Where did you say you're from?

Dragon Mood? -- recalling an unexpected encounter

While you always hear about the advantage of meeting interesting people when traveling, I didn't think it would happen so readily and fully to me.

After riding the Metra train from north Chicago to Union Station, I had time to kill. The waiting area was more crowded than I had expected, so I had to hunt and search for an open, available seat. I found one near a gate, where the rigid, plastic seats were rather mashed together. There were two women seated to my right. I thought they were traveling companions, because they were talking.

Shortly after I sat down, the first woman asked if she could borrow a pen. I lent her one which she then passed to the second woman who I'll call Beret Woman. Upon receiving my pen back, Beret Woman got up and slowly, arthritically hobbled away. The first woman turned to me and said, "She's making a mistake." She shook her head for emphasis. "She's gonna ride the train for two nights in coach. Two nights! That's too long. She's gonna ride all the way to L.A. in coach."

I asked her where she was headed and she replied, "Alburquerque."

"Which is home," I asked, "Chicago or Alburquerque?"

She smiled and said, "I live in Hawaii." I chuckled at her unexpected answer.

This woman, I never did find out her name, told me she has traveled to Alburqueque, oh, at least 30 times. Wow! I never got a clear answer as to why she visited there so many times. She did refer a couple of times to traveling only in the winter. She has a job from April until September or October. Hmmm.

She showed me her Hawaiian driver's license so I could see the fingerprint that only the state of Hawaii requires. Stupidly (now, in hindsight), I never thought to look at her name. Duh! We talked about train travel, sushi, living in Hawaii, why do people rush around, her distaste for television and computers, among other things.

Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. "I'm sorry if I appear nosey, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me. What kind of job do you have that you work six months out of the year?" I asked.

She smiled again and said simply, "I work for the Chicago Cubs."

The light of day must have dawned on my face. "What do you do?"

"I'm an usher. I stand around and make sure people get to their seats."

April to October. Of course! Asking more questions (I must have come across as incredibly nosey), I found out that her husband had died about ten years ago, after the two of them had lived in Hawaii, very simply, among the Hawaiian locals, since the 1970s. She referred to the tourists as "hollies." I kept googling until I found this:

... that most “haoles” (a pejorative term used by native Hawaiians to describe Caucasion tourists) ...

Here's another, more formalized one.

According to Intrepid Hawaiian Traveler, you never want to hang out with haoles when in Hawaii. Seek out the locals and you'll experience a completely different Hawaii.

Back to her story. After her husband died, one of her children, a daughter who lives in Chicago, happened to see an ad seeking ushers for the Chicago Cubs. Intrepid Hawaiian Traveler came to Chicago, applied and got the job. That was nine years ago. Every year, she lives with her daughter in Chicago, spends time with her grandchildren and works for the Cubs for every home game. She smiled the entire time she spoke about it, so I can only conclude that she's happy with the arrangement.

Intrepid lives on Maui ... only in the winter, of course. And only when she's not traveling. Her parting words to me were, "If you're ever in Maui, look me up."

What did I take away from this encounter? (chuckling) A whole lot! The universe sat me down next to a woman who travels alone, sees things for what they are (haoles vs. tourists), has created a life that's full and enjoyable (and works for the Cubs, on top of it!). What an inspiration! Yup, I definitely feel like the universe sent me a gift, a vision of what-could-be in Intrepid Hawaiian Traveler. Thank you, God.