Osman: Chapter 2: A hotel in Adana

Chapter 2: The adventure in the glorious hotel

Dude, looking busy.

Behind the counter of the reception desk sat a medium height and heavyset teenager. He sat hunched over so all I could see was the top of his head. He was busy staring at his screen and hoping to God that nobody asked him anything in English.

A stock photo, he’s a bit more confident then the receptionist I came across.

“Merhaba” I said. His head popped up. “Merhaba” means “hello” in modern Ottoman. Then the dreaded words came: “Ingilizce konusyor musun?” – “Do you speak English?” His bottom lip quivered, and his hands pointed at a shaking document. “I have a room booked for 7 days” I said. His eyes blinked, he looked down at his desk. I held up seven fingers. “Yedi gun, Yedi gun” I repeated. “Yedi gun” means “Seven day”, which wasn’t grammatically correct, but it was the best I had to offer at that moment. His frantic hands grabbed a telephone and shortly thereafter another man came down.

That beautiful “Nakit”

He slurred English and Turkish words together. “You pay nakit!” he said. His voice raised a bit as I pulled a bankcard out. “Nakit!” he yelled again. He motioned with his hands. He held one hand flat with the top part facing the ground and slid his other hand across its palm as if he were flinging money at me. “Nakit” means cash. “ATM var mi? ATM yakin?” I asked. “Do you have an ATM? Is there an ATM nearby?” He walked with me and there was a bank just around the corner. I withdrew nine hundred Ottoman Liras and moments later he handed me four liras and a key to room 402.

The elevator wasn’t this crowded, but it felt like it.

I got in the elevator with the nervous teenager, into an elevator that fit one or two people but now had a chubby boy and a skinny man and two large bags both weighing around twenty kilograms each.

A photo from the actual hotel.

This place looked a bit skeptical from the outside. There were dirty and old buildings as well as skeptical looking warehouses with Conos and Kros waddling on the streets like penguins. The hall was dark and shady looking, but the doors were new. I turned the handle and entered, everything inside was new and clean too. There were four different Internet connections to choose from, hot water in the shower and a nice comfortable bed. I slide the curtains to check out the view. There was a grand view of the warehouse’s yard, which was covered with beautiful packages resting on slabs that looked like they had been there for quite some time. Beyond the yard there lie a crumbling street. Across from that makeshift road there was a school and down it there were car lots and other stores.

“Shock” with “shocking” prices.

After settling in a little bit, I decided this neighborhood was not one where you would want to go out after dark. It was about four P.M. so I pulled out my phone’s map application to look for a shop. “Sok” showed up which is a small shop similar to wal-mart or Tesko in appliances yet there is less variety and the entire shop is the size of a large room that has a “U shape” that goes around like the IKEA stores. There are several different chain franchises like Sok around The Ottoman Empire: “A101” “BIM” and “Migros”.

Some dude opening or closing a door

I checked the route several times. I needed to exit the hotel, take a right, then walk for four to five minutes cross a set of railroad tracks and then I would arrive at the “Sok” store. I checked it a few more times, then grabbed my wallet, keys and phone and headed out the door.

Looking at this photo you can smell the air, but what do you smell?

I had been right about this neighborhood. I stood out and their eyes flocked to me like moths to light. As I crossed a road on the side closest to my hotel of the railroad tracks I had to sprint a little bit to avoid being hit by some kind of truck that looked like it was from the 1960s or 1970s. I crossed the railroad tracks and there still weren’t any signs of a “Sok” or any food shop. I pulled out my phone to check where I was on the route and then put the cell phone back into my pocket as quickly as possible.

shhhhhhhhh

There are a few rules you may want to remember if you ever end up in a neighborhood like this in The Ottoman Empire (or any foreign country). “Don’t ever pull a cellphone out of your pocket that isn’t a flip phone or a cheap smart phone”, and “don’t ever speak English or any foreign language that isn’t native to that country”.  As long as I didn’t have to open my mouth, I would be fine. Hopefully they would just think I was a Syrian Refugee from Aleppo or an Ottoman Laz from the Black Sea region.

Looks almost like the one I entered in Adana.

There were a few people waiting at the station and I passed a few shops on the opposite side of the railroad tracks and could see the “Sok” sign in the distance. However, as I got closer, I saw that there was also an “A101” store, so I went inside. Once again, I tried my best not to say too much. I grabbed a few things to make sandwiches, got a few mini tubs of yogurt, a bag of doritos and went to the check out. The workers in this shop didn’t seem to care that people were waiting in line and they either went about the shop continuing to work or just talked on their cell phones. Finally one waddled up and started scanning items. I paid in cash and went back out to the road. Carrying two bags of groceries more eyes were attracted to me and whispers of gossip were flowing already.

I wish I had bought this much pastirma.

After eating a pastirma cheese sandwich with cream cheese base it was almost time for bed. Pastirma is an Ottoman attempt at bacon, but it isn’t made from pigs. The cream cheese is actually a little bit different too, a very wet cream similar to cheese whiz with a rich coat of white that works perfect for a cheese/ham sandwich or a wrap. I lay on the bed and it felt great. The hotel was perfect inside, everything was working well, and it was also amazing to have a hot shower and working Internet again. There was no worry of the “Kro” landlord or the English school I had been working at anymore. I would just need to be careful to go out and shop before dark and keep my eyes peeled for anything dangerous on the outside of the hotel when I was out there.

A photo from Turkmenistan, but it represents what I saw in that neighborhood well.

Evli misin?

The days passed quickly and every two days I did a new shopping trip. The eyes never ceased to stare each time. On my way back one morning I noticed that there was a long line waiting for bread. Perhaps this wasn’t a dangerous neighborhood but a poor one. There were several times where I had been forced to speak in the shop and now there were whispers of “yabanci” when I walked by. “Yabanci” means foreigner. Yet, at this time I was no longer worried, in the daylight and on the main road I was sure nothing would happen now.

A sign that sinks most hearts

The flight was delayed a bit and I began to converse with the teacher who was currently on the ship “Osman” where I would soon be going. As I texted him and other people from the company, it hadn’t registered yet that I would be leaving soon, as I got used to the hotel and the road and the shop.

I’m sure this food tastes great, but I hate the time itself

However, that day did come; I had the flight time ready. I would need to leave the hotel at five A.M. and catch a flight at six fifty-five A.M. I hated waking up that early and was tempted to just stay up all night, but I knew even two or three hours of sleep would feel better than zero. I went down to the reception and told them of the details, they responded saying that they would be ready with a taxi at five fifteen.

A dark road road, so beautiful. It’s too bad you have to wake up early to see it.

I rolled out of bed around four thirty and had a quick breakfast. I ate the rest of the strawberry yogurt and put the rest of my things in my bags. I checked everything in the hotel to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything and then grabbed my bag and the key and headed to the reception area. There was a man waiting for me as promised and we headed to the airport. I hated being up this early but there was a gratifying feeling about it. Driving through the dark cool air, when most people were sleeping. We arrived and I went through the multiple security check areas and before I knew it, I was in the sky again. Flying to a new city.

The 10 most annoying people you will meet abroad

Sit down kid.

In today’s blog, I will introduce you to 10 annoying tourist/expat types I have met. They are annoying to me, perhaps you are one of them, or enjoy being around them. No offense taken, we all have different personalities and styles. These are in no particular order.

The explainer

We have all been introduced to the concept of the “mansplainer” quite recently. While abroad, the “explainers” are usually male but once in awhile they can be female too. They are usually aged 30+ and will tell you about things you aren’t even interested in, over explain a question, or force their own theory or life philosophy on you.

The camera champion

We all love photos don’t we? Not as much as this guy/girl. They take photos of everything. They often bring an expensive camera everywhere and take 100-500 pictures a day. It is as if they can’t enjoy a location or country without snapping 1000 shots.

The cultural copy cat

Look at these cute cats, which one do you think is the native and which one is the copy cat? The copy cat is on the left. They know everything about the country/culture, perhaps more than a native. They usually gain fluency quite rapidly and want to blend in with the country so far that it will be impossible to tell they aren’t originally from that country. There is nothing wrong with a little bit of pandering, but these copy cats have gone in deep. They will also try to make other expats feel bad that they haven’t gone as far as them.

The social Chameleon

These expats want to be friends with everyone, even if they are friends with two different groups who hate each other. They go to the extent of holding back their own opinion, just so that everyone will like them. This usually has a negative effect. as they are seen as being fake.

The History buff

There’s nothing wrong with loving history, I for one love it too. However, these “history buffs” take it to a whole new level. There is rarely a moment where they stop discussing the history of the country. They love going to historical sites, but that is not the only place where they flaunt their expertise. They will also mention people who visited or did different things at certain locations. Such as a restaurant, shop, district etc. There is no stopping them. Their talent is endless.

Nostalgic dude

In fact, I’ve never met a woman like this, so that’s why I call it “dude”. Usually they have lived in the country or visited it frequently over a course of 5-15 years. They have seen many changes and most of their conversations revolve around the past and how the country or city used to be. I have personally met a few who lived in a country for 5, 7, 14, and 20 years. While it is nice to learn about how the country used to be, at some point you have to move on from the past.

The political activist

I enjoy discussing politics, and I feel if you don’t then you are missing out. However, these activists come in two forms. A.) They find a way to fit politics into almost every conversation. B.) They bring their politics from the west and try to influence the said culture. Often, getting involved with protests, putting their life in harms way, or getting involved with politics that they have no business meddling with.

It’s hard to say which one is more annoying but both are wise to be avoided in my opinion.

The chronic complainer

Obviously, I am complaining in this blog post (in a way). I think it is ok to complain. No country is perfect (including yours). That being said, constantly complaining is annoying. Stop it! Stop right now!

The traveler

We all have our own styles. The traveler is no different. They spend little time in one place. When they visit a country or live in a country they visit as many cities and locations as possible. Spending almost no time there or really getting to know the area. For me, I am less annoyed at them and more sad for them. In my opinion they do not get to know a country or culture that well.

The ultra-mega optimist

“This country is perfect” they might say. In my experience, these people are usually married, engaged or have a boyfriend/girlfriend in the country. This kind of gives them a biased view towards the country, as they have a guide and a large group (the significant other’s family) who are hospitable towards them much longer than a normal tourist or expat would be experiencing hospitality. You can’t criticize the country in front of this person. Because the country “is perfect” and they will argue with you, letting you know how/why. In my experience, they aren’t always married or involved with some one romantically, but they usually are. It also worth noting that not all married/engaged expats in different countries are like this.

That’s it!

Thanks for reading! if you made it through the list, let me know what you think about these types of expats and if you agree/disagree with me on them. At times I have been one of these expats too! So of course we can’t judge too much.