PORTAKAL SUYU

freshy squezeed orange juice for 1tl (40 cents) is not just an orange juice if it's served together with a story from a syrian guy, waiting for his visa to france. 
'how did you come to istanbul?' 'i escaped two months ago.'
'how will you go to europe if your visa request is rejected again?' 'illegally.'

i look at him with my eyes wide open and listen to his story, it's not the first syrian story i hear, but still, i'm admiring his voice not shaking while talking about the things he is confronting.

'do you work here every day?'  (we're talking at the kebab restaurant:)
'i used to but now they cannot pay me full-time job anymore because there is not enough profit. so i offered them to work three hours per day for free (11pm - 2am) in return for food and place to stay. i also teach arabic in the morning and sometimes work at the construction site in the afternoon. there is big one in tarlabaşi, you know.

(tarlabaşi is a neighbourhood i live in and about which i'll tell you more next time)

sveže stisnjen pomarančni sok za komaj 40 centov nima samo okusa po pomarančah, sploh če je postrežen skupaj z zgodbo sirijskega begunca, ki čaka na francosko vizo.
'kako si prišel sem?' 'pred dvema mesecema sem pobegnil iz svoje države'
kako boš šel v evropo, če ti prošnjo za vizo zopet zavrnejo?' 'ilegalno.'

gledam ga s široko odprtimi očmi, ni prva sirijska zgodba, ki jo slišim, pa vendar, njegov glas se ne trese, ko govori o stvareh, katere je videl doma in s katerimi se sooča sedaj.

'ali vsak dan delaš tu?' (pogovarjava se v kebab restavraciji:)
'na začetku sem, zdaj pa me ne morejo več redno plačevati, ker ni dovolj prometa. ponudil sem jim, da delam tri ure na dan zastonj (od 11h zvečer do 2h zjutraj) v zameno za hrano in prenočišče. dopoldne poučujem arabski jezik in popoldne včash delam na enem izmed večjih gradbišč v bližini, tarlabaşi, mogoče si slišala, kaj se dogaja.'

(tarlabaşi je predel mesta, v katerem živim in o katerem bom še pisala)