A week later, she was in a taxi that was stopped by police. Using the polite plural form of you she asked what the taxi driver had done wrong. "You are on the side of the guilty!" the policeman said, using the singular. "Are you my father or a relative?" she replied, insulted. He grabbed her wrist, flung her to the ground. She woke up sobbing in the back of another driver's cab. The driver said, "You cannot be Turkish, to help a taxi driver."
The next day she was followed home by catcalling men. They hated her loose hair, her clothes, her manner. They wanted her back in purdah. Halet needs that work permit.
An old crazy lady is singing Is that all there is? Halet likes the song; there is something Turkish about its mournfulness. A black lady starts to sing it too. Suddenly everyone is dancing.
Car 7 map