Turkey: It was meant to be
Today, as I was strolling around the Berlin district of Kreuzberg, I came across a bike with a loading space parked along the side walk. On top of the loading space, there was a wooden box full of books, next to it a sign stating that they were free to take for anyone and that a donation in return would be appreciated.
As I passed the book box, I remembered something: Almost four years ago, I’d been at the exact same spot and had picked up a small Turkish-German dictionary. Back then, I didn’t have any intentions whatsoever of learning the Turkish language. Neither did I have the slightest clue that I’d find myself living in Turkey for one and a half years.
As someone strongly interested in languages, taking that dictionary with me was an instinctive action. I took it home thinking You never know.
Maybe me finding the book at the time was one of the many steps directing me towards Turkey. Maybe it was all meant to be. I kept the book and even took it to Turkey with me. I’ve hardly ever had a look into it but it has been of symbolic importance to me.
Today, as I passed that book box, I felt a circle gently closing. It felt special.