21

Friday was my 21st birthday. 

The kids on my program surprised me by showing up at my dorm room with balloons, ice cream, and strawberry milk (three of my all-time favorite things) at the exact moment I turned 21. As if that wasn’t enough, they took me out to dinner at some swanky restaurant overlooking the Bosphorus and we finished off the night by going to one of the nicest clubs in Istanbul (entrance was free that night—the club manager must have heard it was my birthday). It was an excellent beginning to my 22nd year, and I give full credit to the wonderful friends I’ve made on this program.

It’s interesting turning 21 in a country where that age has no particular significance. The novelty of being 21 certainly hasn’t hit me, and I don’t think it will until I get back to the States. Being 21 does provide a nice sense of liberty though—no longer will my age inhibit my freedom. I realized, however, that the only two freedoms I knew I had just gained were drinking alcohol and gambling in Las Vegas. That didn’t sound like a healthy lifestyle, so I decided to look up the other freedoms I acquired. Here are the results:

1. I can adopt a child (mom, I know you want a grandchild, but I think I’m going to hold off on the whole adoption thing at least until I get back from Turkey).

2. I can supervise a learning driver (I think alcohol and gambling would be safer options).

3. I can buy a house without a co-signer (do you think they’ll accept student loans as payment?).

That’s about it. So, to sum up—I can drink, gamble, adopt a child, get in a car with someone who doesn’t know how to drive, and buy a house without anyone to fall back on. My conclusion: I now have the freedom to make bad choices.

Well, okay, the whole adoption thing is pretty cool, but I’m not ready for that yet. And I guess buying a house will come in handy some day. But for the moment, the United States government has just granted me permission to make questionable life decisions. Hooray?