Accountability and Bureaucracy

Learning more about Turkey than intended

Our trip was so nice in Malta, courtesy of our amazing hosts Andy and Kate. We slid into the airport early Sunday morning, ready for the two hour flight back to Istanbul, then ten hours to DC.

Then reality hit.

No information why we were delayed. None. Information would embue accountability which no one desired.

Turkish Airlines departed Malta three hours late so we missed the connection, the sole daily connection, to Dulles. It is bound to happen as frequently as we fly.

Ok, flights operating in the EU must offer certain consumer protections. I just said the EU which strikes fear in the heart of many when it comes to bureaucracy.

Inquiries on where we needed proceed received arm waves in an undetermined direction.

The horror show (and my husband would tell you I really am cutting through some of the kvetching upfront) began. We had to pay 30 Yankee Dollar cash each for a visa to get to the hotel.

The hotel desk for Turkish was outside Customs but where? After wandering, we located it but asking for help was hard as no one seemed to know beyond the big wave.

The line of minimally 500 (no hyperbole this time) wound through the pickup hall at Istanbul Airport. Turns out Istanbul is a much bigger connection airport for the world than I imagined and they had de facto shut the place down for high winds yesterday morning. And, like much of the world, they do not cool the airport pickup area.

Turkey is an emergent power so they are proud of accountability and institutional responsibility. Plus, the EU is the world’s most intensive bureaucracy on everything (surely a reason Britain opted out?). What could go wrong? The pace is fixing things for all these people was slower than glacial.but it is documented.

I suggested my husband seek a seat as he doesn’t need stand through what looked like a four hour wait. I moved about 10 yards in forty-five minutes.

Someone from the Airlines realizes the disaster, took this on, and pulled a bunch of us out of line. Great! Until he kept going further behind, into the always increasing line snaking its way across the pickup hall. He took some gaggle of us downstairs about 15 minutes later but without any other bureaucracy.

The bus was utterly maxed out but the man could count. No one stood.

Promising!

The hotel was completely overwhelmed but had to adhere to the accountability so one poor guy keyed in all of our ticket information per individual so Turkish Airlines knew what time we needed check out so they can collect us for the flights we are on today.

The masses became an entitled mob. When we arrived my husband and I were easily 20 years older than anyone else (the next bus load an hour later included our hair colour). The woman next to me in a completely body hugging outfit with no sleeves (she did have one inch fake eyelashes that curled like a drag queen’s but since I could see every body curve I knew she was a she) who used ‘like’ four times in every sentence. Or the foursome speaking a Euro language I did not know pushing together to the increasing fury of the woman to my right trying to start an incident about their actions. They giggled. Or the guy telling everyone he had a 6 am flight. Or the Russian who flew in from Brussels but was on his way to Myanmar; he was tallest, however, so he could sort of see to give running commentary of the proceedings.

One hour and forty-five minutes later, after I finally invoked my best suitcase gladiator stance, I made fought to the desk. We had a room!!!

I initially thought at 2245 that dinner far too late until I realized my weakness was from not eating so we entered the restaurant. The head dude not only had water (which I had not had since early out of Malta) he would dispense for a fee, but he offered pasta with tomato sauce when I said I wanted only the rice and fries rather than meat. Such a nice man. He also ventured in to see a couple of times if we were ok. Nice chap in our day.

Oh, and the restaurant had a pretty gray and white cat wandering to my left. Not your average American hotel restaurant, obviously.

I slept like a champ, I am so happy to say. My husband seems, to quote our Malta friends, chipper today. Should have invoked Scarlett O’Hara last night: ‘Tomorrow is another day’.

Retelling it now doesn’t sound nearly as bad as it felt but we are safe, we slept, we have a reservation today, and we are together.

Is there really anything more important? Seriously.

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Be well and be safe. FIN