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Saturday, June 23, 2012

Small World Holds True Again


Shopping in Brugge, Belgium.

The Help genie that Carol and Julie have written about recently found me in Brussels this week.  I was waiting for a bus to take me to the central train station when a woman appeared in my bus shelter with her roller bag, walked up to me and made a funny remark about the risqué poster advertisement that covered the wall.  It featured five blonde, bikinied babes holding a giant hamburger like a surfboard over their heads. 

“Guess they’re not trying to sell to you and me,” she snickered.  “What are they thinking?”  The place was called “Miami Beach.”  "It's probably like Hooters," I said.  Nice to import the best of American food culture to the rich epicurean tastes of Brussels, I thought to myself.

I could tell from her accent and colloquialisms that she was an American.  I learned that she is an ex-pat who has lived in Europe for the past 20 years.  She admitted to recently turning 50, but she looked about 35, with that beautiful bi-racial skin that seems to defy wrinkles.  We chatted about touring Europe.  She was glad that I had left my hotel to travel alone.  

The bus arrived and she boarded ahead of me and found a seat.  I presented my 20 Euro bill to the driver only to be denied because the denomination was too large.  (Before heading out, I had asked the hotel clerk if I needed exact change.  Guess I didn’t ask the right question.)

So I stood there wondering what to do: get off the bus to get smaller change and wait for the next one, or give up the trip completely.  Then I heard the American call out to me:  “I have the fare for you.”  She gave me 3 Euros for the 2.50 fare; she refused any thought of me repaying her.   

We continued to chat on the 25-minute ride to the station.  I told her I was from Philly.  I learned that her name is Ariella, she is a PhD, a graduate of Bryn Mawr College.  She has worked for the UN and other NGOs. She is an African American and Jewish.  I told her the 10-minute version of my life; of Max and Bernie at home, why I was in Brussels (delivering training). She spoke wisely about being a woman in an American corporation.  We arrived at the station way too fast.  

She was so interesting that I wanted to follow her to Germany instead of continuing my trip to Brugge.   When we entered the station we both looked up at the board and say our trains were leaving soon.  She shook my hand, wished me happy travels, and rushed off to her platform. 

I had a nice week in Brussels, in the classes, at meals with my European colleagues, and on my own seeing a little more of Belgium.  But the memory of Ariella will stay with me for a long time.  I hope that I can return the favor someday to a tourist or anyone who is in need. 

Have you ever met someone serendipitously that you will never forget?  Share your story.

7 comments:

  1. Nice post - I love experiences like that! I can think of a few, but the first that came to mind was years ago when I took the Auto Train from Florida to Maryland. I was traveling alone and figured I would just read or sleep through the night. But I ended up in conversation with another passenger (sorry to say I can't remember his name). We ended up talking through the night and even went up into a dome car that had a glass roof so we could see the stars. The car was technically closed, so we were the only ones up there. I remember laughing a lot that night. The circumstances surrounding the reason for that trip were a bit difficult, emotionally. The conversation with the other passenger turned a potentially sad experience into one that was very enjoyable. We didn't keep in touch, but I will never forget him. When I look back on that whole trip, I don't think of the unpleasant emotions. I remember the stranger who shared the trip with me and transformed it into a fun memory filled with laughter. :-)

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    1. I love this story. The image of you looking through the glass dome at the stars is so wonderful. I bet he knew you needed someone that trip. Thanks for sharing, Rachel.

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  2. Good story. I had a similar experience in Paris on the Metro. A Parisian who spoke perfect English lent me a token to get out a subway maze I had ended up in. Smiling, happy to help, she was more than gracious, and, for me, putting the old saw of Parisians being snotty to rest.

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    1. I have always feared France because of stories about their disdain for tourists. Glad you had a good witch to help you in Oz.

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  3. Hi, many years ago in Europe we had an oppisite experience. We tried to get to Notre Dame cathedral and no one, not the bus drivers or anyone we asked on the street would give us directions. We spoke only limited french and I am sure our pronounciation lacked finese, but still, hard to imagine no one recognised the name Notre Dame. Glad to hear happier experiences.

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    1. Bummer... I guess that's the agony and ecstasy of travel. Finding your way in a strange land is such a challenge. Did you ever get to Notre Dame?

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  4. no, missed ND, but on the bright side, we backpacked through Europe for 9 weeks and saw enough churches and cathedrals to last a lifetime

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