I'm still sick as it is now so doubt I'll go into much details in this post. Basically I didn't enjoy my N.Cyprus trip at all... The only close contact to a Turkish Cypriot I've had was my cab driver. Though English is more widely spoken there than in Istanbul, I think the people of Istanbul are far more friendlier and approachable.
My cab driver, Camil, drove me to Nicosia from Lefkosia airport. He tried to make conversation with me in his limited English and likewise, I did the same with my utterly pathetic Turkish. After Camil dropped me off at Nicosia, I asked him if he can pick me up at half past 4 to send me back to the airport and he readily agreed. Why wouldn't he...It's 40+lira per trip!
Like I mentioned before, I was merely walking around in the heavy rain, not finding anything nice or interesting to buy. There were some small and humble cafes there, barely with anyone around. At times, there'll be some over friendly waiters who'd shout at me from afar in halting English, asking me to have tea at their cafes. They were mostly filled with men and I just politely declined, sometimes it can be a curse to be a female foreigner travelling alone. I spent my next two hours in an internet cafe.
At 4pm, I left the internet cafe and decided to make my way to the venue where I was suppose to meet Camil, my cab driver. On my way there, I heard someone shouting, "Hello!!! HELLO!!!!" I turned and there Camil was, outside a cafe, waving at me to come over. He was having his lunch there and I decided to join him cos I was just famished. We ate in silence, conscious of our differences in languages and limitations of communication. But despite that, I was happy for his company. I was just happy to eat silently in his company, he was like a father figure in some ways like how he pulled my arm when I was standing too near the road or how he just nudge me to look at the news flash on tv in the cafe on the flooded areas in Cyprus.
Father figure or not, he still did try to cheat me of 10 lira when we reached the airport! haha... He asked for 50lira and I sulked in disapproval. I gestured wildly with my hands on how I paid 40 lira to go Nicosia and how can it be 50 lira to go back tot he airport from the place he first dropped me off. He grunted and agreed to let me pay 40 lira. He then tapped my shoulder and said sorry. I smiled and touched my heart to show my appreciation and said 'Tessekur ederim (thank you) Camil'. He then passed me his namecard and asked me to call him next time I visit N.Cyprus again...(err never?).
In the aiport, my flight back was delayed. Announcements were all made in Turkish. It was a very small terminal and I was going from one end to another cos there was no gate number information on my ticket thus whenever there was a queue, I dragged my backpack along to wherever the queue was just to check if it was indeed my flight. I thought I got smarter when I simply sat down and relied on the flight information on the tvs there. My flight was delayed to 20:05 and it was 20:00, there were still no updated information on the screen. Announcements were still made in Turkish and my eyes stayed glued to the screen, waiting for my gate info to appear. Nothing.
For some reason, my gut instincts told me to go to the security officers to enquire. I walked over to them and was stunned to see my flight number flashing at one of the gates! For gawds sake, flight information wasn't updated on the television screen, announcements were all done in Turkish, how on earth could I know when it was time for me to board?!! I passed my boarding pass to the security and he said something through his walkie talkie and the whole lot of them gathered around me. They then told me to hurry up as the plane was leaving. I ran all the way to the flight of steps leading up to the plane. Everyone was there.
I was just darn pissed. It's like it's their own little world, it's not foreigner-friendly at all. When I got in the plane, the steward said in English,"We are all waiting for you." Everyone was staring at me. Wow. I caused the whole plane to delay.
I was so darn pissed, I just snapped,"I know, I know, I'm sorry ok! I just don't understand a single thing here and..." My voice just trailed off. What's the use really? What's the use of telling them or even bothering to explain? I'll end up looking like a deranged foreigner anyways. "It's ok, it's ok," the steward replied, kindly this time, perhaps noticing my exasperated look.
A kind man seated beside me helped me to store my heavy backpack on the top shelf. Thanking him, I retreated back to my seat as tears flowed down my cheeks. It was just horrible.
Back in the Istanbul airport, when it was my turn to have my passport stamped, the officer did the typical routine I've gotten used to - making calls, reading out my passport number to the other person on the line, forever taking ages to scan my passport and going through all the previous stamps I've had in my passport.
"Take off your hat, stand back and look at the camera," the officer ordered, interrupting my thoughts.
"I really have a bad hair day," I told the officer. Tough luck, so what, he's not gonna hand you a hair spray, idiot, I scolded myself. He didn't look amused too. I shrugged, took off my hat and my half straight-half curled hair (all the walking around in the rain in Cyprus ruined it!) sprang out in the most unglamourous way. There goes whatever remaining dignity I had, I thought. haha.... He must have pitied me for in a very dramatic way, he stamped really hard on my passport and passed it to me. I was grinning at this time and thanked him. 90 days!!! WOoohoo....
Was it all worth it? I don't know. I'm never gonna return back to Cyprus ever. That much I know.
