I knew I was back in my element within moments of arriving in Istanbul. Having just left the placid cow pastures of Northeast Georgia, the slam-packed Istanbul airport was a jarring impact to the senses. You can hardly walk at a normal pace through the airport as there are so many people, and from every point in the world where East would meet West.
I headed out onto the terrance where I promptly fell into an extended conversation with an East Indian, a Bulgarian, and myself of course an American who lives in Macedonia - all within the confines of the Istanbul airport. Our conversations covered African countries (which one’s were the most dangerous at the moment and which ones were the best business environments), skiing, spicy foods (which even the East Indian admitted Thailand holds the Gold Medal), to marathons, to diving to cave diving, to banking and insurance (the East Indian who goes by the name Samil, is a banker) to engineering and communications (which covered Alex the Bulgarian’s expertise), to non-profits and leadership and cultures.
The scope of the conversations reflects the world I was made for, and after nine weeks in the USA (and ridiculous conversations about Dump Trump and Hell no Hillary), it was a shot of pure adrenaline to my psyche and soul. There is so so much more to the world that we live in, than the cows mooing at one another over barbed-wire fences. Its good to be home.
