I think that I must have done something to offend Kemal Mustafa in a past life. You know how some people get the Revenge of Montezuma when they travel? Well, I got the Revenge of Atatürk when I was in Turkey, for like, two weeks, reducing me to pre-packaged food and Starbucks. Yum. As my friend Nicole put it, 'You like Turkish food, but Turkish food doesn't like you.' Not only did I have, um, tummy problems, but I was also shat on by a bird in Tophane. And two days ago, on Friday the 13th, I was dealt the coup de grace. While enjoying a nice smoke at shisa bar in Kreuzberg, I managed to knock over the pipe and dump a good portion of the coal onto my chest, which resulted in burns from my breasts down to my stomach. After spending pretty much the entire day at the hospital yesterday, it was determined that I have second and third degree burns on my left breast. A third degree burn (don't Google, the pictures are pretty disgusting) is a burn that goes through all layers of skin, down to the muscle or bone, and it doesn't hurt because you lose all the nerve cells there. In German, die Sensitivität ist nicht intakt. Luckily, mine is only half an inch wide, but it will probably take 2 to 3 weeks to heal. So no more nude beaches for me, at least for a while.
You win, Mustafa. You win.