Everything seems to be figure-out-able. Seriously. Everything.

Turkey is a place where barely anyone speaks English outside the tourist zones. I love that.

You’re not a local, you’re not fluent, you’re not even functional. 

You figure out how to read the taximeter, how the bridge tolls work, how people live. You sit in taxis while people light cigarettes like it’s changing radio stations.  You have to ask with your hands where the eggs are (which is hilarious btw)

You ask for prices, sometimes get a smile, sometimes get a scam. You figure out how to wash your clothes, how to order the right kebab when you’re picky, how to point, gesture, wait, adjust.

And the more you come back, the easier it gets. My Turkish isn’t great, but now I get by — and not just get by, I move, live, connect. Because I figured it out.

Just show up and figuring it out. Step into a place that doesn’t make sense yet. Stay long enough for it to start making sense. It always does.