I had a very big adventure last month! A combination of several wonderful things happened at once. My good college buddy is currently living in Moscow, taken there because of her husband's FBI job. (I know, crazy. It's like living out our board game "Clue: Secrets and Spies"...the laptop with Agent Black in Moscow). She really wanted to me to come see her while she's living so close, and their family came to see us for a week or so. Additionally, Firstborn was turning 17. And when your little baby is suddenly 17 and a year out from moving away, you begin to want to spend birthday money on memories with them rather than tangible boxes to open. And finally, we found flight tickets for less than $200. So, that settled it. I took our only 3 day weekend, and off we went.
She was the best traveling buddy ever. I loved every minute of it. Here we are in the Ankara airport, waiting on our first flight. I felt like the entire time I was with someone more responsible than me!
When we landed in Istanbul, we kept seeing men wearing only towels. I suspected they were on the way to the Haj at Mecca. So, I asked the ticket agent, and she confirmed it.
What we didn't factor is that it was soon to be Friday (holy day) prayers. Soon, all of the women in the entire back wing of the airport were washing their hands, feet, and faces in the bathroom for prayers. And then there we were, two little white gals, sitting on the bench at the gate, surrounded by 50 women bowing and reciting their prayers, with a man standing up on the bench singing the call to prayer. It was overwhelming to say the least. I suppose because it was Turkey, and all these aunties were village Turkish women, I didn't feel as uncomfortable as you might think. I am glad we experienced it together. We said our own prayers. It was a good reminder.
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