before that not all Turkish are conservative or even Muslim and the men, who were my age, realized very quickly that not all Americans are an ignorant, aggressive, stubborn people. Turns out they had stereotyped us as much as we, as a country, stereotype them. We were able to talk, without censor but with respect for the other’s feelings, about issues that our respective governments cannot even seem to address. Our conversation only confirmed my belief that Istanbul and the Turkish people aren’t that different from the United States and Americans. In fact, with all the hookah, waffles, and coffee, they might – dare I say it? – be a little better.