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.

from Madison via train and memories

Dragon Mood? -- relaxed, sentimental and remembering

Chillin' out in my PJs, I'm here in Madison, at Caroline's house, enjoying a quiet, lazy day. Lina is finishing up her work week with a "Friday" Wendishday.

This evening, we've got plans to drink a loaded-up Bloody Mary at a local pub. Dinner plans are still evolving.

Tomorrow morning, we have a breakfast date at a local eatery called Lazy Janes and then we're hitting one of Caroline's favorite spots, St. Vinny's. Tomorrow afternoon, we'll grab up the dog and head down to Chicago to join Ruth, Paul, Josh, Aaron and Jess for some serious March Madness basketball watching. Oh yes, and maybe a little drinking and painting and cooking and kitchen-planning thrown in there for variety and amusement.

I thoroughly enjoyed my train ride yesterday ... my FIRST train ride in probably over 20 years! The ride was smoother then I remembered them being. I rode "backwards," ... facing backwards, that is; it was only until we were in Indiana, did I realize that half of the railcar's seats face foward and half face rearward. I had plunked myself into the first available seat, never realizing I had a choice!

Riding in a train, listening to the muted "whoo-whoo" of the whistle as we crossed one road after another, evoked many, many memories, young child memories of my grandmother, Nana, and her traveling on train to visit us. We would drive to Des Moines to pick her up at the train station.

I remember being afraid of the immensity of the train itself, its noisy clanking, the hiss of steam brakes (I presume) and this unfamiliar metallic smell that I disliked. I also remember being totally exhilarated at the prospect of Nana's visit. I can see her being helped down off of the train by a porter, all decked out in a dark suit, her little fox fur capelet draped around her shoulders. She had on a little hat that included some artfully-arranged netting on her permed hair and she wore makeup and lipstick. She exuded the fragrance of Chanel No. 5.

Ruth and I couldn't wait to sit next to her in the backseat of the car on the ride home to Ames. Dad drove while Mom sat next to him, although she spent most of the trip turned around, talking to her mom. They exchanged news and local gossip of LaGrange and the surrounding area. I remember feeling lulled by the rhythms of their conversation, a familiar give-and-take, that gave me a fulfilled sense of joy, safety and "all's right with the world." Nana was here!

Such wonderful child-memories, all from a simple train ride!