Anak Perempuan Saya, Guru Saya

Bus

The bus

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

“Kamu, tentu saja.”

“You, of course.”

“Kalau begitu, diam.”

“Then be quiet.”

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

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

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

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

“Bursa! Itu jauh.”

“Bursa! That is far.”

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

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

Mehmet diam sebentar. “Lalu mobil kita?”

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

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

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