I is for Istanbul
My father was stationed at an Air Force Base near Istanbul, Turkey in the late sixties when I was a toddler learning the ways and means of the world. We had one television station and an olive garden in the backyard to play to our hearts content.
My brother and I both spoke the native language for a short time but now remember absolutely nothing. I often wonder if someone from that region spoke to me about bananas and having a treat, would I understand them immediately or just look at them baffled yet suddenly craving “American” sweets and green bananas or a meat kabob from the street vendors.
It was a privilege to see where so many holy men and women have walked.