Ah, the smell of good food! As I step out from the subway station, the mix of different foods immediately overwhelms me. It smells like curry, meat balls, fresh bread, and soup. It’s as if I went back home and the scent of dinner would fill up the whole house. Immediately I lose this smell as I step into the Turkish Soccer Club bar. Smoke thickens the air and it becomes hard to breathe. I can feel the smoke being ingrained into my clothes. I’m definitely not used to the smoke with my home towns having strict smoking restrictions. It is uncomfortable to me, but I must be polite as I am the guest. All I wonder is ‘would they be offended if I asked them not to smoke?’ But, the presentation starts and so I block out the smell of tobacco. After, I finish off with Turkish tea. My first official Turkish experience before our trip to Istanbul! The cups are shaped like a tulip with a gold ring around the outside of the cup. So simplistic, yet so sophisticated. Tea in a clear glass cup? Unheard of for an Asian. I’m used to the typical clay cup. Will this tea taste disgusting? Will it taste like I’ve had it, or something completely new? I take a sip. It looks like black tea but the taste is different to me. It is full-flavored and strong and makes me feel refreshed. First impression of the Turkish culture: I love it!

It seems as though I always happen to make these “long pilgrimages” to religious buildings. First in Rome, where I get lost in the twisting streets of cobblestone. Usually, only taking about 10 minutes before seeing St. Peter’s basilica, the last day in Rome consisted of me trekking for an hour and finally making it to St. Peter’s while soaking in sweat as I run toward the nearest fountain to drink the water. It was as if I had not drank water in days. History repeats itself as I again make a long trek to the mosque. I make a wrong turn and end up in a housing area with dead ends at the turn of each corner. Frustrated and drugged up on Benadryl to prevent heat-caused hives, I almost give up. I asked a cab driver on the street for directions and so I knew I was on the right road; but, I just couldn’t see the mosque. As I was about to give up, the same taxi driver drives up and offers a ride. I said that I didn’t have much money and that I was going to go back. He offers a ride and takes me right up to the gates to the Mosque free of charge. I’ve gone further distances in both Rome and Berlin, yet it seems the most difficult when I go to religious buildings. I call them my pilgrimages.