- Have a nice trip. Let’s try to see each other again – he said, before our last kiss.
Already at the airport, as I walked down the airstrip toward the airplane ladder, I finally felt all the tears I had held back those last days in Corfu flood my eyes.
Hiding in the window of the aircraft with a smile on my face, I just let the tears fall. And there were many tears. Just before the security briefing began, a large black-eyed flight attendant handed me a tissue and just smiled. I returned the smile in gratitude and turned my eyes to the sun rising outside. I felt an immense appreciation, but an even greater longing. How it is possible to feel both joy and sadness?
64 – THE NO TEST
I had been in Istanbul for almost 4 hours, lost in public transport and trying to communicate in vain with the Turkish people. Everyone I stopped to ask for information told me they spoke English, but I didn’t understand a word they said.
I spent 50 Liras idly on the subway card because I couldn’t understand the machine and there were no officers to help me. The mobile app gave me a route, but when I started comparing stations, the path was completely different. I changed trains three times and caught the wrong bus that left me on a deserted street where I couldn’t even find a café to connect to the internet.
I gave up on public transportation and got into the first taxi I found. It was a long time before we reached my hostel’s address, and only the next day I discovered that I was tricked into the old scam already known in Braziclass="underline" going round and round with unwary tourists to make money on the meter.
A lively group drank wine and smoked hookahs at the only busy table in the bar. I missed the reception entrance and ended up in the middle of the celebration. I accepted the invitation for a beer but told them I would first leave my things in the dorm.
The room was clean and comfortable. Four black plywood bunk beds, modern and spacious. There were lockers with keys on the side of the beds and in the en-suite. I was the only girl, but the beds had curtains so I wasn’t worried.
After leaving the backpacks, I returned to the bar. Two Brazilian women were at the table and told me more about the city. Vivian and Milena were childhood friends. Milena lived in Turkey with her husband and Vivian was enjoying her work break in Brazil for a visit.
In addition to my new Brazilian friends, a nasty Frenchman, two Turks who worked at the hostel, and a German completed the table. There was no one else in the bar and it was a very fun night with wines, beers, hookahs, dances, and laughter.
Vivian was saying goodbye to Osman, with whom she had a brief romance. Milena would return to her city the next day and I was looking for a job that would guarantee at least free accommodation. Osman was the right guy for that, but our conversation only happened the next day.
I had applied three times for a volunteer receptionist job at the same hostel, but as the management did not respond to my requests, I booked one night as a guest and hoped to talk personally about the work.
The next afternoon, Osman arrived early to talk to me. Tall, brown hair, green eyes, and a well-designed mouth. He was wearing jeans, nice shoes, and a brown leather jacket he always had on. He wasn’t ugly, but the way he looked at me bothered me. Also, when we talked more closely I could feel an onion breath that was wrapping my stomach.
- Paula, we do the pub crawl every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. You will earn 5 euros for each person you bring on the tour – he explained, staring at me. – Today we have a large group and you can come with us to see how it works. Tomorrow I can put you in the volunteer house,” he concluded.
The work was very simple. The night began with a drink at the hostel bar, another drink on the bus that took us to the Asian side of the city and three drinks at different nightclubs, all of them free for participants. I just needed to make sure the customers were interacting and make sure everyone got their free drinks. I also had to give away flower strips or make psychedelic neon paintings.
The night went very well, but Osman wanted to be with me. What a situation, having to say no to my “boss.” In the third nightclub, after distributing the shots and dancing a little with the guests, I asked one of the girls who was working on the same tour what was the protocol for completing the job.
- Now that we’re in the third club and serving the drinks, you can leave any time you like.
I didn’t think twice. I left without saying goodbye and took a taxi straight to the hostel. Aware of the taxi drivers’ mischief, I opened the phone map and informed him that I would follow the route.
The next afternoon, Osman came to tell me that the volunteer house was full and that I couldn’t stay there for the next few days. In addition, the hostel also had all the beds occupied by a group of young religious who would be in Istanbul all week.
- I also have nowhere to sleep and would like to suggest for both of us to share the expenses of an Airbnb. It will be cheaper than a hostel and is much more comfortable. What do you say?
I couldn’t say anything, but I didn’t like the idea at all, mainly because the night before Osman wanted to be with me and I said no. I didn’t want to be rude to him because I really wanted to keep the paid job. I already had two customers for the next pub crawl, which already guaranteed me 10 euros.
After a few hours, Osman came to my side with some flats on his cell phone screen. I was very bothered to have to say no for the second time to the guy who was now my “boss,” but I really needed to do that. I needed to assert my will.
- Osman, I appreciate the suggestion to share a place, but I won’t be comfortable with you in the same space. I prefer to stay in a hostel nearby and keep working on the pub crawl. I hope you understand.
He made a surprised expression but accepted my decision. He tried to justify that he would never try anything with me if that was my concern, but we came to an agreement and I kept working on the party tour.
Satisfied to express my will, I took a shared room less than two kilometers away and went out to dinner alone, feeling very good about my assertiveness.
65 – THE NO LESSON
Murat the bartender was the typical Turk of movies. Long black beard. Thick eyebrow and big nose. He always wore jeans and hoodies and met us at the pub crawl always in the middle of the night, after closing the bar, when we were already on our way to the second or third club. I loved meeting him at the bar before the tours start. He was always excited.
We danced in the three nightclubs of the tour. I distributed the flower tiaras to everyone and said no to Osman once more. At the end of the night, drunker than usual, I got so excited about Murat’s dance and asked him for a kiss. He said no and I stood there for a few seconds in the middle of the dance floor, without understanding what just happened.
All the men in Turkey would stop me in the street to know my name and my nationality. The waiters asked me for my phone and my social media profiles. Why would he, the ugliest Turk of all the ones I had met, reject me? I left the nightclub a little confused.
- Murat rejected me! – I informed my friends outside the club.
- What? – asked the American.
- Not possible! – said the Brazilian.
- It’s all right. No one is forced to be with anyone. – I laughed and no one understood.
We staggered through the streets while I had fun with all that had happened.