“Careful, this one’s very heavy,” I said, dragging yet another tourist’s suitcase to the bus driver.
He looked at me blankly. I blinked back at him, then rallied. (Come ON, Anna! Just try!, I muttered to myself) I cleared my throat. Pointed at the case.

“Çok ağır” I said, carefully sounding out the new words.
He looked delighted. He laughed, “çok ağır!” and hoisted the case up.
It was my first try at speaking Turkish. After a week of working as a holiday rep in Marmaris, I’d become desperate to get out of the English bubble. With those two words, it popped. I was off.

“Çok” or “very” became a handy word. So did “şöyle böyle” – pronounced sort of like “churly burly” – with an accompanying hand gesture. It meant “so-so,” and when I answered street vendors, bus drivers or Turkish holiday reps with “şöyle böyle,” it lit them up. It told them I was trying, that I wanted to connect. And I truly, truly did.

This happened in the late 90s, so Google Translate or language apps were far in the future. We didn’t even have phrasebooks to learn with. I had a few words thrown my way by my predecessor Big Rob, very patient Turkish colleagues, and – crucially – the coach drivers.
Every Monday, we drove to the airport to fetch the next round of tourists, an 8-hour round trip with nothing else to do. They spoke barely any English, and my Turkish was initially non-existent, but on every trip, I learned more.
My little work team of three had the same spirit. We’d venture out into the markets, cafes, and bars and try our best to communicate.

With a few Turkish words, we could access amazing Turkish pide for office lunches and stroll to corner bakeries to get fresh bread, tomatoes, and salty white cheese for breakfast. We’d skip the buffet that our guests ate and enjoy our food with the hotel staff, learning more about the language and culture each time.

I was so proud of going somewhere utterly foreign but being able to communicate. I loved how happy people got when I tried out my Turkish. I could have easily not bothered and instead stuck to the people, language, and food that I already knew. But I was driven by curiosity, excitement, and a drive for that basic human need: connection.

Photo from 27 Oct 1999, after eating breakfast with the housekeeping staff at one of my hotels, the Flamingo Apartments, Marmaris.