En bjørn -- A Bear

I was convinced, that I had told the story of me and the bear in connexion with My Bucket List (Part 2 - Have done), but it seems I have not.

Den blå moske i Istanbul
The Blue mosque, Istanbul

It happened  in Istanbul, long time ago, I was there with a group of people in a bus. We had parked the bus at a park-site behind Sultan Ahmed Mosque (the blue Mosque). It was late December, and my job was to get water together with Lene, another girl from the bus. We had two or three big water jars, each able to hold 25 litres. It was a tough job filling the jars under the water spouts of the well, and it got harder, the fuller they got. It was cold, and getting your hands wet from the cold water was unpleasant to put it mildly.
  My container was more than half full, when someone squeezed in next to me. It was a very big person in a thick, furry coat. I gently elbowed him, carefully so as not to lose the grip on my jar. He just pushed up to me, and I got irritated and pushed harder, all the time keeping a steady grip on the increasingly heavy jar. He pushed once again, very roughly. I turned my head, ready to scold the impertinent fellow, and looked into the fur of a big, brown bear! I let the jar alone to its fate and ran. Lene dropped her jar as well and ran with me.
  A man yelled at us in Turkish, not angrily, but calming and calling. We stopped and looked back. The man, a small rotund figure in gaudy clothes, had the bear in a chain. It stood totally absorbed in its drinking. And as we carefully made out way back, the man apologized and told us - in Turkish, English and sign language, that the bear was a dancing bear and not dangerous, only thirsty. We retrieved the jars, and filled them at another spout further away from the bear. And after the bear had drunk its fill, it danced for us and the other people, who had gathered at the well. We patted it gingerly as a farewell gesture.

-- 🐻 --

Jeg var overbevist om, at jeg havde fortalt historien om mig og bjørnen, da jeg fortalte om alt det jeg havde nået (Bucket List del 2), men det har jeg åbenbart ikke.

Det skete i Istanbul for længe siden. Jeg var der med en gruppe mennesker i en bus. Vi havde parkeret bussen på en parkeringsplads bag Sultan Ahmed-moskeen (den blå moské). Det var sidst i december, og min opgave var at hente vand sammen med Lene, en anden pige fra bussen. Vi havde to eller tre store vanddunke, som hver kunne rumme 25 liter. Det var et hårdt arbejde at fylde dunkene under hanerne i bassinet, og det blev sværere, jo fuldere de blev. Det var koldt, og det var mildest talt ubehageligt at få våde hænder af det kolde vand.
     Min dunk var mere end halvt fyldt, da en anden masede sig ind ved siden af mig. Det var en meget stor person i en tyk vinterjakke. Jeg gav ham et forsigtigt puf med en albue i siden, forsigtigt for ikke at miste grebet om min beholder. Han skubbede bare til mig igen, og jeg blev irriteret og skubbede hårdere, mens jeg hele tiden holdt godt fast i den stadig tungere vanddunk. Han skubbede endnu en gang, meget hårdt. Jeg drejede hovedet for at skælde ud og kiggede lige ind i pelsen på en stor, brun bjørn! Jeg lod dunk være dunk og løb. Lene slap også sin dunk og løb sammen med mig.
     En mand råbte til os på tyrkisk, ikke vredt, men beroligende og kaldende. Vi stoppede op og kiggede tilbage. Manden, en lille rund fyr i spraglet tøj, havde bjørnen i en kæde. Den stod helt optaget af at drikke. Og mens vi forsigtigt gik tilbage, undskyldte manden og fortalte os - på tyrkisk, engelsk og tegnsprog - at bjørnen var en dansende bjørn og ikke spor farlig, bare tørstig. Vi hentede vores dunke og fyldte dem ved en af de andre haner lidt længere væk fra bjørnen. Efter at bjørnen havde drukket, dansede den for os, og dem, der ellers havde forsamlet sig ved brønden, og vi klappede den forsigtigt til afsked.