My experience abroad

Here we go again, I though, when the bumpy concrete carpet that is Istanbul appeared on my plane's window.

Once again I was about to walk between two worlds, one more familiar and comfortable, the other constantly shape shifting as I tried to grasp it. Will I get it this time, or will it get me first? This chasing game is all I'm in for everytime I hop on a plane leaving for some, let's say, less predictable land.

Most of the times, I lost it for lack of patience or time to understand its rules, but this time over I have more time to stay and “get it”, and patience will hopefully follow suit.

Two months is what I have this time. Two months - maybe more - and a new city, Ankara, that I've only seen from a speeding bus once and that is now waiting to be my stomping grounds for some time.

I know Istanbul quite well now, as I've been there many times, but as much as I love it and it is fascinating I also understand now that it is not Turkey. Or better, it is ALL Turkeys, a place that is pulled in all directions by invisible energies that wants it once european, once eastern, once holy, once dirty.

Ankara instead is the capital, the newer point of balance to this massive and manifold country. I can already feel the difference from what I've known so far, as this is a much “tidier” city; streets are wide and airy, life appears to be more inclined to rush less and sleep early, and the State's institutions make themselves considerably more noticed than elsewhere.

But is this Turkey, I wonder? Or is it a projection of what this country thrives to be? Surely, by the scale of the efforts made to celebrate the country's history one may think that the ambition to greatness is all there; and no better place to notice this than Anıtkabir, the massive mausoleum and resting place to modern Turkey's founder Atatürk.

I visited it on my second day in the city, and in all its majestic monumentality I could not help but seeing echoes of similar places in Europe, where the care to remember our past is paramount. In a place so young and mixed like Turkey, instead, such celebration perhaps feels slightly misplaced.

But I want to get deeper into that as I'm living here, as I'm sure that I am still influenced by my western mentality and I surely don't know enough about this country's history and culture.

Having made all these deep sociolpolitical considerations, I can now finally focus on my favourite part of cultural exchange: food!

The whole world knows that us Italians are the snobbiest when it comes to eating, and as a food-loving Italian I am perfectly aware that I can easily fit that description. But I'll go against my cultural instincts and say that turkish food is just great. Sure, meat is omnipresent and perhaps olives and tea don't make the easiest breakfast to approach when coming from cappuccino and cornetto, but in general it's a total win for me. Meze are the best invention since probably the wheel, ayran should be mandatory everywhere in place of water, and lokum is the best possible way to glue one's teeth together.

So, in conclusion, there's enough for everybody here. Just be ready to set some of your convinctions aside, because there is so much here to take in that you must leave some room inside your brain. And soul.