A lot of people ask me “What is one of the things you miss about Texas?” I could say our friends (because I do miss them terribly), our church, our house, the cost of living or even Sonic Lemon-Berry Slushes. Tangent potential here…really, there’s a lot of food we miss from the States – Grist Mill’s beef tenderloin sandwiches, Mamacita’s flautas, a good breakfast taco, just good salsa and chips period…I don’t think I’ve had a decent chip or queso in two years..I could go on! Anyway, I actually have to say that we miss the friendliness of people the most.
I think I was hugged more in my first month in Texas than I was in my entire life previous.
Seriously. I would meet people for the first time and they’d hug. Everyone hugs everyone else. I would run into people in the grocery store and they’d hug me. I’d meet someone and they’d hug me. People were very warm and gracious. They laughed really loudly, talked gregariously, were quick to laugh at themselves and generally showed a real lack of self-consciousness. I was absolutely intrigued. To them, I was always the “standoffish” Canadian; an anomaly because I’d stick out my hand for a shake (which they would stare at and then guffaw before galloping me into a rib-cracking hug).
It wasn’t just the hugging. They all talk to each other. I come from a world where you DO NOT make eye contact with strangers. On the SkyTrain, we will literally be packed in like sardines and yet it’s completely, eerily silent. All of a sudden, complete strangers would strike up conversations with me, like we were old friends. For the first few months that I was there, I lived in a constant fear that I was talking to people that knew me from church and I just didn’t remember their names. Nope. They really were strangers. People chatted at restaurants, across tables. If you shopped, you chatted in the line. If you were on a walk or at the park, you’d at least make eye contact and smile if nothing else. There was a tremendous openness that I not only got used to but came to love. I became really quick to hug people – even at work! – and strike up conversations. I’d pepper my conversations with personal tidbits or facts. Professionalism that I had learned earlier seemed pretentious and icy compared to the warmth I encountered everyday.
So then we moved back home. I was back in the land of “don’t make eye contact, don’t talk to people you don’t know and for pity’s sake, never smile at anyone”. We had a hard time adjusting. We’re still the ones at the playground that just start chatting with people and I’m still the one that hugs people at work. (Heck, I even say things like “Bless your heart…” now!) Often, when we are out, we note people that need help and no one ever helps them. One day, a woman that was high on drugs came into the coffee shop and had a meltdown. She was about 6 feet tall and rather dangerous. The poor little girls at the shop were maybe 5’3″ and couldn’t handle her or get her out of the store. There were at least three men in that store but not one of them even looked up from their coffee or bothered to back up the little girls at the shop. They just let it all unfold without feeling a need to step in. (Eventually the police arrived.) People drive past accidents, walk past blind people trying to get on the bus, won’t pick up your umbrella if you drop it and never ever make eye contact. (I’m painting a bleak picture..it’s not quite this bad but feels like it after Texas!).
Anyway, I’ve been really sick with this pregnancy. I was sick with Anne too but that was just morning sickness. Now I’m sick all day and usually several times a day. Anyway, I had to get off the SkyTrain one morning and dash down the platform before throwing up all over my shoes. I couldn’t get to the trash quick enough so I heaved all over the platform and myself, in the pouring rain. I was completely soaked and very, very sick. 30 people walked past me and never said a word while I tried to clean up and kind of cried while feeling sorry for myself.
This week, the same thing happened again. I dashed off the train at Edmonds and ran into the parking lot this time. I hung over the plants and threw up for a while. About 10 people walked right past me. Then a mini-van pulled up. It was dark green and at least 15 years old. A couple about my age were inside. The man leaped out and ran over to me with concern etched on his face.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a strong Mexican accent. “Can we take you somewhere? Maybe the hospital or even home?”
I kind of laughed, embarrassed by the mess I’d made and said “Oh, no! Really, I’m fine. I’m just 3 months pregnant and sick all the time right now. I’m sorry.” (Ah, the requisite Canadian apology…)
His entire face lit up.
“You’re PREGNANT?” he said. “That’s wonderful! Congratulations! What a blessing! Here, hold on.”
He ran back to his wife and she handed him a bunch of napkins and bunched up Kleenex. He raced back to me and shoved them in my hands.
“Well, are you sure you’re okay? I mean, congratulations! This is just wonderful news!” He was so excited and completely animated. His wife was smiling broadly and waving at me, giving me the thumbs-up sign.
I ended up thanking them and assuring them I was fine to get back on the train and continue to work. They stayed to make sure I got on okay and then drove off.
I was so blessed by the encounter. Just something as simple as giving me a hunk of kleenex while I was throwing up seemed like the kindest of actions.
