That time our dolmus driver went bat shit crazy

Yesterday our dolmuş driver lost his cool.  Postal.  I get it, I really do.  It’s hot here in Mersin and it is only going to get hotter.  It was 35 in the shade yesterday afternoon and when it gets hot people lose their shit but this guy was one sandwich short of a picnic crazy and I did start to worry about our safety (you will understand as the story goes on).

Just to remind you or for the uninitiated a dolmuş is a shared taxi that runs along a set route.  It is usually quite civilised.  They come along every few minutes.  There are signs on the dolmuş so you know where they are going and it is easy enough to wave them down or ask them to stop when you want to get off.  If you are lucky you will get an air conditioned dolmuş which is a blessing in this heat but if they are not air conditioned then it is a little like being stuffed into a sauna with 30 other unlucky souls.

dolmus

(Stock photo – not dolmus in question)

Up to speed so back to my story.

It all started with the driver receiving a telephone call.  Now I know I do not have enough Turkish to give you a rundown of the conversation but I can tell you that he was obviously not on time (the drivers have a very tight schedule to keep and if they run late or run early they are fined) and his boss telephoned him wanting to know where he was.  He pretty much told his boss to get f*cked and he would get there when he got there.  I had a big grin on my face at this point after all who hasn’t wanted to tell their boss to get f*cked at one stage or another.

He then lit up a cigarette.  No you are not allowed to smoke on a bus in Turkey but the sign above his head “Sigara içilmez” or “no smoking” meant nothing to him at this point after all he had already told his boss where to go.  An elderly lady complained about the cigarette so in reply he flicked it at her feet.  She got out of the dolmuş.

At the next block a young mother hopped on with two children.  She handed over 50TL to the driver for payment and this was the catalyst to the next fifteen minutes of crazy.  The explosion of expletives being thrown around the dolmuş by the driver was astounding and he wasn’t discriminating, he was screaming at everyone.  Daughter (who is well versed in expletives) was gawking at the driver with her mouth wide open.  “I think we need to get off this bus,” she whispered.  I nodded in agreement and was about to ask the driver to stop when his telephone rang again.  The driver looked at the telephone, pulled the dolmuş over, turned the engine off, got out and shut the doors behind him.  At this point I began to wonder if we were being held hostage.

A man stood up and started trying to open the door but he was unable to so he hung out the window and abused the driver who turned around and started kicking the side of the bus.  This was sensational, well except for being held hostage and all that.  The mother that the driver had abused moments earlier started crying and another passenger was comforting her.  I started to giggle (which is what I normally do when I am nervous) and I wondered if the other passengers thought I would lose my shit next.

A couple of minutes later the Polis arrived and the driver immediately opened the door.  The driver was yelling at the Polis, the passengers started to get off the dolmuş and began yelling at the driver and the Polis while Daughter and I stealthy snuck off the dolmuş and backed away from the scene.  Once we were clear we stopped and stared at each other.  WTF???

When we got home Daughter called out to The Turk, “Daddy we just got kidnapped!  Really!”

He is never going to let us out by ourselves again.

Feeling Inspiration

We lost the internet for a couple of days – 4 days to be precise.  It amazes me how much time I waste sitting on my laptop aimlessly clicking on pages.  It numbs the mind.  It stops you for achieving what you intended to do so for the past few days I have actually achieved quite a lot.

I have been in a bit of a bubble since I have arrived here – it has been more than three months.  Did you know that?  Yep we have been here on the other side of the world on the crazy train for over three months now.  Things are different.  It is not the same.  New home.  New language.  New food.  New faces.  New life. 

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Daughter has started a new school, The Turk is finding it difficult to settle and I am the paste that holds this family together.  But yes three months of living in this rural village in Turkey.

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I have not made friends.  I have family – yes.  I have social interaction.  There is my sister in law Songul who is possibly the sweetest person you could ever meet.  I have laughed with her on a good day and have cried with her on a bad one.  I have a mother in law that is kind and generous – not everyone is as lucky as I am.  There is my brother in law Umit who has helped me wade through the bureaucracy that is the Turkish Government and helped me obtain my Yabancilara Mahsus Ikamet Tezkeresi (Residence Permit for Foreigners).  There are people in the village that always say hello or Merhaba and ask me in for cay but friends?  Well not really.  So last week I reached out to a couple of ladies who live in Mersin and are in a similar situation as I am. 

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A plan was hatched.  A date of set and a destination was decided upon.  Saturday morning came and I left the house quite early, firstly to ensure that I arrived at the destination (Starbucks) on time but also so I could do a little sneaky Christmas shopping on the side.  I never drink coffee, never have, but Starbucks is known the world over so where better a place to meet people – and meet people I did.  It was with pleasure and a lot of joy that I met Alannah and Melis.  Alannah is from Northern Ireland and works as an English teacher and Melis is a beautiful German lady (of Turkish decent) who is married to a local fellow.  We fell into conversation easy – there was no lull which I think showed the genuine friendship that was being formed.  Time flew quickly and then it was late afternoon – I could not miss my dolmuş (shared taxi) home. 

After being revitalised by these ladies (how I have missed having a chat) I rushed off to catch my first dolmuş.  One of the things I love about Turkey is the dolmuş.  Dolmuş means “apparently stuffed” and most of the time they are.  You climb aboard and hang on for the ride.  In Mersin the dolmuş all have a set route and as long as you are on the route you can wave them down as they pass.  No walking to the closest bus stop for us here just put out your hand and they will come.  The driving is usually excellent, well as long as you do not mind that your driver is smoking, or talking on his mobile, yelling at a customer, counting out change, swerving recklessly though traffic, dodging people on the road or generally disobeying every traffic road rule known to man.  A marvellous way to get around. 

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As I arrived in Atas it was quite clear that I was going to have to walk home as this small industrial area (where I connect to a dolmuş to Karaduvar) was quiet.  All the businesses were closed and there was not a soul to be seen after all it was cold, very foggy and in the dark Atas is a little bit intimidating.  I had started trudging down the dark street, slightly nervous, when I realised that I was being followed.  Crap!  Danger!  I walk a little faster (difficult in the boots I was wearing).  The footsteps behind me kept pace.  Buggar.  I glanced over my shoulder but it was too dark and too foggy to make out a figure.  Where is the bloody dolmuş when you need one?  Now I could hear breathing, wait, no.  It is panting.  I stop and spin around to find a large dog sliding to a halt behind me.  The big black dog looked at me quizzically, “Woof.  Why did you stop?  I was enjoying our walk.  Are we not going to your house where you will feed me?” he seemed to ask.  As I am more scared of the kopeks (dogs) than the people I was thankful that a dolmuş came along and I jumped on arriving home only slightly later than anticipated . . . however . . . The Turk had been waiting and was worried (everyone now goes “Awwwww”).  Yes he had stopped a few dolmuş.  He had let his family know I was missing, possibly dead and had his cousins searching the streets for me.  I jumped off the dolmuş oblivious to his concern and saw him standing, waiting for me. 

“Where have you been?”

“With friends.”  I like to be a bit vague, make him worry a bit (not realising that he had sent out the cavalry looking for me).

“It’s late.”

“No probs.  I’m here.”  Realising there was something afoot I asked, “You ok?”

“No,” he yelled, “I’ve been waiting for you.  I was worried.”

Again – awwwwww.

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Anyway back to the lack of internet.  Yes I had no internet for four days and it sucked.  I had no internet.  No electricity on Saturday night or all day Sunday and no telephone until Monday.  I have decided that I could disappear of the face of the earth and no one would know – well not until people realised I had not blogged for a while anyway.

But having no internet meant I did get other things done.  I made soup – oh my most exciting news (how sad do I sound – this should NOT be my most exciting news).  I found butternut pumpkin and made a delicious pumpkin and ginger corba (soup).  The Turk’s family have never had pumpkin soup before so I was inundated with people trialling my concoction.  I think it was good.  Daughter says it was good (although a little peppery).  The Turk’s family made lots of noises and said lots of things.  I am not really sure what they said but I am going with the fact that they thought it was delicious.  Wonderful.  Best corba ever!  Cok guzel!

My other news is that as many of my personal friends know I do love to write.  I have started and discarded many novels over the years.  With no internet, Daughter at school and The Turk going off with his brother to deliver maydanoz (parsley) to the restaurants I was taking my Hurley Dog for a walk and was inspired.  Not JK Rowling, become a billionaire inspired but inspired enough to open the laptop and type.

This is a good thing. 

This is what I want to do.

It has begun.