I am admiring a statue of an important-looking man in the park when a good-looking, casually, but well-dressed, man says hello.
Before I speak, he correctly guesses I am from Canada by my clothes. My MEC clothing is a giveaway.
He explains the significance of the statue, it being of Turkey’s first leader after the Ottoman Empire fell.
The man tells me he has a Canadian girlfriend, who lives in Hamilton, and who is visiting Turkey in a couple of weeks to see him.
I am interested to know more about this man and his life, but he’s just so smooth, asks a lot of questions, and I find I’m lying to possibly protect myself.
I can tell that I am not of interest to him for my own right, but only as a means to an end, though I do not yet know what that end might be.
I try to cut the conversation short, thanking him a couple of times, but he doesn’t release me; he continues asking his questions and recommending places that I should visit.
Finally, I am firm that I must leave now.
But he assures me he is not a tour guide trying to sell me trips. He sells carpets.
As I’m walking away, he raises his voice to my back, “Maybe we can do business together in Canada”.
Later, as I reflect on this incident, I wonder if I have the ability to continue to talk to people and learn about them for their own sake, even when it is clear that they see me as a means to an end.
I don’t know if I have the capacity, or even if it would properly work, gently and firmly saying ‘no’ to doing business together or to buying a carpet, while continuing to be curious about the other person.
I decide that next time, I will give it a try.