A terminal encounter

“Why don’t you go some place civilized like Australia?”, 
“What’s wrong with  going someplace safe like England”, 
“Can’t you go to a non-Muslim country?”, 
“I’m going to be praying for you every day!”, 
“You do have a will, right?”

News of our trips has always brought reactions. We found that people who had been to Turkey themselves were usually thrilled to hear we were going and raved about it, eagerly offering recommendations and suggestions.

Those that had not been there typically reacted as if we had told them we were visiting Iraq or North Korea.

Turkey is not a hostile country, and is no less safe and has no more terrorist activity than any other European country, or even the U.S. Truth be known, it has been more of a challenge just to leave our country on this trip.

Between the three of us, we have already dealt with some injury, diarrhea and constipation. My finger was badly smashed in the plane lavatory and left a blood stain on my travel pants and Bryan was wearing two different drink spills on his pants, and all this before we even left the U.S. The rest we'll leave up to your imagination.

I won the award for the worst pre-trip experiences while still at O’Hair international airport. Having several hours to wait for our flight, we decided to rest in an airport lounge. We all have complimentary guest access to several executive lounges through our credit card benefits. I received a new one just a week prior to our trip. At the lounge Mark and Bryan were approved immediately and went in, but my card was declined. I actually had three different memberships to the same lounge and none were accepted. I spent about 20 minutes flipping through cards, photographs of my cards, documents, and websites. The final solution was that the clerk used the membership number from one card and the expiration date from another card, and somehow that worked. Of course that made no sense whatsoever. I was a nervous wreck at that point after watching person after person pass by while I stood at the desk continually being declined.

But even that experience was overshadowed by my run in with Helga, or as I have now renamed her, HELL-ga. We just learned about a WiFi gadget that would give us internet anywhere we travel without signing up for international plans or messing with SIM cards. I wanted to get one! They were available for purchase at the airport but only in a different terminal than the one we were in, so off I went.

The security process of getting in to the international terminal was extremely simple and very relaxed, so I naively exited the international terminal, boarded a train to a domestic terminal, and got in line at security. What happened next couldn’t have been a more different experience. 

This line moved much slower than the one at the international terminal. As I gradually approached the end of the checkpoint, I discovered why. There perched Helga the Horrible, the Hound of Hades! Crouched forward and slightly over her table, she resembled a gargoyle, fierce and menacing, and every bit molded from sandstone and bitterness. Her uni-brow and chiseled scowl immediately pierced the soul of any weary traveler with red blood in their veins. Definitely the kind of person I would want handing MY security, but certainly not the kind I would want to have a conflict with. 

She hardly looked up, and never spoke. Using only hand signs, she would direct one traveler at a time to approach her presence, where even the strongest traveler was smitten with trembling knees and a perspiring brow. This seemed to energize her. She was taking slow deep breaths, which to me looked as if she were inhaling their fear only to exhale it back on on the next poor soul.

I watched her intently, as did everyone in line. They all stood in silence, broken only by her slow rhythmic breathing that seemed to be sucking the life out of the room. After a careful examination of the travelers' boarding and identification cards, she would signal the prisoners toward their welcome release. 

Eventually I arrived to the front of the line. I was breathing slowly and deeply, trying to remember the techniques I’d learned in yoga to help me stay calm. Helga motioned at me with two fingers. The slight two finger motion was her sign for the next traveler to approach, a single finger directed them to move along. I approached with trepidation.

Her enlarged hand slowly unfurled it’s fingers like the powerful claws of a dragon reaching out for its prey. I quickly placed my documents in her grasp. She was satisfied and retreated her hand and stared at my boarding pass.

Then, without notice, she broke from her routine, her eyes widened. I was pretty sure I saw some smoke exiting her nose but at that point my eyes were a bit blurry so I couldn't tell for sure. Her large brow bowed in the middle and her eyes swiftly raised and locked onto mine. I gasped. She stared into my body with piercing eyes that touched my soul as if dousing a bonfire with rancid vinegar. "What is this!" she demanded. "Just what are you trying to pull by being here!" Her voice ripped through my body like someone had zapped me with a taser. I stuttered and stammered a bit "I-I just need to buy something at-at a 
s-store in this terminal." Her eyes narrowed, as did my throat. I obviously was not strong enough for her ancient Jedi mind tricks. Anyhow, she had already heard enough.

At that point it seemed the earth creaked and a rumbling noise rattled the teeth of everyone in line. But it wasn't an earthquake! Helga was rousing! She was moving! She was straightening up and then standing up! "You!" she scowled, pointing her crooked finger in my face, indicating for me to follow her. I could hardly move. Had this occurred while in Turkey, I know I would have been doomed to 20 years of hard labor at a concentration camp. I glanced up at the people in line, They were all motionless, staring at us intently. HELL-ga marched to the side of the line and produced an opening in the railing. She then left me with a firm "Go!". I'm pretty sure I was back to the international terminal before she got back to her perch.