One of the things I really like about travel is that I meet strangers on trains and planes who tell me things about their lives. Without fail, each person seems remarkable: The mail carrier's wife from Long Island; the secretary to the former owner of the Warriors; and one of the most interesting--during a 50-block shared taxi ride down Fifth Avenue--an interior designer who'd tired of the Dalai Lama ("everything he says is so obvious"). I love these encounters and sometimes write about them in travel blogs.
The other day, taking a break from helping out at the Pantry, I was eating lunch when a man sat down across from me with a pot of tea and a banana. He introduced himself as Stanley, from Kenya. He's a Quaker and works as a custodian at the Friends Church four days a week.
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| Stanley |
He began asking friendly questions. How often did I volunteer? How did I like it? Usually I'm the questioner in encounters with strangers, revealing little about myself. I countered with questions. How long was he in the U.S.? Three years, accompanying his wife while she earns an MBA and soon a Ph.D. What was he doing while he was here? Helping his wife with research, working at the church, and mentoring young African-American men in East Oakland.
He asked what I'd done when I was employed. I said I'd been a writer. And what did he do in Kenya? He's a writer. Ha! After that, we got down to what we like to write about (him: young people. Me: everything, including mortality, a topic he vigorously protested, waste of time, he said). I took his picture and told him I might write a blog post about him. He laughed and said fine.
While he's here, Stanley's writing feature articles in Swahili and sending them back to Kenya. He seemed to think Jerry's job sounded pretty interesting and hinted that he would be a good subject for an article.
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