Taksim–Koca Mustafapaşa Minibus Line | by Kaan Tural

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Istiklal Avenue, the beating heart of Istanbul, flows like a living river at all hours — a meeting point of diverse lives, languages, and emotions.

Being the Passenger Next to the Driver

If, on a car ride, there is only a thin pane of glass between you and the road, and you happen to be the driver’s one true companion throughout the journey, there are certain situations you are exposed to and responsibilities you inevitably assume. Especially in public transport, if you’re seated in the front seat, you witness the driver’s every mood swing, complaint, little rebellion, customer dissatisfaction, and even personal troubles.

His outbursts at pedestrians — “There’s so much sidewalk, why are they walking here?” — the sense of duty that raises his voice to announce, “Anyone who hasn’t taken their change?” The questions directed at the rearview mirror scanning the passengers: “Was there anyone getting off at Aksaray?” The echoes of “How many vehicles are on the boulevard?” through the megaphone… All these sounds become the soundtrack of your journey.

Passengers who half-heartedly describe their stop force him to ask, “Is it here, ma’am/sir?” again and again — eventually turning into a cycle of repetition. Another responsibility of the front seat is enduring the driver’s countless handshakes extended through the window that has become his second home. Hands reaching across you for greetings, negotiations, gestures — while you shrink back like a shadow…

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