June 4, 2016
15:21 Istanbul, Turkey Sitting at the gate I came into, from the plane, at Istanbul Ataturk, I waited patiently for my phone to finish charging. Once fully charged, and I made sure I knew which way to go, I proceeded to the restroom. After my chat with nature, I moved to the dual sinks, where a middle-aged man was standing - himself, in front of one since and his luggage in front of another. At peripheral glance, I figured he was washing his hands. He was washing his feet; one foot at a time, of course. Interestingly, I was not shocked by any of it. I stood there, and simply waited my turn. When he noticed my standing by, he began to scramble (just a little, in an apologetic way of ""I will finish"; but I gestured, "no, please continue, I'm fine." The man smiled and returned to his original pace. When he dried his feet, and the area, put on his socks and slipped into his shoes, he turned to me, smiling and waving, and said "thank you, goodbye" in what I believed to be Turkish - but definitely a language unbeknownst to me. I waved back, phonetically repeating what he said to me and proceeded to wash my hands. It was a moment that I will forever embrace, one that others with a lack of understanding might have judged. Perhaps he realized the same. Perhaps.
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