The Problem with the Past Tense

Procrastination really is the key to blogging. If I had only known that at the beginning of the semester, perhaps I would have blogged more.

The good news that comes with this post is that I am almost done with my academic commitments to Koç University. The bad news is that this signals the end of the semester, which means a return to the States, and the end of this experience.

The last several days have really flown by. Not flown by like the days do when you are busy and overworked. Rather, these days have flown by, despite my desire to cherish every moment.

There is more bad news. I have started hearing myself say things like, “This is our last Sunday night”, or “A final trip to the Grand Bazaar.” Generally a comment like this is followed by groans from those around me, and then a short moment of quiet. It is in these moments of quiet that I have started to try and process the fact that I am leaving soon.

There is a definite denial phase to this process. You see, for 6 months prior to arriving, you tell everyone that you are “going to Istanbul”. And then for 5 months, you tell everyone that you are “living in Istanbul.” Returning back to the States means that I will have to start telling people that I “lived in Istanbul.”

Not to start a grammar lesson here… But the past tense is not one of my favorite verb conjugations. It feels so final. So removed. So over. The use of the past tense in English connotes an end point. It means that it was an activity or status that was once enjoyed, and now, only exists in the stories that you tell. It means that it no longer is a part of who you actively are.

While my experience living here is over when I step on a plane to re-enter the United States, it is not in the past. It is in my present, and my future. There is something about this experience, this city, these people and these moments that I will carry with me every day in the future.

It’s the way that calling someone “canim” changes the dynamic of a relationship.

It’s the subtle upwards head nod that has come to mean no.

It’s the “simit domates ve peynir” for breakfast.

It’s the Turkish flag on every corner.

It’s the never ending flow of cay.

It’s the Bosporus.

It’s the dolmus.

It’s the love.

It’s the life.

It is.