cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
We cross the Bosphorus Strait via a steamer ferry that has been running nonstop for decades, so we can wander through my old neighborhood. Europe to Asia. Two continents split a city that knows more splits than I can count. On the hill above, the newest and biggest mosque is rivaled in height by the…
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Flipping through my ninth-grade classbook, one photo in particular surprised me. It was the Future Teachers Club, and I was in it. Me? A future teacher? Joining this club must have been something my counselor suggested, because I never would have thought of myself as a teacher. I never thought of myself as much of…
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