I’ve never left a job in quite this way before. As I was explaining to my roommate Victoria and our friend Ido last night while we made dinner, I think I’m usually the nice girl. The good, loyal employee. The considerate one. Frankly, I’m the fucking pushover. So this whole business is very new for me, and very uncomfortable. I knew before I pushed the “send” button last night and then told Ihsan, one of my other bosses (but Turkish and scary as hell), in person, that I’d be royally fucking these people over. Not because I’m such a fantastic teacher (though I hope I am), but because they have absolutely no one to replace me. They don’t have any other Americans to teach TOEFL. In fact, as far as I know, there are only four of us to begin with. The one I’ve been observing is moving to the Congo next month (???), and the other two have full schedules. The asshat they tried to train with me refused to do it. Why they allowed him to refuse is beyond me, but there you have it.
Though I would gladly slash his tires if he had a car, I at least respect Ihsan for not bullshitting me last night when I gave him the news. Let me start by describing him: he’s probably about 5’8” (which is normal for Turkish men), almost entirely bald (which is also normal), fairly swarthy in complexion, and has eyes the exact color of his skin - which is weird. He wears the same pair of pants every day and they are much, much too tight in the crotch-el area. This might be a new method of birth control for all I know. What really takes the Ihsan cake, though, is the thin, horizontal scar he has running from under his left ear to mid-way across his left cheek. Dude looks like he’s been in prison, and I listed him under “Jailbird” in my phone contacts. He looks like he could fuck shit up. On top of that, he’s married to one of the Russian teachers at the school: a very nice, very pretty blonde Ukrainian woman named Anya. No joke. Anya. She looks like she could fuck shit up, too.
I waited for Ihsan to get off the phone and then I approached (at a safe distance), and told him that I had just emailed Steev but wanted to tell him in person that I was leaving in two weeks.
He said, “when are you coming back?” Clearly he wasn’t picking up what I was putting down.
I said “I’m not.”
He said, “where are you going?”
I said, “to Los Angeles.”
He said, “Why?”
I said, “Because I’m not happy here.”
There was no way he was going to leave it at that.
He said, “But your classes aren’t finished. And I don’t have anyone to replace you.”
I said, “I understand, but I’m leaving. I thought you should know. I have some family matters I need to attend to.” (Lie.)
He said, “I think you should finish your group and then leave.” What’s super hilarious about that is that I have not one but three groups and they’re all at different places in their classes. One of them just started last week, and these classes are FOUR MONTHS LONG. Which I reminded Ihsan when he said this.
He said, “Yes. But you should finish your group.”
I said, “I can’t. I have my ticket. I’m going home.” Stare down. The empty smile he usually gives me was gone. And scars don’t smile.
He said, “okay” with more hostility than I’ve heard here.
I said, “see you later” and then I tried my hardest not to fucking bolt for the door. To be honest, I almost wondered if he’d have me followed home and then beaten up. I hid my computer when I left this morning to commence my touristic frenzy of the city while I still live here. I know it sounds super paranoid, but I don’t trust these people. I wouldn’t put it past them to change the locks while my roommate and I are out, but then they don’t know that Victoria’s giving her two weeks notice very soon, as well. I am 100% certain they’re going to try to weasel as much as possible out of my paycheck at the end of the month. They made me pay a 200 TL deposit last pay period which they claim will be returned to me when I hypothetically leave, but now that my departure isn’t as much hypothetical as it is really fucking real, I know I won’t see that money again.
Anyway. If you didn’t quite catch that, (or didn’t believe it,) I didn’t lie to Steev and Ihsan about going home. I’m going to use my original return ticket that I bought back in August. My direct flight from Atatürk to LAX leaves at noon on December 7th. I’m giving myself two work-free days to finish packing and spend time with a city that I really do love so much. I told two of my classes yesterday that I’d be going and they were all as shocked as I am sad about this decision. Yes. I am sad. I know it’s the right thing to do for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish things were different. Telling my students felt like punching myself in the face and it was only by the skin of my teeth that I didn’t start crying. Especially because a few of them looked like they were about to start. I told them I loved them. They told me they loved me. I told them they were the best part of my life here. They asked me what they could do to make me stay. It was hard. It was shitty. It was life getting real.
Seems like it doesn’t matter where I am - I hate leaving. Leaving sucks.
If you want me to send a postcard or pick something up for you, now’s the time to tell me folks.
love you all,
anya
p.s. this is totally the 101st post!
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