20 Days

In 20 days I will be home.

I will miss Turkish food.

I will consume copious amounts of pork. I will eat bacon. I will eat prosciutto. I will eat baked ham. I will eat pulled pork. I will eat bacon again. I will have a heart attack, undergo bypass surgery and then eat more bacon in 1-2 weeks.

I will miss my good students. I will even miss my bad students.

I will run the air conditioner without regard for the costs to my wallet or the environment.

I will miss the mountains and cool morning air.

I will drive my vehicle around and around just to appreciate the freedom of movement over great distances at a decent speed without the risk of dying an unspeakably horrible death at the hands of the world's worst drivers.

I will miss comic encounters with restaurant servers trying to explain what they do and do not have to eat in their restaurant, how much it will cost and how long it will take to prepare.

I will go to the movie theater and enjoy movies on the week they're actually released. In English.

I will miss laughing with my students over hilarious miscommunications.

I will view YouTube without being blocked by the Turkish government. I will even watch the bad things on YouTube, like Fred, because I can.

I will miss the routine of waking up late, rushing to get ready, eating the same breakfast, walking down the same street to the same school to teach the same students.

I will go the UALR Financial Aid Office and call them names for auditing my financial aid account while I was in Turkey.

I will miss the lady at the grocery store where I bought a drink every night. She worked like 16-hour days but always managed to be cheerful.

I will smile at people and they will smile back instead of looking at me like they wished I would die.

I will miss the way the students help one another with their English without being annoyed with each other.

I will eat real pizza.

I will miss the fresh, organic tomatoes and watermelons.

I will attend weddings that are not competing with one another to be the first to reach 200 decibels.

I will miss having a cup of Turkish tea after every meal and enjoying the peace and quiet of digestion without some server trying to move you along.

I will take only one shower per day instead of two to three because that will be all that's required.

I will miss my restaurant friends at Lale and Sevenin Yeri, who after a month finally cracked a smile when I walked in.

I will eat Mexican food made by real Mexicans.

I will miss our school's headmaster, Nusret, who was the first person to actually make me feel welcome here.

I will live happily without being under the watchful gaze of Atatürk wherever I go.

I will miss having my windows open all the time, even though bats and insects came inside.

I will not have bats on my face.

I will miss the fresh-tasting cherry, apricot and mixed fruit juices. I will even miss ayran, the salty yogurt drink that I grew to love.

I will see my friend Mike and crack inappropriate jokes with him. We will also eat pork.

I will miss having something meaningful to do every day.

I will call people when I want to talk to them without worrying about time zones.

And I hate to admit it but I will even miss the haphazard way things are planned and executed here.