sekiz A sekiz B

On my way home from the center of Adana the other day, something wonderful happened. I was sitting next to a woman on the bus who was chatting with a few other women, all of whom were dressed pretty conservatively and wearing headscarves. I observed the women for a few moments becuase people watching is the best way to pass time on the bus and then went back listening to my ipod. About 15 minutes into my 35ish minute ride home one of  the women turned to me and asked if I knew my way around Turgut Ozal, the rode my bus goes on. I know it pretty well riding it almost everyday to and from my Turkish course and told her so. She asked if I knew a restaurant that is on the way back and I told her my stop was after and I would tell her where to get off. She thanked me and when the time came I pointed out where to go, she replied iyi aksamlar (good evening) as she and her friends left the bus. Though it seems like no big deal, for me it was exciting. Giving directions in a city is the equivalent of translating from one language to another, like evidence that are fluent in the place you live. When me as a yabanci (foreigner) was able to give directions to a person from Adana it was proof that I am living in a place that at least in some ways I can call home.

 From living in Barcelona and Badalona I discovered what a joy it is to learn your way around a new city. Some of my most memorable days were wandering around Gracia or Barrio Gotico on spring days and discovering new cafes and shops. Adana is admittedly very different than Barcelona but I have enjoyed learning my way around this city. There have of course been some minor missteps, but that is half the fun of figuring it out. Once Rebecca and I decided to take a break from our normal 8A green bus and took a dolmuş, a sort of small bus, and ended up on an unfamiliar street. It didn't take us long to find our way to the right bus but our mini-adventure was exhilarating. We realized that we had finally made it to that point in Turkish that if we were lost or needed help with something we could ask for it.

Even on San Juan I enjoy giving directions, and can remember clearly the times in Barcelona I was asked where to go.  Part of why its seems like a such a big deal to me is probably because I grew up in a place so small that I rarely had to ask for directions and when I did they were given in reference to places like 'the Jangard's house' or 'the rock.' Here, I am not really asked for directions, most likely because my hair color tends to attract more questions on where I come from rather than where to go. So when mistaken for somebody that looks like they actually might be from here or know where to go, I soak it in.

There are many definitions of when and how you call a place home. In some respects I feel that I have never been able to call a place home like I have San Juan, but I would also claim to feel at home in my 5th floor apartment in Adana, Turkey. Giving directions, especially to a place I pass everyday, is no claim to being a local, or even knowing my way around the city but it does feel pretty good to feel like I am getting a handle on my surroundings. After seven months one would hope so.