The airport in Ankara, where my plane touched down, bore no resemblance to Istanbul's bustling hub. It lacked the grandeur and the sea of travelers. Instead, I found myself amidst a sparse crowd, mostly arrivals, not a single soul appearing to be on the verge of departure. Ankara welcomed newcomers, but it wasn't in a hurry to bid adieu to anyone.
In those initial moments of setting foot in the capital city, I jumped to a series of hasty conclusions-judgments that would soon prove laughably inaccurate.
First, I was convinced that Ankara boasted a milder climate compared to Istanbul. Second, I assumed the city's population was modest, perhaps barely touching the one million mark. Third, I presumed Ankara's geographical footprint was compact, easy to navigate. Fourth, I had the misguided notion that it was an enclave reserved for the wealthy. Fifth, I believed Çorum, my ultimate destination, lay tantalizingly close to Ankara. Lastly, I was convinced that striking up conversations with Ankara's residents would be a chilly endeavor, a seemingly aloof bunch.
Amusing, isn't it? I admit, my assessments were as far off the mark as they come. Only the first one, about the weather, held any grain of truth. The rest were, in fact, the polar opposites.
With the relentless grip of jet lag starting to take hold, I yearned for a way to reach Çorum, where I could finally hit the hay. Maneuvering my rollaboard luggage, I extended the retractable handles and dragged my belongings across the airport's expanse, steering towards the eastern exit gate.
I stood before the wide automatic exit doors of the airport, which opened just as I approached. With meticulous care, I dragged my luggage through the opening and surged forward. However, a realization struck me like a sudden gust of wind: I needed to inquire about the location of the bus station that would take me to Çorum.
Fortunately, a man was lurking around the corner. Confidence welled up in me, thanks to my successful conversation with people at Istanbul Airport. Still, a lingering doubt reminded me of my earlier conclusion about the people in Ankara being reserved and distant. This time, I chose to ignore that doubt and approached the man.
"Hello, sir. I hope you are fine," I said, forcing a smile to appear cheerful.
"He-llo. No English," he replied with a hint of pity in his eyes.
I was taken aback and confused by his inability to speak or understand English. "No English" would soon become a phrase I'd grow accustomed to. It would define most of my encounters here.
"Ehen!" I realized that I had downloaded the Google Translate offline app on my phone before leaving Lagos, thanks to a YouTube video on "what to do before coming to Turkiye." I pulled out my phone, about to use the Google Translate app, but then I remembered I had only downloaded Turkish for offline use. The man before me didn't seem to be a Turkish speaker either; he was definitely from Southeast Asia. I couldn't download his language, as I was without internet access and hadn't yet acquired a Turkish SIM card.
"Ahhh! What am I gonna do now?" I thought in frustration.
Just as I pondered my next step, I spotted a counter with the bold inscription, "WELCOME, TURKIYE BURSLARI STUDENTS."
"Thank you, God," I muttered and hurried toward the counter. Turkiye Burslari had provided the scholarship that brought me to Turkiye for my studies, and seeing their counter was a tremendous relief. It meant that my problems might be solved.
I approached the counter where a young Turkish man, probably in his twenties, sat browsing his phone.
"Hello, sir. I'm Ugo," I said, diverting his attention from his phone.
"Ugo, how are you doing?" The man asked with a cheerful smile, putting his phone away.
"I'm fine, sir. Thank you. What about you?" I replied quickly.
"I'm fine too, Ugo. How may I help you?" he asked almost immediately. "How may I help you" was precisely what I needed to hear, the question that could lead me to a bus to Çorum within minutes, I hoped.
"Okay, sir. I'm a scholarship student, and I'm looking for directions to the bus station to get to Çorum," I said in a more relaxed tone.
"Oh... Çorum," he began explaining how to get to the bus station, speaking rapidly. I couldn't grasp the directions clearly, so I politely asked him to repeat them, careful not to irritate him. I mean, nobody likes repeating themselves, right?
"Hahaha... I speak too fast. I know. Some of my friends say I'm crazy. Am I crazy?" he replied with a question.
"No," I replied with a fake smile, but deep down, I agreed with his friends. I couldn't understand why I was being asked about his sanity instead of directions to the bus station. He repeated the directions, this time a bit slower, though I still struggled due to the Turkish names in the directions. At least, I knew where to begin. I thanked him and made my way to a minibus park around the corner.
As I walked to the minibus park, I noticed several boys and some very attractive girls, seemingly my age, deeply engrossed in smoking. I was taken aback; I could understand boys smoking, but I couldn't fathom why these girls, especially the pretty ones, would smoke. I used to think that pretty girls didn't smoke.
"Wetin be my own?" I muttered in creole and continued walking, trying to ignore them. I followed the man's directions, and in no time, I found myself on board a minibus that took me to the bus station. However, because I hadn't understood the directions clearly, I didn't know which bus to take at the bus station. After using Google Translate, I explained my situation to a couple of drivers who helped me purchase a ticket and informed me that the bus would depart once it was full.
While waiting, I spotted two groups of Black people. The first group consisted of two boys and three girls who seemed oblivious to my presence-a rare sight as a Black person like them in the midst of a multitude of non-Blacks. The other group was a man who didn't hesitate to strike up a conversation with me. The problem was that he spoke French, and my proficiency was limited to basic phrases like "Je m'appelle Ugo. Je suis nigérian. Je suis étudiant."
About an hour later, I boarded the bus, and it set off, half-empty. I took advantage of the bus's open Wi-Fi to inform my family and friends that I was still alive and en route to my destination. During this time, I struck up a friendship with a fellow passenger, despite our language barrier. He was a helpful guy, though he offered me cigarettes and was a bit disappointed when I declined. I had to fib and say I was fasting to get him to withdraw his request cheerfully, wishing me "Good luck."
Contrary to my earlier assumption, Çorum was not a stone's throw from Ankara; it was a three-hour journey. I gazed out the window, taking in the breathtaking Turkish countryside with its sprawling mountains, lush vegetation, and winding rivers. Exactly three hours later, I arrived in Çorum and took a taxi to my dormitory, where I was met with a multitude of surprised faces and incredibly helpful people. They appeared shocked to see someone different-a Black person-yet eager to assist me in any way possible.
I completed my registrations and made my way to the room assigned to me. "Now, time to sleep," I thought, a sense of happiness filling me up.
Before I could complete that thought, four boys entered the room, all visibly surprised. They were friendly and introduced themselves. I soon learned that three of them would be my roommates. However, the unexpected occurred when their friend, who wasn't going to be my roommate, jokingly asked me, "Kaç cm?"
"Ehn?" I replied, utterly confused.
He pulled out his phone, translated to English, and put it in front of my face, giggling.
It was then that I realized he was asking about the size of my penis. Shocked and distraught, I couldn't find words to respond for a moment. He repeated the question, "Kaç cm?"
This time, I managed to muster, "I don't know." Fortunately, my new roommates pushed him out of the room, muttering words I couldn't understand at the time. I couldn't speak any Turkish. Once he was gone, I lay down on my bed like a log of iroko tree and fell asleep almost immediately.