My Daughter, My Teacher

The bus

Bus

Mehmet lives in Istanbul. He is fifty-two. He is a cook in a small restaurant near the sea.

Mehmet tinggal di Istanbul. Umurnya lima puluh dua tahun. Dia juru masak di restoran kecil dekat laut.

Mehmet can cook everything. He can make fish, rice and soup for a hundred people. But he can’t drive.

Mehmet bisa memasak semua makanan. Dia bisa membuat ikan, nasi, dan sup untuk seratus orang. Tetapi dia tidak bisa menyetir.

In his family, his wife drives. She drives to the market, to the doctor and to the restaurant. Mehmet sits next to her and talks.

Di keluarganya, istrinya yang menyetir mobil. Istrinya menyetir ke pasar, ke dokter, dan ke restoran. Mehmet duduk di sampingnya dan berbicara.

“Turn left here,” he says. “No, right! Watch the bus!”

“Belok kiri di sini,” katanya. “Bukan, kanan! Awas bus itu!”

“Mehmet,” says his wife. “Who drives this car? You or me?”

“Mehmet,” kata istrinya. “Siapa yang menyetir mobil ini? Kamu atau aku?”

“You, of course.”

“Kamu, tentu saja.”

“Then be quiet.”

“Kalau begitu, diam.”

One evening, his wife comes home with a letter. She is happy and sad at the same time.

Pada suatu sore, istrinya pulang membawa surat. Dia merasa senang dan sedih bersamaan.

“I have a new job,” she says. “A good job, in a hospital. But it is in Bursa.”

“Aku punya pekerjaan baru,” katanya. “Pekerjaan bagus, di rumah sakit. Tetapi tempatnya di Bursa.”

“Bursa! That is far.”

“Bursa! Itu jauh.”

“Yes. I live there from Monday to Friday. I come home at the weekend.”

“Ya. Aku tinggal di sana dari Senin sampai Jumat. Aku pulang ke rumah pada akhir pekan.”

Mehmet is quiet for a moment. “And the car?”

Mehmet diam sebentar. “Lalu mobil kita?”

“The car comes with me. I need it in Bursa.”

“Mobil ikut dengan aku. Aku butuh mobil di Bursa.”