A diary written on the thirty-sixth day in Oman — a meditation on farewells, on the strange question of where home is, on a teacher in Sohar who became one of the most beautiful parts of the writer's story, and on time as something we cannot rewind or fast-forward, that we can only try to fill.
I am in Oman, as others call it, the heaven of the Arabian Peninsula. This is my thirty-sixth day here. I could not write much earlier, but now I want to share something about this place and our journey until we arrived in Sohar.
Throughout my life, I have never liked farewells. I don’t know why, it is still a mystery to me. When I left home again — but this time for another country — I felt a mix of excitement and fear for the new, along with the sadness of saying goodbye. I went out with my parents to the railway station. They dropped me off, I had my ticket checked and sat on a bench near an old lady who was talking on the phone. After she hung up, she began talking to me.
As every conversation begins, we started with the question “where are you from?”. Of course, everyone belongs somewhere — but can those places change? I did not expect that this simple dialogue would open my mind to something deeper.
Every conversation carries an emotional part, I think. With tearful eyes, she told me that she had nobody left here. After people lose their connections, she said, they are no longer from their hometown. She had lost almost all her relatives in this city except her sister, whom she was visiting. Even though the old lady had lived in Istanbul for forty years, she said it no longer felt like home. I took a step back in my thoughts. She was right — if you don’t have your loved ones in a city, the city feels completely empty. You never feel a sense of belonging even you have countless memories in every corner of it. I wondered could Sohar become an unforgettable city for me?
After the train journey, I went to Esenboğa Airport where I met with my friend and the rest of our group. Then the real journey begun. First, we went to Istanbul Airport, and after that we flew to Muscat. When we arrived, it was 3.00 a.m. We were all exhausted, and there was a problem with our visas. Eventually we solved it and met our new teacher. However, our journey was not yet over — we still had to travel to another city, which took two or three more hours.
Finally, we arrived at our dormitory in Sohar. After nearly twenty hours, we could finally sleep… and the story began.
I want to start telling our story with a reflection. Throughout my life, I have always believed that a teacher who can touch hearts and truly understand others can change something in our lives — our personalities, perspectives, or even our hobbies. In every place, there is such a teacher if students are lucky enough to find them. I never thought we would meet such a teacher in Sohar.
Even now, I am not sure how to describe him — whether as someone who touched our hearts or as the one who shaped our journey with his funny and unique classes. I do not know. But I can say he was one of the most beautiful parts of our story in Sohar, Oman. Memories shape our life without asking permission. Sometimes they become lessons, and other times, sources of happiness or even trauma. When I look back at my happiest moments at school, I always see our teacher in those memories. His class was, without doubt, the most enjoyable one for us. One day, we had a very hard day during our training in reception and library. We were all exhausted and a bit sad. After the training, we had a meeting with our teacher at the university. It became a motivation for us because the day had been so tough.
During the past six weeks in Oman, we visited different places, met different people and improved our Arabic. To be honest, discovering new places and meeting people unexpectedly are the best parts of traveling. I am also very happy that my Arabic improved. When I first came to Sohar, I could only introduce myself but after all these weeks, I can express myself much better. Honestly, speaking another language is deeply enjoyable for me.
After leaving the reception, we went to class and waited for our teacher. I remember that all of us were very tired and downhearted, but all that sadness disappeared when our teacher arrived — not alone, but with his wife and children. I still remember how we met his wife; she was so kind and graceful. Moreover, she had cooked desserts for us — and I believe each of us still remembers their taste. That day was truly special. We ate, talked about everything, and realized that sometimes people can wipe away negative emotions with just a smile.
As part of this educational journey, we also visited two other cities besides Sohar: Nizwa and Muscat. Both were beautiful and offered different experiences. We visited the Turkish Embassy, several historical and famous sites such as forts, the Sultan Qabuus Mosques and local souqs.
Like every journey, ours had its challenges, but I believe that is all part of travelling. Time is a strange concept. It is abstract yet we live within it. We cannot rewind it even if we wish nor can we fast-forward it. We only have the present but we are not even sure if we will remember it later. Because of that, I tried to fill my time in Oman with unforgettable memories.
Did I succeed? I am not sure. But for now, I remember every detail.