My first morning in Turkey, the unfamiliar sound of the Muslim call to prayer woke me at 5:45, but I stayed in bed for another hour, not wanting to face the innumerable challenges of living in a different culture. Once I’d left my safe refuge and stood in the bathroom looking at the bucket that I now call a shower, I realized life here would indeed be very different.

When I applied for the Fulbright Fellowship that brought me to Ankara, Turkey’s capital, last September, I knew very little about this part of the world. Although I have adapted to the culture, I am still constantly surprised by the differences between Turkey and America, and the stereotypes each country has about the other.

Unlike most nations, Turkey struggles to balance both Eastern and Western ideologies. Ankara has the same skyscrapers, traffic, shopping centers, and fast-food chains the typical westernized city has. Most women I see in the city do not cover their heads. However, in Turkey’s villages and rural areas, and even hidden in the cities, an older Eastern culture thrives.

I sometimes visit a village only an hour away from Ankara. When I’m there, it seems I’m in the middle of a National Geographic photograph. The roads are unpaved. The houses are constructed from concrete and rocks. There are no markets or stores. All the women wear head scarves.

Initially, I pitied the family I stay with during these visits. Gulsum, a twenty-nine-year-old mother of three, has never traveled outside Turkey, has never seen Istanbul, and only rarely goes to Ankara. She spends her days cooking, cleaning, tending her garden, and raising her children. Though most Americans would find this a tedious and isolated life, Gulsum is content in the village, proving that happiness depends on the person, not the living conditions. Part of the Fulbright grant’s mission is to promote cultural understanding; to achieve this, I’ve come to realize, I cannot assume my way of life is better than another’s.

The small cultural differences impact me the most. The first time I visited Gulsum’s family, we all sat on the floor to eat dinner. Forks and spoons were passed around, but no plates. As I took a spoonful of yogurt from the communal bowl and looked around at everyone crowded together, really sharing in a meal, I was struck by the closeness of the Turkish family.

A few months later, during the celebration of a Muslim holiday, Gulsum’s small house was filled with visiting relatives, leaving no place for solitude. When her youngest daughter, Mine, came down with a fever, she lay quietly in a corner while her cousins, aunts, and sister played and danced around her. There was no peaceful room for Mine to go to, a situation I could see she and her family were used to taking in stride.

Even in Ankara, I constantly notice the small differences. One day, as I walked to Ankara University, where I teach conversational English, I saw a woman stop, pick something off the sidewalk, and place it carefully on a ledge. When I reached the same spot, I saw she had rescued a piece of bread. The Turkish people consider it disrespectful to throw any food, especially bread, on the ground. In a developing country, amid considerable poverty, food is something that should never be wasted.

In my own apartment, when my Turkish roommate and I have food left over from a meal, we don’t throw it away, as I might have in the United States. We give it to our neighbors. It is customary to share what you have. When I first started working at Ankara University, I was surprised by my coworkers’ generosity. Before they ate anything, they would offer it to all their colleagues—quite different from office etiquette in Boston.

Most Americans have misperceptions about Turkey. Friends have asked me if I have to wear a head scarf, or whether I’m frightened to be here. They don’t realize how hospitable and friendly the Turks are. Living here and learning about the Turkish culture make me want to educate others.

At the same time, many Turkish people do not understand Americans, and often stereotype us. As the teacher of nearly 1,000 students, I have a great opportunity to learn what a wide cross section of Turks thinks about American culture and politics. Many see the United States as an imperialist nation. Though most distinguish between America’s people and its government, they believe U.S. foreign policy is misguided and needs improving.

To help build a bridge of understanding between the two nations, I have started a conversation group with some students. Eventually, I hope to connect Turkish and American students in a dialogue through e-mail, another way of breaking down stereotypes.

When I return to America next month, I plan to talk and write more about my experiences here, to foster further connections. Being immersed in a completely different culture has deepened my understanding of Turkey and my own country, and enriched my life. Even though I still sometimes resist getting out of bed in the morning.