Along the path.
How blessed I am to have seen a lot
of the world, some alone, some with friends? Always the road traveled and new friends met are as good or better than the destination.
In Africa last month, I met a guy who plays for Italy’s national soccer team. Before that, for Florence, one of my favorite towns. Unlike some US athletes so full of themselves, he was a regular dude. He didn’t talk about soccer, he wanted me to tell him about America, which he loved. “Where’s the good Italian?” he asked. I told him the Rome pub where I get my favorite Kilkenny ale, and once celebrated with Irish fans after their national soccer team beat Italy. Maybe I should have left that part out.
A young man of Japanese ancestry who grew up in the UK and I decided gin and tonic was the right after-safari drink. Every night he was there he patiently waited for me. Since he was British, I insisted he choose the gin. We had a new one every night. After he left I kept up the tradition.
A young German woman who grew up in Russia wanted me to air drop all my photos to her. I became her personal travel photographer. She told me people are insulted if you ask what their accent is. “Instead ask ‘What other languages do you speak?’ ” I tried it on a cabin attendant. He was an Israeli.
Speaking of which, thanks to the Atlanta-based Delta team, my hometown airline. A senior attendant told me, ”If you need anything, we’re here all night.” They really were. I was headed to the AB-350 restroom when it was time to buckle up. Getting ready to return to my seat, the captain appeared. “Go ahead,” he said.
A young couple in their 20s, whose parents left Sri Lanka 30 years ago, met and married in Switzerland. Dark skinned and Hindu, she deadpanned: “We’re from Switzerland but we don’t look like it.”
What a delight. I teased her about her vegetarian diet. She thought I was the funniest guy she ever met. I love them both.
They didn’t ask me about politics. We didn’t talk about religion either.
I was a racial minority depending on others to keep me safe and informed. They ask what people want to see. First timers say elephants, lions etc. I yell “dung beetle.” It was a daily joke. One day we found a massive elephant dropping. “Look, Bob, a convention.”
What a joy to be away from radio, TV and news.
Some of the folks from my nine years of African trips are
old friends. I know of their tribes and villages and families and learn some of their language. One was a woman who has advanced in her job over that time and when I returned from the bush I always was greeted with a huge hug. Just me, like family. On the last day as I was leaving I turned to her for my last hug and she started crying. “I just can’t.” I told her if she hugged me I would be back.
I am a man of my word.
Sorry, comments are closed for this post.