I had just finished going through security at Sky Harbor International Airport, preparing for my trip to fly to Georgia. Normally, I travel with slip on shoes (I agree with the security scene in Up in the Air), but I knew I’d be a rural site, and dress shoes seemed a bit much, so I needed a moment to sit down and tie my shoes. One bench was already occupied by a couple and their large collection of carry-on luggage, so I sat down on a bench next to a small kid.
“Hello…”
He caught me by surprised. I hadn’t expected any conversation, but he continued.
“…where are you going?”
“Atlanta. What about you?”
“I’m going to Canada.”
“I was just there… near the Olympics”
“I saw that. Your sweatshirt says Canada. I LOVE the Olympics…”
For the next few minutes he told me about everything he liked about the Olympics including a special section all about he mascots. When it came time to leave, his parents smiled, and he said goodbye.
“Have fun in Canada.” I said to him during his departure.
“Probably not,” he replied, “it’s going to snow.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
I’ve been really lucky in my past few trips with incredibly nice and outgoing people on my flights. That trip to Atlanta included a really pleasant conversation with a retiree from outside Winnipeg who was returning with his wife to see their newest Grandchild. On my return from Vancouver a few days prior, I visited with an incredibly nice woman from norther British Columbia who spent several months of the year near me in Phoenix. Even in security, I ended up chatting with a group of people who gave me tips on upcoming vacation plans. It’s been quite nice.
I’m normally not this outgoing. I know, that seems odd if you regularly hang out with me, but when I travel, I tend to utilize the quiet time. I read a lot. I watch DVDs. I sleep. On most occasions, I don’t talk with those around me, but I’ve been open to this possibility a bit more recently.
While at the Olympics, I had two brothers come up to me during an afternoon trip to the Irish House and simply say, “Hello.” We got to talking. After a few minutes, they explained that their brother lives in America, that they were bummed that he couldn’t be at the Olympics with them, and that since I was by myself that afternoon, they’d love for me to join them for a bit if I wanted. Normally, I’d be opposed to the idea, letting my fear of stranger danger prevent any further contact, but I figured it was worth the experience. They ended up treating me to a meal and introducing me to a bunch of their friends. Everyone was so kind.
At the end, one of the brothers left his Canadian touque (hat) on the bench. I tossed it to him, and he tossed it back.
“I want you to have it.”
I tried to give it back, but he insisted.
“You’re a cool guy. We’ve enjoyed meeting you. I know it’s the Olympics and we’re suppose to be in competition at times since you’re American, but I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you. I want you to keep the touque and remember people getting along. Remember Canada and remember this Olympic spirit.”
It was such a nice thought. The brothers extended great kindness to me, a stranger. We visited for less than two hours in total, but the interaction was great. They shared a bit about their lives, and I shared a bit about mine.
I wish we all could do this a bit more. Perhaps that is why I’ve been open to meeting new people a bit more.
After all, the whole thing began with a simple, “Hello.”