Derya and Me

March 9th, 2014, 12am

Note to the reader: Hi, Thank you for reading it. It is a long and intimate story I will try to finish it as soon as I can. —

Derya Kaya- A sister, a friend and a partner in crime. We met in the scorching heat of August (2013) in Phoenix, Arizona.

She came into my life completely unannounced. After a couple of years of our first meeting she told me, “I remember the first time we met. I remember what you wore.”

To my surprise she remembered a lot of details from that morning. I on the other hand barely remember that meeting let alone what she wore or said.

I do remember the first walk we took together after a couple of days of our first meeting.

It was after 10pm. I think she came to my apartment and we went out together. She was wearing a light blue (short sleeves) cotton top and a pair of shorts with flip flops. Her perfectly lean body seemed almost fragile. Her hair tied into a messy bun looked graceful on her long neck. She was so relaxed, so confident and yet not intimidating. In fact, her demeanor was quite inviting. I guess that’s why we just started talking and the next thing I knew I was poring my heart out in front of her.

I told her everything - my background, my education, my family, my dreams, my secrets and my most personal stories. I told her how I felt about the world around me, why I came to America, I told her about my battles, about my pains and the scars I carry with me.

She reciprocated with the same openness and generosity. It felt like we were living identical lives in two different countries.

I looked at her, sitting on concrete bench, her legs crossed in front of her, her back straight.

Every now and then she would tell me about a Turkish saying, or a folk story or a joke. We would burst into laughter.

(I can still hear her laughing.)

It started drizzle but there was no sign of water or moisture on the ground. The water falling on the hot, hard concrete surface disappear as soon as it touches the ground.

Luis, Craig and David Wade said thanks.

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Hina Ali

I am a storyteller who is trying to be a great listener because if you can't listen you can't tell great stories.

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