Wednesday, July 23, 2008

About a Rat

Last night as İ lay in my hotel room watching a concert of traditional Turkish music on the television, a rat walked in to watch it with me. İt was a hot night, and İ had left the door and window open, hoping to catch a breeze. There is a light on the landing that turns on whenever someone walks past. As İ was wearing nothing but my boxer shorts, my first thought was that İ should cover myself up when the light turned on. İ sat up to see who was in the doorway, and it was then that İ saw my furry friend scurrying in to join me.

The little creature, who quickly decided it was safest to enjoy the concert from underneath my bed, triggered a bout of panic and uncertainty that was quickly to spread through the hotel. İ sat bolt upright on my bed pondering a number of questions. Could İ just ignore it? What is the Turkish for "rat"? Would it dare climb into bed with me? Would it go away if İ turned the music off? Finally: how can İ reach my clothes without touching the floor?

Two minutes later İ was at the front desk trying to explain the situation to the receptionist. İ knew İ had got through when a look of shocked recognition passed across his face and he said uneasily: "what do you want me to do about it?" "İ don't know", İ said, "but a rat is not the same thing as a mouse". For some reason that seemed conclusive, and he reached for the telephone. As İ wondered if he could possibly be calling İstanbul pest control at 10pm, the boss appeared. Here was not a man to be trifled with. Tall and overbearing, he had seemed less and less friendly ever since İ took the room, sometimes even ignoring me when İ said hello. And here İ was semi-clothed in his hotel trying to mimic the movements of a rat.

İt was quickly decided that İ would have a different room; meanwhile the receptionist was sent to my old room with what looked like a broomstick. Then the evening became a lot less pleasant. The Kazakh woman who cleans my room was summoned and shouted at for leaving the balcony door open. İ pointed out that the rat came from the landing, not the so-called balcony, which was in any case just an optimistic name for a fire escape ladder. Then she was shouted at for leaving food around the hotel, and not cleaning the kitchen properly.

İ felt uneasy and guilty and then remembered how, the day before when she had changed a lightbulb in my room, her hands had been shaking so much that she had dropped the bulb and it shattered on the floor. She had seemed so unsettled and had apologised so incessantly that İ offered her a Turkish delight, which unfortunately she mistook for rubbish and put in the bin. When İ offered her another one, she smiled and opened her mouth. Not knowing what else to do, İ put it in. Then she had heard the boss shouting again and rushed quickly away.

Now the shouting continued as İ cleared my room. İ picked up my belongings, thinking about the rat and the boss and feeling responsible for his bullying. Another woman who cleans the hotel stood with me and asked where İ was from. "From England". "İ am from Turkmenistan", she said. "What is it like there?" İ asked. "Very beautiful", she said, then paused as if wanting me to understand something different or expecting me to disagree with her. "Of course there is no money and no work", she said. "That is why we come here".

1 comment:

sallasariola said...

Hey Paul,

sounds like you're having a great time!!! Your blog makes me laugh - the way you write is so funny! Keep it up and enjoy yourself!!