CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
After leaving Turkey for the US, I had kept in touch with one of my childhood friends from Karsiyaka, a guy named Metin. He wrote me some letters, telling me about how much he wanted to come to California and continue his education. He had lived in Italy before and was seeking a way to come to the US. Finally, it happened. He registered to attend Fresno State University and came over just as I had, but I have to be honest — he had much more of a plan than I did.
I traveled to Fresno to visit him and was surprised to meet a few more international students from Turkey there. One guy named Murat, from Istanbul, played the guitar, and he invited Metin and me to a get-together in the Woodward Park neighborhood, where he rented a house with roommates. I was immediately excited to be around such good people, and I had a lot of fun. Though my visits were short, they made me feel very comfortable. Being around them made me realize how much I had missed the Turkish culture, music, and people.
Metin returned the favor, coming to visit me in Sonora on several occasions, but eventually he began talking to me about moving to Fresno. He said that we could rent a house that belonged to a woman he knew and live together. Although I wanted a change, it was a big decision to quit my job and leave a place where I had lived for over five years and developed many good friendships. It took me a while to decide but in the end I agreed.
The time had come for me to say goodbye to the place that had taught me and given me so much. It was sad to leave a place where I held so many memories. This was the place where I had gone to church for the first time, which taught me the importance of having faith and maintaining a positive attitude. Sonora was the place where I felt I had experienced the true freedom I had always sought. But I felt it was time to start a new chapter in my life and pursue new opportunities.
I gave notice at Coyote Creek, packed up my stuff, said my goodbyes, and headed out. Charles did me one last favor on my way out, typing up a letter of recommendation to help me find a job in a new city. I had two pieces of luggage and $300 in the bank as I headed to a city where I knew only a couple of people. I had no idea what the future held for me.
Fresno is about two hours southwest of Sonora, in the middle of California. It’s a mid-sized city, which had a population of a little more than half a million at the time but by now is close to one million. I had been there once, for the Huey Lewis and the News concert I mentioned earlier, but other than that and a couple of recent visits, I didn’t really know much about the area.
The house Metin and I moved into was less than a mile away from the Fresno State campus, near Shaw Avenue. I had no plans to go back to school myself, though, at least not right away. What I needed, urgently, was a job.
It had been over a month, and I had applied everywhere I could think of and attended job fairs with my resume and letter in hand but received no offers from any employer. Every day, I waited by the phone, hoping to get a job offer. I was beginning to grow truly fearful that my American journey might be coming to its end. I remember driving to Sanger with Metin to apply for a labor job picking fruit in the fields — which I had no experience doing. I had gone to job fairs, attended meetings for selling filtered water, and applied at restaurants, willing to do anything from washing dishes to busing tables, with no luck.
Finally, one day the phone rang, and I was offered work as a cashier at a 7-Eleven located across from Fresno State. I accepted immediately, as my bills had been piling up. But it turned out that I wasn’t destined to stay there long. Only a few weeks later, I received another job offer. I became a salesperson at Macy’s, where the hours and environment were much more appealing. I recall my boss Suzy at 7-Eleven being very nice and understanding. I viewed Macy’s as a fancy place and I was very proud to be employed by such a quality company.
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