Series: Going Back | Guest Writer: Megumi Nakazawa | "My Story"

I had the absolute honor of meeting Meg while in Turkey last week, however we actually first connected over facebook earlier in October. She found me through this very series, and after having a wonderful facetime together, I asked if she would want to be a guest writer.

I’m so honored that she said yes, and even more honored she met me for coffee in Istanbul in the middle of her own trip back to Turkey! Keep reading to hear the beautiful words from Megumi!

“When I introduce myself to people, most of the time my story begins with “I moved to Japan when I was 10.” Maybe 40% of you know where I lived before that, but that was never the center of our conversations because what you knew about me was only in Japan. And I love Japan, so I didn’t mind that. After 7 years of never sharing one of the most important pieces of who I am, I became used to the idea that my story began in Japan.

Ok here it goes. I grew up in Ürgüp, Turkey. Before that I lived in Ankara for about 4 years, but I can’t remember much. My first memories begin in Ürgüp. From pre-school up until 4th grade I attended Turkish public school, wearing my uniform, just like any other kid in town. I was fluent in Turkish and everyday I would either ride the dolmuş (school bus) to school, or just walk. I would eat all the school lunches that consisted of çorba, pilav, fasulye, salata, dolma or something like that. There was always ekmek (bread). I would pet the stray dogs, and try to catch the cats.  After school I would go to my friends house, or go exploring in the dry terrain and find lizards with Joel. On fridays we would have team meetings with the Moss family, and I would laugh and play with Joanna. We were sisters. We would write songs together, find turtles, play mariocart Wii, give each other BFF necklaces and bracelets, make forts in our living room. On the weekends me and my siblings would ride our bikes to town with daddy and get dondurma (ice-cream) from our local pastane. Some school kids would jokingly press their hands together and bow saying “hossss!” because they thought that’s what Japanese people do, but I didn’t care that much because I never felt like I was different. Turkey was my home, Japan was where my grandparents lived, and America was where we would go to visit churches. But Turkey was my home.

in 2011 when my parents told us we were moving, it was almost like I was being ripped away from a loved one that I would never see again. I was angry at God, and I was heartbroken. But we moved, and I was forced to adjust. There were almost no ways to bridge Turkey with Japan. Japanese 4th graders don’t really know how to respond when you say you lived in a foreign country far far away, nor did they care that much. So that’s when I quit talking about it. If nobody would accept the treasure that I held in my hands, the only way I could protect it was to hide it away in a box and never open it up again. Was that healthy? Probably not, but my heart was hurting and I didn’t want to feel pain anymore. I wanted to love Japan, but I couldn’t love it unless I forced myself to stop loving Turkey. “Turkey isn’t that interesting” “Let’s talk about something else.” After a few years I forgot about the pain, and I had created some amazing memories in Japan. I made many close friends, joined CAJ, found new places to get ice-cream, found new hobbies, and began to call Japan my home. When I started college apps I almost forgot to mention that I lived in Turkey. Did I even live in Turkey?

It wasn’t until February of this year that I realized what was going on for the last 7 years. It was like I opened the dusty box of treasures that I hadn’t looked at since 2011, and suddenly my heart exploded. What was I doing? How had I forgotten something so precious? I have to go back. 

And here I am, visiting Cappadocia, looking directly at the treasure that I lost. Smelling the air and hearing the sounds. Gazing into the indescribable beauty. Honestly, I still don’t quite know how to feel. As I slowly build connections between Japan and Turkey, what I realized is that closure doesn’t mean losing. I can still identify this place as part of who I am, even as I walk into a new season of my life. Why should I let it go? I get to say I have 2 homes, and I love them both dearly. Jesus had a good and loving plan all along.

Maybe you didn’t know how important this place is to me, but now I want you to know. So if you have read this far, and have taken the time to hear my story, thank you so much. It means a lot, you have no idea. And maybe you have come to see Cappadocia as a beautiful place too. My heart is full.

5 things I wish everyone knew about being a TCK

I wish they would know that i don’t need to get to know them before i am gonna be real about my life. If they ask me who I am, I would tell them, and in return I hope that others will also be real with me.

what you want other TCK's growing up to know/ 

I wish they knew that God takes things away for a reason that is for our own good and further joy. "