New Year’s Eve 2023 – Istanbul, Turkiye

I matched with the Young Nigerian in Istanbul just before New Year’s Eve.  I almost didn’t swipe on him because I was 98% sure he was a catfish with his absurd cheekbones and jawline and headshot-esc photos.  I was also 100% sure he was too young for me, but something still sent my thumb to the right and… voila! It was a match.

Brief pause to address the Ya-Ya-Boy/90-Day-Fiance-elephant in the room:

I was not immediately aware he was Nigerian, though suspected he may have been, but regardless of the SojaBoys of the world, I am not immediately dismissive of anyone simply because of the reputation of their nationality… also, I was certainly not looking to marry the man.

So, moving on.

I tossed my age hesitation out the window and sent the first message.

We were chatting (like, on the actual phone) on New Year’s Eve and he said he didn’t have any plans, so I told him to come meet up with my friend and I.  Figuring if he was a catfish, he either wouldn’t come, or if he did, we would be in a crowd of thousands so it would be a safe place to expose him and run.

He said he would come out and meet us, but that it would take him a while to get to where we would be.  I told him we’d be out for a while, so whenever he got there was fine.

If you have never celebrated New Year’s Eve in Istanbul, it is almost impossible to truly understand what it is like, but I will do my best to set the scene:

There are thousands of people in the streets, from teenagers (like 14 year old teenagers), to senor citizens.  Locals, tourists and everything in between. People dressed to the nines, people barley dressed, people in head-to-toe sequins, and any and everything on the clothed-to-naked spectrum.

The local shops had stacks and stacks of beer inside and out, that were being purchased by the armful by the above teenagers.  Everyone was smoking. There were “bands” walking the streets playing snake charmer music and beating drums made from a myriad of household items.

Well before midnight, friends were carrying their drunk friends through the streets, or propping them up in the corner so they could continue their merriment. Sparklers and fireworks were going off everywhere.  There were droves of police, but they didn’t seem to be doing much policing, and though the streets were pure madness – there is no real need for policing.

To say Istanbul on NYE is a scene is a formidable understatement.

Just before the big countdown began, The Young Nigerian texted to say he was nearby and I sent him my location. 

Already several drinks in, my friend and I had posted up on the patio of a bar where we made friends with a pair of young travelers we were certain were a couple until one asked for my friend’s number and professed his lust for her.

We made a sign (using a napkin and eyeliner) with the Young Nigerian’s name on it so he would know it was us, because a napkin with his name on it would be WAY easier to spot than this giant American, and we waited.

And waited…

Countdown, cheers, shouts, snake charmer music, “drums” beating, bodega beers clanked and chugged, thousands of sparklers, (possibly homemade) fireworks shot off in the street, shots with our new friends, hugs and kisses, New Year rang all the way in…

And… waited.

He texted again saying he had been walking around trying to find us, and he was at the location it said I was at, but we didn’t see him. He kept saying how “crazy” it was, and I was thinking: um, yeah… it’s NYE in Istanbul!

The new friends we had made had started to get annoying, and we were ready for a change of scenery, so we decided to go try to track him down. 

He shared his location and my friend and I went to find him through the maze of merriment and vomit.

As we turned a corner, we saw the Young Nigerian, wrapped in a huge coat looking around like a deer in the headlights of a fleet of MAC trucks barreling towards him, but very much the gorgeous man from the photos.

My friend, not so softly, drunkenly “whispered” to me: damn! He is HOT! and the young Nigerian immediately blushed. She was not wrong, this man was beautiful.

Some local friends were coming out shortly, so we decided to stay together until they arrived, so my friend wasn’t alone in the madness.

I said we should find a bar and have some drinks while we waited for my friend’s friend and the young Nigerian said he wanted to get a juice.

A… what?

A juice.

Like a vodka with juice?

No, just… juice.

Now, it is certainly not a requirement that my dates are drinkers, but this was NEW YEAR’S EVE.

The whole city seemed to be partying, and of course there were plenty of non-drinkers in the crowds, but my friend and I had been drinking all night and had no plans to stop.

Luckily the Young Nigerian clearly sensed my feelings and assured us he wasn’t going to be a damper on our evening and might even have A beer with us.

We got him a fresh squeezed juice, us some water and to-go beers and headed back to the bars. 

The Young Nigerian just kept commenting on how “wild” and “crazy” everything was.  It was clear he was not one for the party scene and had underestimated the wildness that was taking place. Honesty, I had too… but while I was thriving on it, he clearly very overwhelmed.

We eventually found a bar with a patio to sit at and yell-talk to each other with our respective beers and water.  The young Nigerian eventually eased into the evening and seemed to start enjoying it a bit, he even joined us in having a beer.  He shared he had been in Istanbul for a couple of months, but didn’t go out much and was very much an introvert. 

Why he chose to have a first date on the biggest party night of the year, with a loud, extroverted American and her Turkish-American friend is beyond me.

He eventually relaxed and ended up being really sweet and showed glimpses of a sense of humor… and, let’s be honest, was VERY nice to look at.

We met up with my friend’s local friend and a couple of his friends around 2am and decided to just all stay together and ride out the rest of the night, which may or may not have been a mistake. I had met the friend previously and while he was a total weirdo, was endearing in his own way.  Unfortunately, his friend was very awkward and combined they were an eclectic and interesting mix to our already interesting mix.

So here we were, on our first date, at 2am at a table with a drunk Kurd, his drunk Turkish friend whose “jokes” were delivered in slurred Turklish that even my bi-lingual friend couldn’t translate, and copious amounts of cheap Turkish beer.  Though clearly not entertained, a little judgy, and still very overwhelmed, the Young Nigerian took it in stride and stuck the night out with me/us.

As we were all fra-la-la’ing back to our Airbnb for a seemingly endless night, the Young Nigerian and I hung back a bit to talk and walk. The conversation was flowing well and we actually seemed to be vibing. As I was thinking we might be starting the year out with a bang, he abruptly said he was going to grab a cab and head back to his place.

This seemed a sudden end, and I asked if he was sure he didn’t want to come back and hang out for a bit. He pointed to my friend’s VERY drunk friends and said “that is just a lot right now” and he wasn’t wrong.

He hailed a cab, gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

I caught up with my friend and her friends, stumbled up the thousand steps of Besiktas to our Airbnb, attempted to adopt a street dog at 4:45a, wandered down the street looking for a potato, and assumed I would never hear from him again….