Pizza boys to testy Turks

Checking out of my hotel in Beirut, Lebanon, I bid farewell to the staff that I'd gotten to know fairly well in the last week. We had our own set of inside jokes and cheeky humor. I was leaving a country full of insanely generous people..... and insanely gorgeous men ;) hehe. Some had ulterior motives, but most had none.

While in Lebanon, I discovered an incredibly delicious Mediterranean dish, called manouche. Cheese, spices, cucumbers, tomatoes and mint leaves on a thin flat bread. Heavenly perfection. Everyday I would stop by the little shop that made these heavenly pies, which was conveniently located 1 block from my hotel. I became an addict. I couldn't let a day pass without satisfying my taste buds with one of these melt-in-your-mouth delicacies. The best part... they only cost $1.

the making of a masterpiece

 As I traipsed down the steep hill to hail a taxi to the airport, I see my "pizza boys" waving frantically at me from the doorway. They all knew me well. We would joke around everyday when I picked up my manouche. I waved goodbye to them and dramatically blew kisses with both hands. I crossed the street for one last conversation. I had already told them I was leaving earlier that day when I had sadly bought the last manouche I would probably ever eat. They asked when I'd be back. I raised my hands and shrugged my shoulders. "Next week!?" they said. "Ok" I jokingly replied. Flirting was just as much a part of this culture as the cedar tree on their flag.

My Pizza boys. I called the one on the left "George" for George Clooney.

Later that night, I found myself in Istanbul. Back in Europe. It felt like Europe, but it also had an undeniable Middle Eastern feel to it. Exiting the airport, I discover Turkey is drastically cooler than Lebanon. And... it was raining. It's funny how the weather plays such a major role in our mood. It seemed like everyone in Turkey was in a bad mood.


I attempted to buy a token for the metro, but the instructions were written entirely in Turkish. I approached a metro worker to help me buy a ticket. He just grunted and ignored me. My backpack on, I twirled around, searching for a friendly face in the crowd. Plan B. Everyone was in a hurry and had their grumpy face on. I whimpered a little as I tried to problem solve. I didn't have the energy for this right now. I felt tears surfacing. I took a deep breath and pulled myself together. I decided to try the mean metro worker again. Approaching him with my best puppy dog eyes, nearly in tears from frustration, I pleaded with him to help me buy a token for the metro. He snarled, then finally caved in and bought the token with the money I had given him.


There was definitely a change in the air once I arrived in Turkey. I was no longer in the friendly Middle East, where everyone was so obligingly happy to help me. (YES, the Middle East is super friendly. Don't believe everything you hear). A smile could get me a long ways there. Here, not so much.


Getting off the metro at a transition hub, I searched for the correct direction to my next train with no success. I succumbed to torture again by approaching another crabby worker for assistance. He also grunted at me and sloppily pointed in a direction, without making any sort of eye contact. I smiled as big as I could at him and said "Gee, the people of Turkey are so friendly!"


I was trying to find my hostel using the GPS on my phone. It was costing me a fortune, but I wasn't interested in talking to any locals tonight, for fear I would get more negative responses. I was already on the verge of tears. My stomach was growling and my teeth were chattering from the bitter cold. Istanbul was downright freezing! Taking a break from the hostel hunt, I found a restaurant that looked to have decent food. I slung my backpack off and slumped into a chair, soaking wet from the rain. Here I sat and pouted.


I miss Jordan, I thought. The people were so nice and the weather was so much warmer than here. I started to feel sorry for myself. I felt poor, which is so ironic because I have plenty of money sitting in a bank back home. But spread out thinly over 9 months with no income makes me a poor girl. I was sick of wearing the same clothes everyday. Back home I have a huge closet full of clothes. I saw girls walking by looking all cute in their fashionable leather boots. I wanted a pair so badly. But as a backpacker, it's not feasible. First off, they're too expensive, secondly, they take up too much room in a backpack. But, but, I want to look cute too!! It's a fact that I could have a lot more possessions from the money I've spent on traveling. However, materialistic things aren't what make me happy. Traveling makes me happy. Plus, belongings encumber. I'm a snail with my home on my back. And I'm a happy snail. But right now this snail was feeling down in the dumps. I let myself sulk for a sufficient amount of time. This was the first time I had felt like this in over 2 months of traveling. I'm entitled to have these emotions. I'm only human. If you think traveling is all unicorns and lollipops, you're wrong. It's tough. Particularly when you're traveling alone. It definitely makes you stronger.


Life goes on, whether I'm on vacation or not.


Sipping my pomegranate juice, one of the Turkish workers came over to me and asked me where I was from, what my name was..... all the usual small talk. He was starting to give me hope in the Turkish people, having been the first friendly one I've met. We chatted for a while and I have to say, he cheered me up. I found it strange when he told me he liked my face (I took it as a compliment). He also told me that he would be my friend, since I didn't know anyone here. I thanked him for the kind offer and laughed to myself.


I picked myself up and brushed myself off. With a renewed spirit, I felt capable of taking on the rain and the testy Turks, at least long enough to find my hostel. So I snailed off into the rain once again...


The next day, it was still raining, so I bought a cute pink see-thru umbrella. I decided to do my sight seeing indoors. I visited the Grand Bazaar, the Blue Mosque and the Basilica Cistern. All very impressive. 

Ceiling of the Blue Mosque

Inside the Blue Mosque

Basilica Cistern

Basilica Cistern

Grand Bazaar

Later that night, I had a skip to my step as I walked through the Blue Mosque square, my pretty pink umbrella acting as my shield as the rain tapped down on it, M.I.A. "paper planes" was playing in my ear buds. I could see the minarets from the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia elegantly illuminated against the black sky. It was magical.

I'm not letting a little rain and some crabby Turks get me down today :)


When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Or in my case, when life gives you rain... find the rainbow!!