Sitting in your favourite spot in Starbucks – by the window in the comfy armchairs – you watch the passers-by as they carrying on with the lives, braving the streets of Ankara and a drizzle or two sometimes. It feels as if time has stopped, if only just for a while. No need to worry about your Turkish language course, or your English language lessons or even about the spots you’ve been trying to get rid of for a while. No need to think about anything else other than your dark roasted Sumatran blend in your hands and possibly one of the goodies you bought yourself as accompaniment. Despite being the one in the shop window, for once you’re not the one on display. For once, there is no one staring at you – with that skin colour of yours, you definitely stand out within the Turkish crowd. But right here right now, no one cares about where you’re from, whether you’re married or even whether you’re Muslim. A few metres away, someone is typing furiously on their Mac. Just the sight of it is reassuring. You’re taken back to your university days when you used to spend all day in Starbucks working on your dissertation which threatened to never end. It did end, later than it was supposed to but it did eventually, if you must really know.
Re-reading your previous blog posts, published and unpublished (they’ll get around to being published after some rigorous editing), you can’t help but giggle at the somewhat outrageous things you have written. You do wonder why you ever stopped. Writing had always been fun for you but then life took over, or so you told yourself. Bullshit. A little girl begging for money by your side brings you back to reality, to Turkey, to Ankara. Such a sad sight, children begging in the streets or cafés. You have since long stopped giving them money after realising that some of these children were only being used by adults for the sake of money. You do give them chocolates or cakes sometimes on the streets. She’s quickly shooed away by one of the Starbucks staff who’s probably telling her not to disturb the customers. Incident easily forgotten, you go back to your reading. Your Latvian food buddy and shopping guru sitting across you can barely hold her laughter from reading stuff my 20 year-old self wrote. Embarrassing but slightly encouraging .
Currently on the metro going to work (probably gonna be late given the speed at which it’s going), you thought now was a good time as any to start again.