ISTANBUL — When I got into Cornell, we celebrated. When I got into a place called Boğaziçi, centered in the heart of Istanbul, the reaction was slightly more mixed. “Hmmmmm,” wrote my mother, “is this a joke? Looks like Kazakhstan?” My father asked me if there was really anything to gain. My friends said “Turkey, who goes to Turkey?” My coworkers at New York City Economic Development Corporation took my photo and stuck on a mustache and a fez (I liked this one). And my brother, all of ten years old, looked at me and asked “Turkey is a country?” Yeah Josh, Turkey is a country. Quite an incredible one at that. But it took me some time to figure it out.

Up until the last minute I wavered on the decision. After all, the whole deal seemed pretty sketchy to me. Every e-mail I sent took two weeks for a reply, I didn't receive an acceptance letter until mid-summer, I couldn't tell whether the Turkish names in my inbox were male or female, and the official documentation was written completely in Comic Sans — this wasn't normal. Still, I stuck with it, booked a ticket, resigned my RA job and then totally regretted the whole thing. It was a turbulent summer in Turkey (Failed legal coup, major bombing in Istanbul, Al Qaeda attack on the US embassy, you get the picture) and I knew I was leaving a good thing at Cornell. As late as August I was still interviewing for what I looked to turn into a credit internship with a union, hoping to help promote Obama as the election approached (I got the job). But, all said, in early September I boarded a plane (got bumped up to first class!) and was on my way.

When I landed, as I've written before, things got off to a wild start. My first interaction with Turkish people was a high decibel fight at a taxi dispatch center. Tensions were high, yes, but as it went down I thought to myself that this could end up being kind of fun, I haven't been let down.

Istanbul is a city of 15 million (just a few million more than Ithaca) and has the craziness to go along with. I've loved that craziness. Life in the big city is never dull and the people I have met have been incredibly warm. I thought it might be otherwise after seeing the American approval rating over here (9 percent) and, happily, I've been proven wrong.

Over the past three months I have been introduced to a country that, while it has its fair share of problems, is filled with delightful complication and a learning experience around every corner. I will miss much. I will miss the global coalescence of students in Boğaziçi, who, coming from every corner of the world, bring thier own story to each interaction. I will miss walking to class along the Bosporus Strait and the late night cup of tea. I will miss seeing America from the outside and the new perspectives granted from that vantage point. I will miss standing in Europe and looking at Asia and then standing in Asia and looking at Europe. I will miss the absence of a Greek system which, now more than ever, I'm convinced is a massive detriment to American college life. I will miss fact that I can walk around in short sleeves in December. And of course, I will miss this spot in the paper next to my good friend, Sudoku.

It wasn't easy. After two rejections and what looked to be a third I was ready to give up on ever writing a steady column for The Sun. Then, I decided to give it one last try and wrote an e-mail literally entitled “Ok, my last column pitch.” Thankfully, friendly Associate Editor David Wittenberg gave me a shot and it has been an exciting three months. I guess when I get back I'll find out whether you folks liked or hated what's been written but, either way, I will always look back on the experience as a great one. So thank you David.

I also need to quickly thank the folks that helped me get over here — Libby Okhiro and Kathy Lynch from Cornell Abroad (They're great), ILR's Kevin Harris (GO BIG RED HOCKEY), Professors Griffith and Roberts for recommendations and to my own folks who, against their instincts, ended up giving their blessing to this adventure. Also, if you were wondering, credit goes to Adrienne Yip for the photo, Gracias.

Thanks as well to Stephen Kinzer who graciously took the time to chat with me about his experiences as The New York Times' Istanbul Bureau chief and led me to Omer Madra (See: Turntable Activism).

When writing about the perception of 'the Turk,' Kinzer says that the Turk has always been looked at as a point of terror in Western civilization. They have been seen as bogeymen, barbaric and savage. Yet, says Kinzer, those coming back from Istanbul would have amazing reports and love for the culture. While Kinzer begins his writing with that idea, I will end mine with it.

Alex Kantrowitz is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He is writing from Istanbul, Turkey this semester. Check out his blog at http://smokedturkey.wordpress.com/ for further coverage. Smoked Turkey appears alternate Fridays this semester. Alex may be contacted at akantrowitz@cornellsun.com