Inspired by the website “Off Assignment”
You sat across from me in the train traveling east to Munich in August of 1990. I sat on the west side going forward. You were facing west, traveling backwards. You hadn’t eaten in three days and as our conversation progressed, you admitted to eating nothing but “tinned” food for the last month. We were both twenty years old. I shared some of my “Digestive” crackers purchased back in the train station in Paris.
After the wall came down, you stood in line to get your visa on the first day that you could. Out of East Berlin. When I met you, you had been all over western Europe but mostly in England. You had saved and skimped and saw. You were hungry and looked, to me, deflated to go back.
We spoke about communism, The Wall, Russia and the freedom of travel. We spoke about the meaning of life and the requirements for happiness on this planet. We spoke about the ways in which our governments teach us to fear one another, when everyday humans all want the same things. We spoke of heady things for twenty year-olds. People came and went but we kept talking. In English. Now, I wonder how you knew English so well – it had probably improved steeply in your recent travels.
Our conversation was the one of the top five most powerful conversations of my life. Thank you.
You had no hair: no eyebrows, lashes, arm hair nor stuff on your head. You tried to explain what was going on but I didn’t want to act nosey. Now I know it’s called alopecia but in that moment, I thought it was somehow a side effect of communism.
I bought you a “Happy Meal” from McDonald’s in Munich because it felt like a metaphorical Cold War peace offering and you needed food before you boarded your train to Berlin. I would explore the city before heading down to Austria. For you, your visa and money were up and needed to return to a life you dreaded. For me, it was a stop along the way before heading to my semester in Madrid. My uncle gifted me my Eurail pass for a month and my travel partner had canceled last minute from mono. I thought I was brave to go anyway, alone. I was just barely brave compared to you. For the first time in my life, I profoundly understood how deeply lucky I was. I was changed.
Your life, your experience living under communism (It’s always “under” never “with” or “during”), your need to see the larger world have stayed with me. I wonder where you are and what you are doing with your life. I wonder if you are in an integrated Berlin or perhaps operating a travel agency in London.
Our time together is one of those chinks in the chain that makes magic of travel. References to The Wall coming down brings me to you, to our hours together and to a real human experience, melting the ink of the facts and figures we read in books.