Monday, August 22, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Turkish Diaries- Part III
Sometimes it was the lazy drizzle, sometimes it was the light snow flakes and sometimes it was the gluttonous misty river. But it was always the grandiose mountains hidden among the clouds that marred Turkey’s landscape. Basking in its galore, we snaked through the dark mountains. Now and then a vegetable truck or a van would lumber by and everyone would turn their heads to see it move past until it was out of sight. Istanbul was now a far cry and we drove through huge magniloquent coffee and grape plantations rolling down the mountains.
Everyone inside the bus was as tranquil as a church as if frozen in a void between time and reality. Even the bus was soundless and moved like the purring cat on a carpet. What stupefied everyone, I couldn’t decipher. What made me soporific, I couldn’t tell. Probably it was the ostentatious metamorphosis of nature that unfurled outside our windows that kept us in a spell or probably it was just the Turkish magic.
It was about 6 in the evening when we reached the Bursa bus terminal. The last rays of the sun threw itself on the parapet of the building roof and the shadows became long and dark. Scantily crowded, an old man with tufts of white hair sticking out from his ear lobes, hobbled over the platform selling napkins on a cart. The piercing cold seemed to have had no effect on his crippling bones and he moved from one person to another only to be coldly slighted. I quickly went in. A brightly illuminated building with counters of different bus companies ‘vortexed’ around a huge hall. A multitude of humanity milled around the place and the buses continued to ply at clean regular intervals, always making sure that not too many people crowded the platforms. The coffee here was the most intoxicating and it could pull you towards it, no matter how far you are. Several coffee shops, money exchange counters, phone booths lined on the other side of the building.
After sometime, while I was busy squinting at the place around, Deren Yagcir, a vivacious girl of 20 cantered towards me gleefully in a bright red jacket, hugged me tight and exchanging a few pleasantries, we went out into the cold towards the city. We chatted for a while and after sometime I entered into a kind of loop of fading and coming back to reality. The stunning skyline was mesmerizing and the city glowed like fireflies. Glowing in all colors, the tall minarets of the mosques looked like the evangelists of the city. After about an hour of driving through a bustling traffic, we reached Timurtazzpasa, the home of the AIESEC office. It was about half past 7 in the evening and the AIESEC’ers are gradually milling out of the office.
I was introduced to the few present inside the office and the names just brushed across my head. This does not go without saying that they had difficulty in grappling with my name too. Some kept struggling, some rolled their tongues and some just postponed to learn it later. These confrontations always amazed me when there’s a clash of two spatially polarized cultures. However it was a happy encounter and they were excited to see someone new in their country.
Soon Deren told me I would be staying in Gorukle, a student township of the Uludag Universitesi (university) and that it was half an hour drive from the office. My host would be waiting there and Burak Acagoluo, another AIESEC’er would help me get there. I felt a bit lost but she assured me. It started drizzling by the time we left and the prospect of climbing down 85 steps from the office with two huge bags was a scary affair. We finally managed to get down and reached Gorukle in about 40 minutes. Perched peacefully on a low hill just beside the University, Gorukle looked like the lamp of an old man on a dark night. However entering gorukle took me off ground. It was like entering a night club. A posh suburban township designed exclusively for students, its growing into a thriving city, complete with just its youth population. Its night life is just waking up. Music blazed from every corner, lights dazzled, giggling girls in high boots, boisterous boys in tight jeans, open air hookah bars, the roof tops bars just drawing its first mongers, sedans and cars whizzed past like sweeping eagles, the late research workers quickly squirming back home from the university to catch the last round of beer with his friends, coffee shops crowded to its hilt, buildings rising up and the late fruit vendors just wrapping up. It was a township that was soon taking the colors of a city night – bright, illuminant and vibrant.
Selen Sakar, my to-be host, guardian, companion and sister waited for me near the petrol offisi (petrol pump) eagerly. Burak dropped me there, introduced me to her and went off to his home, further down the road. We felt a bit awkward initially, but the folds creased down between us very soon. She could not speak much of English and we majorly conversed in signs, which was difficult but we got used to it very soon. And by the time we reached home, I knew it my heart that I met someone in my life, whose company, love and care I would cherish forever.
Drizzle, brilliant city lights, 85 steps, gorukle, happy-faces-with-strange-names, Turkish coffee marked my first day in Bursa. It had already slipped from my mind that I was one continent and two seas apart from home, though the thought of home gave a tug in my heart.
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