Greetings from damp and chilly London. No matter where I go, there is one communication tool that is universally effective. It opens doors, crosses language boundaries... even gets you a really large piece of fish. I landed at London Heathrow early this morning to find that my brand new, very expensive Blackberry Bold, with the international capabilities, was not working. I am not one of those people who live glued to their cell phones. I do not have carpal tunnel in my thumb joints from constant texting and most of my emails wait until I sit in front of a lap top. But on this trip, alone, relying on the kindness of friends for accommodations and transportation, let me tell you how important that cell phone connection was to me. I was moved by my plane seat mate's kindness, loaning me her cell phone, and then making helpful suggestions that really provided no help, other than letting me know she cared enough to try.
I spent an hour in an unbelievably long customs line, often making eye contact with other weary travelers who shared nothing more with me that a sense of sleepy acceptance. When eyes of different colors and shapes met mine, there was a twinkle, a nod, a raised eye brow, signaling our bond. In any language, that look said, "Yep, it's a long line , but whaddaya gonna do?" These moments of comfort and camaraderie made the wait a little shorter. And the line shuffled along.
I know it's England. We all speak English... of sorts. Signs make sense- kind of. The money is similar... I could be in stranger surroundings, but it IS different. The comfort zone is a long way off. A trip to the grocery is like stepping into Alice's Wonderland. Products and packaging are different. Labels don't make sense. I was not asked, "Paper or plastic?" I heard, "You are paying the bagging fee?" No, I had a bag with me. I was unable to charge my 15 pound purchase- it was under their 20 pound minimum. In New York, I've seen kids put a pack of gum on their debit card. I smiled, told the clerk (or is it clark?) I was visiting and didn't understand. She smiled with sympathy, patiently explained their policy despite the lengthening line behind me and and added a "Luv" at the end, as in "...sorry, luv." I happily handed her a 20 pound note while she again, apologized.
My next stop was the local Fish and Chips shop. The menu behind the counter might as well have been in another language for all the sense it made. I smiled and told the young man I was visiting and didn't quite know what I wanted or what the portions were like. Two other patrons made suggestions. I seemed to move ahead in the line and received my order before the two who had been standing there before I arrived. A lovely older gentleman asked me where I was from and asked if I had any American quarters. I didn't. He explained he had just returned from a 3 week trip to the States, primarily Florida and had managed to collect 38 of the 50 state quarters, but no Floridas! I gave him my card, asked him to email me his address and that I would send him a Florida quarter. His smile was worth all the fish and chips in London. My order came in the clever paper cone and as I left, several patrons were smiling and nodding.
This is just my first day in London, but consistently, with very few exceptions, smiles broke through every language barrier, mood and situation. It opened doors, provided travel directions, a tube pass, use of a cell phone, a place in line and even extra chips! And they were delicious.
Thanks mate.
-Greta Muller
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