Long before the broken shower, flickering lightbulb, and self-proclaimed VIP of my current apartment, my first Ankara rental taught me a much more serious lesson about trust. If you arrived here from Expat Life in Ankara: When a “Luxury” Apartment Isn’t Luxury, this is the earlier experience I mentioned at the end of that post.
It involved people I believed were helping me, rental documents that did not reflect the truth, and a lease that was never properly notarized. Eventually, it jeopardized my residence permit and completely changed the way I approach renting in Türkiye.
It also gave me the rule I now carry through life abroad:
Trust people, but verify everything.
Preferably before signing anything—and perhaps before handing over an entire year’s rent. Experience is an excellent teacher. Unfortunately, she occasionally charges outrageous tuition.
My First Apartment and a Costly Lesson in Trust
When I moved to Ankara in September 2023, everything was new. I was learning a new country, a new language, a new bureaucracy, and an entirely different way of navigating daily life. My brain was in permanent “new country mode,” which apparently meant processing twelve confusing things at once while pretending I totally knew what I was doing.
I knew there would be things I did not understand, which was exactly why I tried to surround myself with people who could help me. Someone I believed was a friend was assisting me, and I also hired a lawyer who had been recommended to review documents and help ensure that everything was handled correctly.
I believed I was taking the responsible approach. Looking back, that support gave me a false sense of security because I assumed the people helping me shared my goal of making sure the paperwork accurately reflected reality.
Spoiler alert: the paperwork had other plans.
I paid the first year’s rent for the apartment in advance. When it was time to complete the notary paperwork, however, my landlady refused to provide the notarized lease I needed for my residence permit.
Instead, a document was prepared saying that I was her guest and that she was financially supporting me. That was most definitely not our arrangement. I had paid a full year of rent. I was her tenant, not an extremely committed houseguest who had somehow brought nine suitcases, cats, and twelve months’ rent to the sleepover.
Because I could not read the document myself, I did not understand what it said until the following day. That was where the situation stopped being merely confusing and became genuinely upsetting.
The hardest part was not simply discovering an inaccurate description in a document. It was realizing that the safeguards I thought I had put in place had not protected me.
Living abroad requires trust. You cannot translate every conversation, know every local procedure, or anticipate every bureaucratic consequence on your own. But trust without verification can leave you exposed in ways you do not see until much later.
When the Paperwork Became a Residence Permit Problem
Six months later, after I insisted that the guest designation be removed, my landlady accompanied me to address it. The designation was removed, but the rental documentation still was not properly notarized.
Eventually, this created a serious problem. From the perspective of Göç İdaresi (the Turkish immigration office), the paperwork indicated that I had changed my address but had failed to update it within the required 20-business-day timeframe.
In reality, I had never moved. Same apartment, same address, same cats. Unfortunately, bureaucracy does not generally accept “But I swear I have been sitting on the same sofa this entire time” as documentary evidence.
I simply had not understood what had happened with the documents filed around my tenancy. My residence permit was eventually canceled, and for someone who has never lived abroad, it may be difficult to understand how frightening that can feel.
Residence status is not just a piece of plastic tucked into your wallet or another document filed away with all the other Very Important Papers You Are Terrified of Losing. It shapes whether you can feel secure in the country you have chosen as home.
Suddenly, that security seemed to depend on documents I had specifically tried—and paid—to have handled correctly.
I ultimately decided that leaving the apartment was the best choice and hired another lawyer to negotiate a settlement and help resolve the situation. The experience was expensive in every sense: financially, emotionally, and in the amount of trust it cost me.
It also reinforced the important rule mentioned above that I now keep in mind at all times:
Trust people, but verify everything.
What I Know Now
Three years in Ankara have changed the way I approach renting. When I first arrived, I thought it was enough to have knowledgeable people around me. Now I understand that trust and verification are different things.
A well-meaning friend can be mistaken. A landlord can have different priorities. A real estate agent has interests of their own. And even hiring a professional does not mean you should stop asking questions.
None of that requires assuming everyone is dishonest. It simply means remembering that I am the person who will live with the consequences.
From now on, I will arrive at an apartment viewing with roughly the same energy as a building inspector, forensic accountant, and mildly suspicious raccoon. I want a copy of every document, and if I cannot read it myself, I want a translation. I want repair promises in writing, along with photographs and video of the apartment, before move-in..
I also want enough time to test the refrigerator, freezer, stove, windows, plumbing, heating, blinds, outlets, faucets, and anything else that might be quietly plotting against me.
My apartment-viewing checklist now rivals a small government form. Does the freezer freeze? Check. Does the window actually close? Check. Does the shower door remain attached to the shower? You would think this one was unnecessary. You would be wrong.
Experience has taught me that every box is there for a reason.
I also want to confirm which address documents are needed for a residence permit and who is responsible for providing them. I want receipts for every payment and written confirmation of any changes that affect the deposit.
And if someone tells me, “Don’t worry about it,” I have learned that this is the exact moment when I should, in fact, worry about it—and follow up by asking at least three additional questions for clarification.
The Resource I Wish I Had
Because of these experiences, I created a Renting & Housing section on my Resources page with three practical downloads: Renting an Apartment in Ankara: An Expat Guide, Renting an Apartment in Ankara: Printable Checklist, and Your Türkiye Move-In & Apartment Handover Checklist.
Together, they gather the things I wish I had known before signing my first lease: what to inspect, what to ask, which documents to confirm, and which warning signs to watch for.
These resources are based on my experience rather than legal advice, and rules can change. Anyone facing a residence or tenancy issue should confirm current requirements with the appropriate authorities and a qualified, independent professional.
I learned many of these lessons the expensive way. Hopefully, someone else will not have to.
And if my misadventures prevent even one person from discovering after moving in that a window doesn’t close, a freezer doesn’t freeze, or their rental paperwork has decided to embark on a completely different narrative from reality, then perhaps some good came from all of it.
These days, I still trust people. I just trust them while holding a translated copy of the document.
In the coming weeks, I promise we are moving on to some lighter adventures. I recently took a celebratory vacation to Bodrum, a gorgeous spot on the Aegean and one of Türkiye’s best-known tourist destinations, so I have plenty to share from that trip. I also have a post coming about one of my favorite ways to experience Ankara: walking its streets, climbing its ridiculous hills, wandering through neighborhoods like Tunalı and Kızılay, and occasionally waiting for a very determined snail to cross the sidewalk after the rain. And I want to spend a little time writing about the ordinary things that still make Türkiye feel extraordinary to me—the small moments, habits, sounds, foods, conversations, and surprises that remind me that even after nearly three years, I still regularly look around and think, “I actually live here.“
Wishing you trustworthy people when the fine print gets confusing, steady spirits when the lightbulbs start flickering, and hopeful hearts that believe every unexpected move can still lead somewhere better.
With love from Ankara,
Tiffles, Stormy, and Smokey 🐾
(Currently accepting apartment applications. Functional appliances and truthful paperwork strongly preferred.)