White Baboon

“Merhaba,” I say to the bartender.He smiles wide, ready to take my request, customer service hugging him like an aura.“Do you have a pen and a paper?” I ask in English, following Michael’s advice to at least begin communication in full sentences rather than the toddler style of pointing and blurting.But he doesn’t speak any English and shakes his head in confusion. No problem. I try again with pantomime by drawing a square on the bar, then pretending to write something upon it.Aha! He seems to say, a look of recognition on his face. And promptly brings me the salt.I laught pretty loud before I just start looking for a pencil behind the bar and quickly find one.And I thought I was good at charades.