Drama Drama Drama

Our arrival back in Malatya was stressful to say the least.  I received an email from Onder on Monday saying that despite our warnings, A kept (unknowingly) revealing himself to the neighbours.  This is not something you do in Turkey and they were terminating his contract.  I felt bad for him, but was also relieved he would be gone.  When A got home from work that day, he showed me the email he received from Mr. Yalcin (apparently it was beneath Onder to fire him himself) and so I helped him out a bit, emailing Mr. Yalcin and saying that he would leave but expected to be compensated.  There was much drama, as they initially refused to pay him- slowly relenting, but even then, unwilling to pay him the full amount he was due.  I told A to be firm, and he arranged a meeting with Onder for the next day at 6pm and asked me if I would sit in on the meeting, which I agreed to.  Tuesday rolled around, bringing many classes for me (as I now had to cover A’s classes) that I had no time to prepare for- not my favourite way to teach, but alas.  I hung around the school when they finished and tried to figure out how to ‘apostille’ a document for my upcoming job in Kazakhstan.  I got Ali to call around Malatya, but learned they would only apostille it if it was translated into Turkish- which was of course no use to me.  I called the Canadian Embassy in Ankara, but as Canada is not a member of the Hague convention, they don’t apostille but rather use a different process, which I was unsure would work.  I emailed the school in Kazakhstan and awaited a response.

By about 5 o’clock, A showed up and we waited for Onder.  He showed up at 6 on the dot, and the two of us went into his office.  He asked me to leave, but I stood my ground and eventually he relented- very unhappy about it.  He yelled at A for a good fifteen minutes- repeating his infractions, informing us that the neighbour had pulled out a gun and threatened to kill him (apparently his wife stopped him), that the neighbours had instead called the police and signed a petition to get him out, occasionally lying a little, bringing up Joe and myself more frequently than I would have thought necessary, and being highly unprofessional about the entire situation.  Despite his temper, A did very well, barely speaking (he was barely given the opportunity to) and it ended uncomfortably with Onder giving him the full amount he was due, and then saying he never wanted to see him again.  He also told me that I was very impolite and that this was none of my business, to which I responded that it most certainly was my business as Onder had made it my business by telling me A was fired before a knew.  He said he would not make that mistake again, and I shrugged and left.  There was no use in explaining while he was this angry, but nothing he could threaten me with as I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Some of the mess- note the banana peel.

We made it home (A cursing him and saying he would “f**ing kill him,” to which I responded firmly that he most certainly would not.  I booked him a ticket on my credit card (as he had no way of getting a ticket), asked him to clean his room before he left, and telling him to be ready by 8am the next day so I could show him where the bus left from.  Joe was also not pleased, genuinely concerned by the knowledge that our neighbour had a gun and would shoot if offended, and resolved to mention this to Onder upon first sight.  I thought it best to avoid him for awhile, yet act as though nothing had happened.

Watermelon juice caked on the floor.

A was ready by 8:15 the next morning- his room uncleaned and disgusting, but I didn’t make a fuss, rather walked him out.   The security guard  politely addressed me as we left, asking me (in Turkish) if he was gone, to which I answered yes and that was the last we saw of him.  Joe, true to his word, brought up the neighbour to Onder, who responded that the neighbours had no problem with us and that everything was fine.  Later on in the day, we both stopped in to talk to him.  He again said that he had been surprised by my behaviour, but as he was now calm, I informed him that I had done him many favours.  I had a key made, the sheets washed, the room cleaned, put money on the bus card, showed him around town and explained the teaching style at the school, all for the school and A’s comfort.  That Joe and I were equally displeased by the situation, but as we had had to live with him, we didn’t understand why he was more upset than us.    That after all those favours, when A asked me to do him one (so he wouldn’t lose his temper) I obliged, and that while I hadn’t meant to offend him, I wouldn’t have changed my actions.  Onder both thanked me and apologized (both shocked me beyond words) and all was back to normal.

He offered to have Dogan and Wakas (whose name he forget, pissing off both Joe and I, as Wakas has been their errand man for three years) to help me clean, but the thought of having two men in their fifties scrubbing my floors while I watched sickened me, and I declined saying I would buy some beer and do it myself.

Thursday, I did just that- finishing my classes and scrubbing floor, washing sheets, and wiping the muddy footprints off the floor (only just realizing that they were urine infused as he didn’t wear the special shoes when he used the squat toilet) and a good three hours later, managed to make the house liveable again.  Yasar (a lovely boss) didn’t need to be asked, simply arranged for all our carpets to be washed professionally (which I am currently waiting for their pick up as I type this). 

In regards to the apostille, upon calling companies in the UK (they won’t do it) BC (they charge $850 which was a stressful number) and a company in Ottawa ($250), I have sent off my documents (with the lovely help of Dogan who accompanied me to the post office- it is easier to understand him as he uses simple language for me and most Turks don’t know how to talk to foreigners, yelling at them rather than simplifying their speech) and eagerly await the next step in the process.  A long week.