Oh yeah, I forgot to blog about my layover...
On a layover in Istanbul, something interesting happened that really encouraged me to focus on an old goal of mine.
I had about 3 hours to spare in this new huge airport. Okay, its not that huge, in fact after I washed up and shopped for some Turkish Delights (20 min)... it was pretty much nothing to do but wait. So after I walked through the airport for another 60 min, I took a seat to wait for my gate number to appear on the screen. A woman approached me speaking in-distinctively and shamefully annoyed, I simply shook away from her. A couple of minutes later I realized that she may have been trying to find her way to her own gate, Confused and a bit nervous... perhaps by the huge and possibly new airport and airport experience. I got up from my seat and walked over to her and asked her what she was looking for. Because of a readily obvious language difference all I could understand was "Addis Ababa". She was trying to get to her gate. Once, I realized I walked with her over to the screen where the gate number for Addis Ababa had just appeared. As I attempted to show her what she needed to do, another young woman approached.
Bonjour! Dakar.
At first I was taken aback. Puzzled for .4 seconds until I realized this woman was hoping for some assistance as well. She approached, but quickly reoriented herself when she noticed that I was confused and also probably because I was not West African. I looked at the screen. Ah. Dakar is Gate number 225. She seemed a bit anxious, most likely given the fact that her gate was now boarding. I pointed at the screen and said, "225". Of course, she didn't understand me, because Dakar is Frenchspeaking. Duh! I thought about it... and in my best french I said, "Deux... Deux... Cinq". Awful, I know. And for her, it didn't register. Something however, did because she looked up, grabbed her things, and bolted out. "Bon Voyage," I thought later... it happened so quickly.
Hmm..
I returned to assist with Addis Ababa, attempting to offer to show her to her gate, but something had changed. Somehow I no longer had her trust and she began to walk away slowly. Wait. I tried to convince her that we needed to get her to her gate and that I would walk with her. I am not sure how I was convincing her since we didn't speak the same language. I imagined a that she may be terrified, given I am a stranger.. and I could sell her into slavery or something from this very airport. Crazy, I know. But it could happen. At that moment, I looked up and she had vanished. Right into thin air.
It was at that moment... Okay, I won't be so dramatic... The entire ordeal made me think about how I need to focus and learn some freakin language other than English. I hope the two ladies caught their flights. Istanbul was indeed a lesson learned. It shall be done!
