Last night the movers came to give an estimate for moving our belongings from Ankara to Houston.
The decision to go back to the US for an indefinite period was in the making for quite a while, but we had thought of the move as a hiatus, taking a break after nine years here. We're leaving the school here in Ankara on very good terms (if they can forgive me for leaving) -- good enough in fact that they're holding the door open for us to return. Still, the ideas for a relationship during the interim never took shape, so we're doing the practical thing and moving on.
Today is the last day of school, and I said goodbye to a few of the students. I'll still be at work until mid-August, so I'm not saying goodbye to anyone else just yet. And there is still that thought of coming back in a year. But walking through our home with the movers yesterday, and saying goodbye to students today, reveal small fissures that will soon look like the Rift Valley.
This will be our fourth international move as a family in the last 20 years, so we've become familiar with upheaval: simultaneously feeling expectation and loss, losing the context that once defined you, but gaining the freedom to redefine yourself. Seeing new mountains and canyons appear out of nowhere. Discovering oceans where there used to be land. Redrawing the maps.
Hello, chaos. We meet again.
