Hooka Bars and Shooting Stars

It struck home somewhere along the trip that life in the left lane isn't all it's cracked up to be. I think Americans should learn how to slow down. Our work weeks, our parties, even our vacations stand to be reevaluated. I think that this hit home most clearly when I visited a hooka bar in Antalya. We decided to walk along the coast that night just to explore, and ended up stopping in a small hooka bar along the Mediterranean. That night, as the four other guys on the trip and I passed a quarter mile of disco clubs and bars along our way back, we started discussing the mindlessness of the average American college student's approach toward entertainment. We concluded that Americans would be better off if they placed more of an emphasis on appreciating life instead of 'having fun.' This isn't such an odd sentiment - it's the notion that we should seek for contentment in life. But visiting the hooka bar gave me a glimpse of the way Anatolians actually implement this concept and I decided that my own life could stand to incorporate a little more stargazing and a little less running around.

I also came to the realization that night that the world of Turkey will go on without me. We met an employee at the hooka bar who taught us how to play backgammon and then stuck around and offered us advice. As I thought about the fact that I would probably never see this new friend again, it struck me that our places could have easily been switched. If I grew up in Antalya, he would have been just another customer with no significant impact on my government, paycheck, or lifestyle. Life would go on without him and his life would go on without me. Again, experiences like these sound corny, but I find it hard not to block out what seems immediately relevant to my own existence-- thus, the realization doesn't hit home very easily.