The "Honeymoon Phase" has yet to end

I have never been so consistently happy. I have never not complained as little as I have over the past three weeks. The one thing that I can say that I honestly hate about life in Turkey is that the doorknobs here really suck. They require more torque to operate than their American counterparts. Okay. Big deal. Is that all?!?!

I am not concerned that I am getting paid absolute crap--I have been working probably four times as many hours as I am getting paid for (prep time versus actual teaching time). It doesn't bother me that stores close early at night here and I don't have food for lunch tomorrow. It didn't bother me when, at our hotel in Kuşadası, there wasn't any hot water for showers for two days. I am not annoyed to be walking all over the place. I am not irritated by the number of people crammed into the city. The dirt and the noise do not bother me. I am fine with the unpredictable availability of toilet paper in public restrooms and have learned to carry my own. I don't care that I can't find refrigerated milk and have yet to become brave enough to pick one of the eight brands available in tetrapaks.

This is the way life is here. I can't believe that I'm not complaining. What is happening to me?!

Let me wax poetic. İzmir, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways... Seviyorum (I love):

• not needing car. I <3> lowering my carbon footprint.
  
• buying my groceries from tiny stores next to where I live. Though big business must surely exist, local businesses appear to be thriving even in downtown urban centers. Some chain stores exist but they are smaller than anything I've ever seen. Wal-Mart what?
  
• the absurdities of life. Turkish traffic. Turkish fashion. Turkish encounters.
• the bread. My god, the bread! Flat; fluffy; dry; chewy; buttery; flaky; bagel-like; stuffed with goat-chevre and parsley; baked with olives; a special bread available only during Ramadan; pita like you've never eaten before; sprinkled with regular sesame seeds; sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds; brushed with egg whites before being baked. Bread soaked in soup. Bread by itself. Bread, bread, bread.
  
• the Aegean. Every day, walking along the water. I love the smell, the wind, the fishermen catching fish at all hours of the day. It's beautiful at dawn, under the noon sun, at twilight and when it reflects the lights of the ships late in the dark.
• that they don't care about small change. When buying fruit and veg, or paying your bill for that matter, Turks round up or down to the nearest 25 kuruş (cents).
  
• the tea. Teeny little glasses of black tea are consumed more often than the world-renowned Turkish coffee. Sugar cubes are always served on the side. Little spoons rest on the saucer. So far I have seen one Starbucks in Turkey--one--and only once have I seen anyone toting around those stupid paper coffee cups that just end up in landfills. Turks sit down to drink their tea and when they're done, they wash the glass and use it again. Bless their hearts.