A Truck Trip From Belgium To Turkey. Day 3

The more we approach to the East, the more the rules become less strict. 

When we come closer to the Czech Republic, Çağdaş starts to get nervous. ‘’In this area, the cops and

officers always stop Turkish trucks to control and they don’t let you to continue your way without bribe. They always try to find a mistake.’’ We’re hoping that this it won’t be like this but when we’re approaching to the border, we see a police car. Çağdaş prepared the money in his pocket. The polis officer says; ‘’Hi’’ in Turkish. Çağdaş tries to look funny. He starts to say everything he knows about Czech Republic such as Milan Baros, Prague, Dobra… He wants to impress the police officer. All the controls are done but the police can’t find even a little missing thing. Çağdaş gives them some grapes and two big black figs. The policemen feel happy. Succeeding his job, Çağdaş starts to speak joyfully and explains;

“communication is very important”.  And he also makes self-criticism saying; ‘’they are right in some ways because Turkish drivers don’t want to obey the rules.’’

When we were on the way, we receive a call and learn that Ahmet has had an accident on the Hungarian border. There are little scratches on Ahmet’s truck. He tells the story with lots of curses and swears. After a short while, he forgets all the things just happened. We leave the trucks behind and walk through the jungle to exchange Hungarian money with better price. Çağdaş smiles

and says; “nobody can cheat and overcharge the truck drivers”. I understand how difficult the drivers are making their money and how important to protect it. Ahmet states that he is not allowed to follow the same route with us because he’s transporting flammable material.  But he doesn’t give up. He turns off the sign on the truck that states he’s transporting flammable material and comes with us. He says ‘’Le eri’’ (who cares). I understand that Ahmet can’t finish a sentence without making jokes and swearing. During his speech and I am filming he hides his cigarette. I am surprised, and I ask the reason. He answers, because smoking is a shame. It’s an unusual paradox. Before we move, one Iranian driver asks Çağdaş in Turkish which way he should follow. Çağdaş helps him and writes the ways in a paper

and warns him; don’t write incorrect things on your papers. Hungarians don’t forgive even a little mistake. The man feels thankful. When we hit the road again towards Budapest. Çağdaş’s face starts to shine with a smile. He feels good because he has helped someone today.

The weather is very hot. There are lots of snacks around Çağdaş. He can reach any of them with his tall hand; Fruit, water, yogurt, biscuits. He changes the music or looks at his phone. He reads funny texts coming from his friends. Syrian singer,

Semira Tevfik’s Hub el Esmer Ceneni (The love of the brunette makes me crazy) song starts. He sings the song loudly. Çağdaş is funny and lively guy. Çağdaş; “without this, our lives would be just a total shit. Afterwards, he tells the story of transporting goods for his villagers that live in Germany, Belgium and England.

Darkness arrives slowly. Tiredness and haste starts.

Parking areas are not enough and of course they aren’t clean, large and comfortable enough as they are in Germany. We find a parking place before entering Budapest. We break the rules and park in a not allowed area with Ahmet, just near the fountain. In the darkness. One man and sex worker comes to a restaurant. Another poor-looking man asks money from us. He is homeless and he has

nobody. Çağdaş gives him food and money. The man washes the truck with his old, worn and dirty clothes. Çağdaş; “look at the guy, he seems to be very poor but his German is very good’’ ‘’ I feel peaceful when I help this kind of people.

We open our kitchen. While Çağdaş fries the potatoes, I fill the truck’s water tank. Ahmet prepares the table but during this time he continues to his jokes and swears. The dinner is ready. Another truck driver Cengiz from Erzincan comes. They hug tightly. The conversation starts. ‘’ I’ve been a driver for 20 years. Actually, it’s not a hard job but sometimes we have to wait on Kapıkule border for two days. In addition, our children grow up without us. Çağdaş says yes and he feels upset. He continues to tell;

‘’I have 22 and 20 year-old one girl and one boy. They have been raised by their mother. I haven’t done anything to raise them except giving them Money. I haven’t had the chance even to take them to a park, cinema or a theatre play. It’s painful but there is nothing to do’’ When we talk, Çağdaş’s phone rings. They are Çağdaş’s children Zihni (9) and Ali Emin (8). His retired truck driver dad and his mother make video call. Çağdaş says; son, 25 days left only.  Mom starts to pray;’’God save you’’ Çağdaş kisses everyone and continues to drive.

Cengiz invites me for a short walk in the darkness. After short time, we begin to watch the lights of Tatabania from the hill of the valley. Cengiz’s mood changes and he starts to talk about his children with a pride. ‘’My son has just finished industrial engineering program at  University. My

daughter continues to study at the college. After she finishes the college, I’ll be retired. And I’ll move from Istanbul to my village in Çağlayan, Erzincan. I’ll make a house between woods and mountains. I’ll have a garden. I’ll start to grow vegetables. Haricot bean is famous in my hometown. He looks at the hills and asks; “have you ever eaten trout in Çağlayan waterfall?”  I say; “yes, trout with butter in a tile”. He smiles. I ask what is the difference between the past and now in this job? He says ‘’everything’’ He continous to tell and he fells upset. ‘’The roads, trucks, stations are better now but relations are bad. In the past, when someone had any problems on the roads, everyone used to stop and help. Now, it’s not like that. Nonetheless, solidarity continues between our friends.’’ Çağdaş continues. ‘’ Cengiz shakes his head.

We wash our feet and brushes the teeth first time at the fountain after a long time. We go back to the

trucks.  Time to sleep. We have to make 10 hours on the road the next day. Bulgaria is waiting for us. We cant wait to read to the camp area for trucks to swim and have dinner at an Antakya restaurant. I close the door and go into the bed. The sound of the water dripping comes from the fountain. I look outside from window. The poor guy is sitting on the rock and smoking thinkfully.

Translated from Turkish By Berdan Sönmez