turks wana get me killed

I met three Turks on the train. Or rather, I had no choice but to meet three turkish men on the train as they were the only white guys in the "3rd class" carriage speaking in a funny accent. Since this whole train strike steamerolled into it's second day. The train are a bit off-schedule. So if you are 3 white guys, smiling on a train full of blacks while speaking a funny language. So my beloved train goes swiftly from Stellenbosch (supposedly) to Cape Town but leaves all of us stranded in Bellville. Then it starts to rain and I do not have an umbrella. But the Turks have umbrellas, nice big newish-looking ones. They stand in Bellville next to me looking lost not knowing why the hell everyone is getting off the train and leaving them behind. They ask me and I explain that they need to catch a mini-bus taxi to Cape Town or sleep at the train station. Clever chaps. Because even though they speak little English, they decide it best to follow me since I seem like I know where I am going. What they do not know is that I have absolutely no clue and they make me nervous looking all "tourist-like" and might attract pickpocketers my way. But they are cute, smile a lot and the tall bald Turk with the blue eyes keeps asking me if I think he looks Russian. But they have an umbrella and I dont. So I keep smiling, nodding and walking with them because we are going to the same place. We get a little lost at Bellville station trying to locate a mini-bus to Cape Town. But this bit of info wouldn't have been obvious had you looked at my face, it said "I know where I am going and yes the Turks are with me but if you feel like robbing them, I do not know them". We get inside the taxi and I have to listen to them speak Turkish for the next hour or so and the other Turk (with the nice hair) keeps reminding me that they are "proud Turkey, not Russia". I just nod my head and point to the mini-tv and tell them to watch as the comedian is speaking Afrikaans and that sounds like Dutch. At this point, my geography fails me and I had assumed Turkey is somewhere next to Holland, kinda like SA and Zimbabwe are next-door neighbours. And to think I was the best Geography student in Grade 10 (sorry Mr De Jongh). We finally get to Cape Town station and I manage to convince the Nice-haired-Turk that this would be a good time to put away his Blackberry and stop speaking foreign because it's dark and they're not black so, really, it was for their own good. But baldi with the nice eyes (nice hair's friend) does not listen and almost had his cellphone jacked by a guy who strolled into the station after the near-robbery like he was walking into his house. So relaxed. Like nothing happened. At this point, I point the Turks to Adderley Street and simply go my own way for fear that they might get me killed. P.S i know I said there were 3 of them, the other one was a bit of a mute really. "Dont speake de Englishh"