Coming from a red eye flight and rubbing the sleep off my eyes, I disembarked in Istanbul after a 10 hours flight. From this city that straddles Asia and Europe, I will be taking a connecting flight to Tel Aviv.
 |
| The view from inside Istanbul's Ataturk Airport |
Inside Istanbul Ataturk Airport, is organized chaos - men, women and children of different colors, age and sizes navigating through the labyrinth of airport corridors. I weaved amongst the rushing feet and rolling luggages to the connecting gate only to be greeted by a line of travel weary people and unsmiling immigration officers. Clutching my maroon Philippine passport, I stood at the end of the line to wait for my turn in the inquisition.
"Australia passport" - the pretty blonde tall immigration officer called over the din of muffled conversations
"Singapore passport" - another immigration officer shouted
As people went over to the immigration officer, I can see them handing their passport and were ushered in to the connecting terminals
I looked around and noticed that those left were from Malaysia and the Philippines - no hard feelings, no comments about racism, you just get used to the woes of travelling as a citizen of a third world country. You just shrug it off and mutter other your breath "Third world problems". It was a humbling experience knowing that you can't wave a passport that will send shivers to the immigration officer's spine - the only thing you can do is to wait and meekly hand over the maroon colored booklet emblazoned with golden letters that spelled PHILIPPINES. You look the officer in the eye and answer them truthfully and convincingly that you just wanted to see the world and not work or stay illegally in the country and that is the only time that you let out a sigh of relief as they put a stamp or a sticker on your passport and usher you into the connecting terminals.
"Australia passport" - the pretty blonde tall immigration officer called over the din of muffled conversations
"Singapore passport" - another immigration officer shouted
As people went over to the immigration officer, I can see them handing their passport and were ushered in to the connecting terminals
I looked around and noticed that those left were from Malaysia and the Philippines - no hard feelings, no comments about racism, you just get used to the woes of travelling as a citizen of a third world country. You just shrug it off and mutter other your breath "Third world problems". It was a humbling experience knowing that you can't wave a passport that will send shivers to the immigration officer's spine - the only thing you can do is to wait and meekly hand over the maroon colored booklet emblazoned with golden letters that spelled PHILIPPINES. You look the officer in the eye and answer them truthfully and convincingly that you just wanted to see the world and not work or stay illegally in the country and that is the only time that you let out a sigh of relief as they put a stamp or a sticker on your passport and usher you into the connecting terminals.
