Funny story. Very funny.
So Alex has connections. It's a little fuzzy, but I think it's her godmother (who she's very close to) who is married to the French ambassador to Turkey. Or something like that. So Alex gets an email from this woman inviting her (and me, by extension) to "a party at the Canadian Embassy," where there will be "young diplomats and fun Turks" and such. K. So Alex is a little wishy washy about going, and I pounce on the idea- for the love of God, at least there will be English speakers there! It starts at 18:00 (they go by a 24 hour clock here, so 6:00 pm, for the lazy), which is when we get out of work. However, TOBB is in Söğütözü, which is in the middle of NOWHERE. Seriously, go google maps it. There's nothing here. Except my apartment building, and TOBB (the university). So we'll have to take a cab, etc, and aren't going to be there on time, so Alex emails Stephanie, (godmother-or-whatever) back who says that's fine, and she's had us put on "the list"- because she's not going to be there herself. Right. So we're going to this thing and know NO one. Also, btdubs, ALEX is on the list- and, Stephanie explains, we'll just have to explain "the situation" (i.e., me showing up and not being on the list) when we get there. Nooo problem.
So we get off work, walk the 1/2 a block to our building, and (of course) spend an hour getting ready and going through clothes because we have absolutely no idea what we are getting ourselves into here. I changed like six times. (I don't DO that!) We finally decide on professional-ish, and if we're dressed wrong we'll just explain we came right from work. So we walk over to the Armada, the big mall that's 5-6 blocks away, because I needed an atm. And there's tons of taxis there. We get in a cab, and tell the guy "Canadian Embassy" ("they all know where it is" according to Stephanie in one of the emails). He starts babbling, very confused, in Turkish, and I realize I forgot the slip of paper where I wrote down the actual street/area the Embassy was on. Because I. Am a moron. So I say "Ka... Na... Da..." really slowly, and the guys sorta gets the idea, calls over his radio thing and asks somebody else, and then turns to us and smiles and nods and off we go. And despite going through several sketchy neighborhoods, we get there okay.
Problem number one: This is TURKEY. The Canadian embassy looks like a huge FORTRESS. I mean, we get out of the cab and my first thought is, "whoops, forgot the grappling hooks!" It's a huge concrete-brick wall, with a couple of obviously unused metal doors with bars over them. So... we decide there must be an entrance somewhere, and we start walking up the hill. And pass several more creepy-barred doors. And being winter, it's already very dark (a little after 7 pm), and creepy. And so we get to the end of the building and see an obvious entrance for cars, next to a little box with a guy in it and a sliding bullet-proof glass window. We walk up and the guy sees us ("He's an awfully tan Canadian," I think somewhere in the back of my head), and opens the window. "Canadian Embassy?" we ask.
"Libyian Embassy" he smiles.
Right.
So we turn around, walk back down the street, past where we were dropped off, and of course 20 feet in THAT direction we find the same type of entrance, except Canadian. And obviously expecting people, whereas the Libyian embassy was completely dark and silent. So the guard asks for our passports, and starts looking at the list. And Alex and I try to explain that I'm with her, and not a terrorist. And he asks who our sponsor is, which is when Alex turns to me, and explains that she never asked Stephanie the name of her friend who was at this party- the person who put Alex's name on the list. So Alex says Stephanie's name, and the guy rolls his eyes and says we need a DIPLOMAT to let us in, which Stephanie is not. And Alex and I fumble for a second, obviously panic-stricken, and the guy looks at the list again and looks at us, and says a name- clearly the name we were SUPPOSED to know. And we nod furiously. He goes inside to ask this guy if he actually knows us, and Alex and I break out into giggles. I felt like a high schooler that wandered into a frat party- you know, "Uh, mike! Of course we know Mike! Everyone knows Mike!"
Forgot my grappling hooks. Damn.
The guy comes back with our passports, hands them to us, and lets us in. We trail these two girls (mid twenties), who obviously know where they're going, and hang up our coats and take a minute to breathe, then walk in.
We were, by an average of 25 years, the youngest people there. I mean, some of these people had grandkids. A lot of them, actually. And all of them had finished grad school, at the very least. And we clearly professionals, adults, "real people" with experiences and salaries to prove it, and they were all very intentionally getting smashed. In a hurry. So we stand there, gawking, and then grab funny-named canadian beers (sorry, mom and dad), and stand in the corner. Very awkwardly.
HOWEVER, less than 15 minutes after we position ourselves as to be as unobtrusive as possible, the same girls that we followed in come up to us and start a conversation. One girl was Turkish, worked at the embassy (or some embassy, not sure- it was EXTREMELY loud by this point), and the other was an American! She was on a month-long vacation, originally from California. So the Turkish girl meets up with other people, and Alex, Anna (Californian), and I spend a good couple hours chatting and laughing about strange Turkish things and just generally being very American. Turns out she's just as socially stifled as we are, and we hit it off immediately. AND we scored an invitation to go to their dinner party tonight- and possibly go out tangoing afterwards! And they're going to Capadoccio (spelling?), in a week or so and invited us to tag along for the weekend. They left around nine, and Alex and I chatted about politics and such for an hour and went home. Overall, an epic success.
And now I can say I've partied in Canada. In Turkey.
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