I don’t like hot, crowded places and I don’t like to let other people drive. And yet, here I was, weaving in and out of traffic on a hot, crowded Dolmus, on the Asian side of Istanbul, with a nearsighted madman at the wheel…. and I was smiling. Something was wrong with me.
First, they call this little bus a “dolmus” because just like the Turkish and Greek dish, “dolmus” (that grape leaf thing they fill with rice)…they keep packing it until it is stuffed. And this little blue bus was stuffed today.
As you walk or drive through the city of Istanbul you can’t help but notice the thousands of Dolmus’ competing for passengers and lanes on the crowded roads. If you miss one at a bus stop you only have to wait a few seconds until 3 or 4 more race to the curb to pick you up…or pack you in.
Designed for 14 passengers, this dolmus had over 25 people in it. The windows were closed and nobody seemed to realize that we were all close to asphyxiation but me. I tried to open the window next to me but it was held fast by a bolt. It had to be 95 degrees in this hot little box and nobody cared.
In fact they were bundled up in jackets, scarves and sweaters. I was wearing my new safari shirt, (and looking very “adventurish”) and I was still dripping wet.
From somewhere in the back I heard the small voice of Stanley, our 10 year old boy, I heard him talking to someone but couldn’t see him. He had been caught in the wave of boarding passengers and ended up behind me. Eventually I caught sight of him sitting on the backrow with 3 big Turks. One of them was an elderly man dressed in a suit, he was sitting next to Stanley with his big arm around my son’s shoulders.
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