Once Friends, Always Friends

It only takes a moment to become friends, to fall in love with someone. An open look into another person's face, to give a welcoming smile or nod, that can be enough to connect my heart to a new friend. Sometimes such a meeting is followed by a slow building of confidences, stories, personal histories as we search for and forge connections and commonalities. But even if we don't have much time together our minds have touched and we know each other, know we will always share friendship.

In 1995 I went to the UN World Conference for Women, NGO Forum near Beijing, China. My goal was to make a friend from every continent. I walked with my heart open. One morning, as I was going quickly between workshop offerings I passed a woman who was also walking with her heart and eyes open. I recognized her as a person I wanted to get to know, to build a friendship with and turned to follow and catch up with her. She had also turned to find me! We spent five minutes sharing a little about ourselves, then traded contact information, embraced and said goodbye. My life has always been richer for that time spent together. I wrote several letters and received one from her. But she was from Libya, at that time a country labeled as an American enemy, a forbidden place by my government. My letters and hers were censored. Yet I still carry her in my heart.

This summer we have visited many friends. I felt loved and honored by spending time with each of them and building on our earlier connections.

Most recently we stayed with Joon and Shim (and their daughters Shina and Dona) who we first got to know through Steve's work as an English as a Second Language teacher in Brattleboro, Vermont. When they moved to Vancouver, British Columbia from Brattleboro we stayed in touch and even visited on an earlier trip west. Then we moved to Mexico, changed our email and Joon changed his email. We lost each other. We tried the old phone numbers, we tried asking mutual friends for the new contact information without any luck. We were lost to each other. Then one day as I was working in the garden in Papagayos Steve burst out of the house with wonderful news. Shina had invited him to be a friend on Facebook, we could connect. What a joy to hear again from our friends.

Last week when we arrived at their door Shim said, “You look just the same.” She said it in clear English which had not been available to her the last time we visited five years ago. The girls had grown, of course, from giggling grade-schoolers into thoughtful middle and high school students. Both are now published writers. Shina showed us her portfolio of art work; Dona gave us a tour of her Facebook page with photos of many friends and adventures.

Joon pressed many books on us to read during our visit. He has spent the past five years developing the Creative Writing for Children Society. One book held Shina's story called “Facefriends,” an account of using the online social networking service to locate her best friend from second grade. I laughed out loud at her list of details from living in southern Vermont and wept tears of joy at her reunion with her dear friend.

One evening after a dinner of delicious traditional Korean food Joon announced, “Tonight I will take you to meet our friends, Shawn and Jo Ann.” He had us go up to their neighbor's front door, only two block from their house, and knock. He coached us to inquire where to find Joon and Shim. Shawn just laughed and said, “They are hiding by the garage door!” We all laughed. These four Korean Canadians clearly enjoy each other's company.

Jo Ann, round faced and lively, told of their surprise reunion. Shawn and Jo Ann were taking a week of vacation from their home in Winnipeg, Manitoba to Vancouver, B. C. and had decided to spend Sunday morning at the Korean Church. But it had been noisy and she felt restless. Jo Ann decided to leave the service and go to the washroom. On the way she heard someone call her name. In this strange place, so many kilometers from home, who could possibly know her? She turned and saw a grownup version of a girl she had sung with in high school choir back in Seoul, Korea. Shim rushed to her and they had embraced and haven't let their friendship go since then.

Joon and Shim have plans to move again this summer. We promised to stay in touch and sorely wish we could give then a hand with packing and moving, but we have our plans to go to Alaska.

As we head out on the road again, my mind goes to my Libyan friend. In 2004 our countries naturalized relationships, opening the way for trade and communication again. I hope someday we will have a surprise reunion, the chance to cook traditional foods for each other, to sing and walk the same path together for a while. To fall more deeply in love and smile as we pose for pictures together.

Green Angels

I heard about the Green Angels the first time I went to Mexico back in the 1960's. The Green Angels are bilingual mechanics paid by the Mexican government to aid tourists and other travelers on the nation's highways. They cruise all the major routes looking for motorists that need help. They carry spare gasoline and diesel fuel, jacks and tools, a limited selection of hoses and belts and wire and hardware, and a generous amount of mechanical ability and common sense. Their service is free.

As we were driving north along a lonely highway toward the border we developed a coolant leak at our radiator's drain valve. I tried to close it tighter, but no matter what I did the coolant kept dripping out. We used most of the drinking water we were carrying to add to the radiator to keep the engine cool, but we kept driving knowing that eventually we'd get to the next city where we could find a radiator shop.

All of a sudden I recognized an oncoming vehicle as being a potential source of help. I hadn't been thinking about the Green Angels, but when I saw the approaching utility truck painted white with a large green stripe, I instantly remembered everything I'd heard about these angels of mercy on the Mexican highways. Only seconds before they passed us, I flashed our headlights. As I pulled off onto the shoulder they slowed and turned around and came back to where I had parked.

Victor and Jorge greeted us cheerily as they stepped from their truck and we shook hands. Then they inquired how they might help us. We showed them the coolant leak and they tried a couple ideas for fixing it, although they weren't successful. They did give us directions to the nearest radiator shop along our route where we would be able to have another drain plug installed.

As Victor was looking at our radiator, he glanced over the engine and noticed a worn spot on a vacuum line that was leaking air. He insisted on replacing that section of hose. I think he would have been disappointed if they hadn't been able to fix something for us.

Before sending us on our way, they asked us to fill out a brief form that they were required to submit for each incident. When we got to the comments sections and started to write in Spanish our appreciation for their service, they laughed and requested us to rewrite it in English. Maybe they get more credit from their boss for assisting foreign tourists.

As we said goodbye, we thanked them for their help and they wished us well. I was glad that after all these years of knowing about the Green Angels I finally had the opportunity to take advantage of their assistance. I will add this experience to a long list of examples of Mexican hospitality.