
On Winter, Who Wants to Be a Millionaire & Home
This is home too, from which I’m writing a thank you letter to Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, I suppose? Who would have thought? Continue reading On Winter, Who Wants to Be a Millionaire & Home
This is home too, from which I’m writing a thank you letter to Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, I suppose? Who would have thought? Continue reading On Winter, Who Wants to Be a Millionaire & Home
.. I’m from Istanbul. No, really. Originally. My great-great-great-great x great grandparents had been Ottomans. I don’t know what ethnicity, but yes, Istanbulites. No, not Arabs. Rums, you say? Maybe. I’ve always suspected that. No, not Armenian. But maybe. Continue reading Istanbul, Not Constantinople… ?
Migrant writer Aglaja Veteranyi once wrote that “[her] father says you remember the smell of your country no matter where you are but only recognize it when you’re far away.” Continue reading Leila Aboulela: Home, The Nile & Roasted Watermelon Seeds
As a self-proclaimed hyphenated spirit, I’ve dedicated my life to exploring what it means to be home. Growing up in Turkey and living in Europe and the U.S. have brought me closer to finding an answer to the complex question of home. Or so I thought. Continue reading about me