This can't be right, I thought, ascending the worn stairs, 17, 18, 19how can there only be 19 apartments?!

Holding my breath like the trespasser I feared I may have just become, I retraced my steps downstairs.

Now what?

The airport taxi driver had seemed satisfied when, after reading my Turkish contacts' address, he dropped me off at this apartment building. Sure, I didn't know which buzzer to press to get inside, but the door opened anyway. Yet from the numbers on the address, I gathered there MUST be more than 19 rooms!

I didn't want to accept that I might be wandering around a random apartment building in Turkey, the next stop on my mission to backpack 360around the world in 180 days documenting Christian students' university experiences. Yet reality refused to right itself. If the airport had offered Wi-Fi, or if SIM cards had been cheaper, or if the ATMs had let me withdraw cash, maybe reality would have been different.