Without the trip to Istanbul, having my parents visit and leave so quickly would have been pretty tough. But the trip gave us more time together, time during which I could relax and recharge after the week of translating and organizing everything. In Istanbul, I left the planning to my family, while I played lots of Angry Birds.
Our hotel was just about next door to the Blue Mosque (Sultanahmet Mosque), with a rooftop terrace that also allowed us to see the roof of Hagia Sophia peeking over the neighbr’s roof. Seeing these monumental buildings so close was almost like seeing the Taj Mahal in person, having to suppress a feeling of disbelief that such things are real. Hagia Sophia is 1,500 years old. That’s almost incomprehensible. It’s been a church, a mosque, and is now a museum.
Istanbul is more of a crossroads than Baku, and people there are more accustomed to foreigners. There were tourists everywhere, from huge tour buses from cruise ships to backpackers staying at hostels and everything in between. I heard French, Spanish, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, German, Turkish, and English. Store vendors would call to people to come to their shops, which quickly became tiring, but would result in some pretty funny comments. “You look like a potential carpet buyer.” And when turned down: “You break my heart. But I still love you!”
On Tuesday my family left, and I waved them off as the taxi pulled away. I was sad for them to leave of course, but had planned a long night of enjoying high speed Internet, Mexican food, and hot showers. But when I returned from dinner, the power had gone out in our block. “Only one hour,” the guy at the desk said. But it never came back. I ended up with a candle in my room that night and had to pack by crawling around on all fours to make sure I had everything that morning.
Travel was chaos throughout the trip. On the way to Istanbul, we hit a snag when it turned out the travel company my dad used booked me a week ahead of our actual flight date. We also discovered that when I booked my return flight, I had booked it for a month too late. So when I got to the Istanbul airport to fly back to Baku, I had to pay a penalty to move the flight reservation. To get back to Ismayilli, I had to take a bus from the airport to the metro station, and take the metro to a location near Peace Corps’ office and walk to the office (I decided against the two bus option). From there I had to take a city bus to the bus station, and a minibus back to Ismayilli. But now I’m back. I start up clubs again, hiking and playing baseball, and hopefully a few others in the pipeline.
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