Thanks for the vomit!

Today we had a pleasant ride to church. Usually everyone in the bus is pressed up against each other and Jonathan and I, each holding tightly to either Hector or Helen, are just praying the entire time that our three older kids will be able to hear us when we shout that we need to get off the bus. They are able to hold their own thankfully. Sometimes I feel like we're in an action movie where we have to jump into a bus just at the right moment or the doors will close and it will drive off.

 Here's the way the station looks when we return home after church.

The challenge we have is to get all seven of us inside the bus before the doors close. Sometimes we have to position ourselves at different doors of the bus hoping we'll be able to synchronize our boarding. I hate it so much, yet I think sometimes I should be grateful for the sweaty, crowded, stinky journey because perhaps the bliss I experience as I enter my own apartment would not be so great. I looooovvvvve my apartment soooooooo much. heart. heart. heart.

Our journey today was different. Today the stars were in our favor. First, it is the second of a 9 day holiday for the Muslims. Actually, it's officially four days but the government decided to tack on a few extra days for fun. So an estimated 8 million people have left the city on holiday somewhere. Second, just before we got on the bus a little kid in the front of the bus had just vomited all over the floor and the liquid part of it was rolling quickly along the floor as if claiming territory for itself. All the people were moving toward the back of the bus as if the vomit was chasing them. When we boarded, everyone in the bus was silent as they watched our rather large family take our seats right above the river of vomit. It's not that we didn't see or smell the vomit, we did. But we were just excited to actually get to sit down for a change. It was great!

So, thanks to the Turkish government and vomit we had an easy and restful trip to church and back!

There's a lot going on in Turkey right now politically and despite the hot spot that it is, my everyday life has remained untouched by the chaos that has struck the lives of so many that are physically near, namely the Syrians. I see them everyday I think. I can't just assume that every covered woman and her family are Syrian. I can't identify them by the way they look because my eye is not conditioned to notice the differences between two peoples that share a man made border. I've seen them at the main police station when I was getting my work permit. Jonathan saw hoards of them at the central building you go to in order to get permission for your kids to attend school in this country. There are so many now here in Turkey. I find it depressing to think about how close I am to these refugees yet I do nothing to help them. Their homes are gone and they are looking for a new home but no one wants them. And I rant about having to stand up on a bus in order to go to church on Sundays. This world is messed up.