Lost in Istanbul: When Loyalty Was Put to the Test

It was a cold, quiet evening in Istanbul, just after 8 PM, when life outside seemed to slow down, but something inside me felt strangely alert. I had just finished a long day at university, tired but relieved, walking toward the metro station when I saw them—two young girls standing alone under the harsh glow of the station lights. One of them was crying—really crying, the kind that comes from a place of fear, exhaustion, and helplessness. Her sobs were raw and uncontrolled, echoing softly against the station walls. The other girl stood beside her, clearly distressed, but doing her best to stay composed. Something about the scene struck a chord deep within me. In a city of millions, it’s easy to become invisible. But in that moment, their pain was visible—and unbearable to ignore. While many passersby walked past without even glancing, I couldn’t bring myself to do the same. There was something about their vulnerability that compelled me to stop. Summoning the courage to approach them, I made my way closer. As I did, one of the girls abruptly walked away into the crowd. The other remained behind, her eyes filled with uncertainty, fear, and silent pleading. A glass wall separated us, but her expression spoke volumes.

I tried to communicate, but quickly realized we didn’t share a common language. They spoke neither English, Turkish, nor Urdu. At that moment, I noticed a young couple nearby and approached them, hoping they might be able to help. To my relief, they spoke Russian. They were university students named Anwer and Paree, and through them, I was able to understand the girls’ situation. They were from Uzbekistan, had missed their flight, and were now stranded in Istanbul with no money and no clear way home.

I stepped out to buy them water and some snacks, but when I returned, the girl who had earlier walked away had still not come back. We waited and searched nearby, but there was no sign of her. Her friend, increasingly upset, said something in frustration. Anwer translated her words: “She’s not a good friend. Maybe she left me deliberately.”

This statement struck me deeply. Could someone truly abandon a friend in such a vulnerable moment? Was it fear, panic, or something deeper? The idea that a bond—especially between two people navigating a foreign city together—could break so easily was difficult to process. What kind of friendship dissolves in the very moment it is most needed?

I offered to help the remaining girl by taking her to my home so she could contact her family. However, she hesitated—and understandably so. As a lone girl in an unfamiliar city, placing trust in a stranger must have felt like a risk too great to take. Respecting her caution, I instead booked her a room in a nearby hotel and asked Anwer and Paree to accompany her there. I also encouraged her to reach out to her family immediately for assistance.

Later that night, I contacted the couple again and learned they had suggested she go directly to the airport instead of staying at the hotel, thinking she might find some official help there. I was left hoping that she would find safety and support.

The next morning, I received a message—not from the girl I had helped, but from the other girl, the one who had vanished. She introduced herself as "Mee." It turned out that the girl I had assisted had used Mee’s phone to contact me, asking if I could help her purchase a $200 ticket. I gently replied that it was time for her to involve her family in resolving the situation.

This entire experience left me questioning the nature of friendship. In moments of crisis, we often witness people’s true character—and the real strength of their relationships. While it is easy to call someone a friend, what matters is how that bond holds up when it’s tested. Fear may cause people to act in self-preservation, but when loyalty is absent in times of need, can we still call it friendship?

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Conclusion

This incident was more than just a chance encounter in Istanbul. It was a reflection on the fragile lines that define human connection. True friendship demands empathy, courage, and responsibility. And sometimes, it takes getting lost to see who truly stands by your side.