These are the inhabitants of Oludeniz...what appear to be British rednecks by our sociological ponderings. Fat, burnt, dirty, and crass. And fat. Did I say fat? (These are the skinny ones.)
These are the gorgeous turquoise shores of South Turkey sans FatBrits.
This is me absolutely satisfied. (We caught zero fish.)
FRUIT TARRRRTT!
So what I'm really thinking about right now is returning to Bangalore (now Bengaluuru). In a strange way, I really feel like I'm going home. Clearly India is not my home, and clearly I'm not Indian, but something about setting foot in India makes me feel like I'm returning to a place that makes me feel spectacularly happy and alive. Actually let me revise that. Fuck North India and the Cow Belt: Gimme some good ol' southern hospitality and then I feel at home.
More specifically though, I'm wondering what it is going to be like to see the children again. The last time I saw them was two years ago, and I don't have the slightest idea what it's going to be like this time. Last time I arrived at the center, walked up to the threshhold of the children's ward and saw almost all of them standing crowded around their doorway smiling and just staring at me. My reaction was to stare back at them and smile. About 15 seconds passed before the awkwardness broke and I was ushered back into the room and ridiculousness and playing commenced. That was one year after spending one year with them and talking on the phone monthly.
This time 2 years have passed and things have changed. Communications have been limited to emails with the eldest child and the director of the center; two years have passed in the lives of children and adolescents (god only knows what effect that has); and it appears that half of the children have been scattered about to different homes and orphanages so only 11 of them are remaining. Turns out they may have even moved locations after being kicked out of their old location. So yes, I'm nervous. Wish me luck.
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