 |
| Venard is on the Left |
BURSA, ISTANBUL Ever since I arrived in Bursa I had been trying to figure out how to get to Istandbul. Except for a spattering of words and phrases, no one speaks English. I was told to take the bus - it takes five hours but another hour to get to the station. Another said, "Take the ferry - only 1 1/2 hours," wrote down the name and location, but couldn't tell me how to get there. Near the hotel, I asked the attendant at the Metro Station, "How to get to the ferry?" "Take train number 1 to Mudanyan - it's near the sea - only twenty minutes - then the bus." "That's it," I thought. The next morning I went to the Metro Station and twenty minutes later arrived at my destination. Busses were lined up across from my stop. "This will be easy." I showed the first bus driver the slip with the name and location of the ferry. He shook his head and waved his arm in another direction. Seeing that I was confused, another bus driver came over - he couldn't speak English either. Soon there were half dozen drivers standing around, giving me advice - all in Turkish. I gave up trying to understand them and headed in the direction they were pointing. About two blocks away was a city bus stop. I decided to check with a small nearby pharmacy. The manager understood English, but was unclear as to how I to get to the ferry. He had five young ladies working for him, all started offering advice, in Turkish. They argued and debated and finally resolved that I should take bus 97 to the terminal and then another bus to the ferry. The manager wrote out the instructions in Turkish and said, "You need to go back to the first bus stop to get a ticket." There, the same group of drivers gathered around me; each reading the note the pharmacy manager had written, vigorously debating its merits. "I need a ticket," I kept saying. One of the drivers finally got it and pulled out of his wallet a well worn ticket. I looked at him in disbelief, but what could I do. I returned to the bus stop in front of the pharmacy not sure I had a valid ticket. A young boy saw me puzzling over the ticket, reached out his hand, looked at it, and gave me a thumbs up. I showed him my note and he nodded and pointed to himself indicating he was taking the same bus 97. He only spoke a few words of English but enough for me to learn his name was Venard, he was in the 10th grade, and played Soccer. Two women dressed in hijabs had been listening to our conversation and told Venard that they were going to the ferry and that I should follow them. As we waited for the bus, half an hour or so, I had time to get to know Venard, his two friends, and a variety of other characters, all of whom, had to read the note and offered advice as to its merits.
 |
| Blue Mosque, Istanbul |
The bus finally came but seemed to take us back through the same area I had come by train. About a half hour into the ride, Venard, who up until then had been attentive to my needs, had to get off. The two women in hijabs motioned to me from further up in the bus that they would help me. A young, smartly dressed, woman, without a head scarf, noticed, and in the best English I had heard so far in Turkey, said, "Can I help you?" She was a journalist for the Bursa newspaper and had studied in England. I thanked her for her help and asked her what she thought of the recent constitutional referendum. Puzzled at first that I should take an interest, said, "Bad, I voted no." "Why?" I asked, remembering that Eyup had actively campaigned for it and saw it as necessary for becoming more fully integrated with the European Union. "Too much power is given the President. We will lose our civil liberities." I wished we could have talked more - she had to get off the bus and two stops later we arrived at the bus station. The two women in hijabs motioned to me to follow them into the terminal where they assisted me in buying a ticket on another bus that would now take me to the ferry. It turned out to be an hour long ride during which, for the first time in Turkey, I traveled alone and in silence thinking I probably had gone completely out of the way but couldn't have met more friendly people. As I finish writing this, I'm in Istanbul. You can take all the places I've been to, group them together, and you still would not have the city of cities - Istanbul.
