A Turkish Homestay: Living in Van

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be.”

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It was 2C but it felt a whole lot colder as we began to climb yet another small hill. We were soaked, absolutely soaked, and the chilly wind and pouring rain wasn’t helping one bit. We knew we had seventy kilometers to go until the largest city yet, Van, and since we knew we couldn’t camp inside such a large city (and since we were desperate for a shower and electricity to charge our electronics) we were going to try and find a cheap hotel to stay in for the night. I jokingly told Kevin that if an empty truck stopped to offer us a ride at any point (because we looked so pathetic) we would accept, and sure enough, that’s basically what happened.

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Amerika, Diapers, and a Kurdish Fighters Funeral

“Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s.”

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Now that we have been in Turkey for two weeks we have begun to see some patterns. After we tell people where we are from, nearly all of them answer with “oh good!,” “I love Amerika” (with a k here in Turkey) or even, “thank you.” This is especially true in the east predominately Kurdish region where we have been cycling because the United States is currently helping the Kurds to fight off their greatest enemy… ISIS. One Kurd also thanked us (on behalf of his people to our people) for helping to secure some land and government representation for the Iraqi Kurds who are no longer as oppressed as they once were. Though politics definitely aren’t our thing, and we are often hesitate to go around shouting we are from the USA since we definitely aren’t a unanimously loved nation, it has seemed to be a pretty good thing so far over here.

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