I am cognizant of the fact that upon its
perusal in coming years, the following sentence will be met with disappointment
and a devilish grin, but I will still write it: I have to go to Istanbul in
five weeks and I’m scared to death.
The anxiety stems from lack of
language/knowledge of culture, having to find somewhere to live for a month,
and—ever so frightful—being by myself. Although there will be a friend living
there and a girl travelling with me part of the time, I feel helpless and
without any sense of control.
Again, I’m sure it will be fine. And I
hope (maybe tomorrow?) to start looking at this as an adventure rather than the
scary monster haunting my head and disturbing my wake.