I arrived at Baltimore/Washington International airport bright and early at 10:30 am. Subtract an hour for the time difference, and then three more to account for flying time, and you'll understand my disposition upon landing.
In dire need of coffee.:)
I hit the restrooms where I emptied my suitcase trying to rummage around for my make-up. Why is it, I wondered, that a woman's make-up cannot stay put for a three hour flight? Neither my suitcase nor my face seemed to want to accommodate my need for a fresh outlook on life.
30 minutes later, I emerged, feeling like I could at least
approach a barista without looking too desperate.
Coffee in hand, I wandered over to an arrivals screen and scanned the incoming flights. My parent's plane was due in at 1:30pm. I looked at my watch. 11:45. I guess I had some time to kill, eh? Glancing over at a row of seats near their terminal exit, I noticed they were mostly empty except for a young woman of Indian descent who was busily typing on her computer. Since I was looking for a quiet place to enjoy my coffee and make some phone calls, I parked myself at the other extreme end of the row.
I smiled at the woman as I arranged my baggage and she commented on how cold it was in Baltimore, and how she had come ill-prepared. I glanced at the rain outside and grimaced. I hadn't brought a raincoat, and with highs in the 60's, I would surely freeze. I shared with a chuckle that I had once been a thick-skinned northerner, but no more. I fervently hoped that the weather warmed up.
I found my cell phone and pondered who I should call first when she once again interrupted my thoughts with benign questions as to my business in Baltimore. I told her that I was meeting my parents for the baptism of my sister's firstborn. I was spending the weekend with friends, hoping to connect with many more friends before my return home on Sunday.
She, on the other hand, she shared, was here just for one day. For a job interview.
Thus began her tale.
She was born and raised in India, finishing her college studies over there before coming to the States. When she came here, she landed a job in the I.T. world and easily slipped into the American way of life.
She had a few boyfriends, was even engaged at one point, and has been living with her current boyfriend for some time, wondering if he is ever going to propose. She is in her mid-thirties, and finally feels stable enough to start a family, she tells me... although she has been unemployed for 6 months, and she is afraid that she will lose her work visa and her boyfriend. A woman has to look out for herself, she declares. Men are not dependable.
There is an awkward pause.
I know I am supposed to share my life somehow. But after listening to this woman... this
everywoman of America, who can barely speak the language, who comes from a country where the elders would surely frown on such a negation of traditional values, I am speechless. How to reach her? How to make my life not quite so bizarre so that maybe she could relate? What should I say?
I say a quick prayer to the Holy Spirit and start off small.
I tell her I have five children.
I think she almost dropped her laptop.
:)
She sputters that it's unbelievable... so uncommon, so surprising! So.... unlike the typical American culture.
And that last thing is what inspired me to continue. I simply said that we do not follow the way of American culture. To us, family is what is most important. Our house, our cars, all are indicative of this choice. We have no boat, no in-ground pool, no cruise vacations. We chose to have five children. We are blessed that I don't have to work outside the home, so I can home school the kids. We are blessed to live in a state that respects that choice.
As I painted this picture of our life, the loneliness of this poor woman became apparent. She herself is one of five children, she says. She clearly missed those chaotic days of family life. And she was beginning to see that a typical American's life is barren and empty.
So, she demands,
are people happy? Really and truly happy?Wow, I think. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? I told her that I didn't think so. That probably most people thought they were because they were too distracted to feel otherwise. She nodded as we watched three 20-something young men, all attached to their iPODs or cell phones, saunter past. I told her that there must be times, when the silence consumes them, that they think that something must be missing from their lives. But I wondered if they realized what it was.
They have no moral value she declares. And she begins her diatribe against the masculine half of the human race. Apparently, her ex-fiance ditched her for a younger, prettier woman. Men, therefore, are never to be trusted. A woman must always be able to provide for herself. They will cheat, she says.
Every last one of them, she says to me in a warning tone.
Except my husband I shoot back at her with a smile. And then I go on to explain that our relationship is bigger than just the two of us, bigger even than our number of children. The foundation of marriage is what holds it together. The covenant that was made before God to remain faithful and the promise of grace to help us through the rough times is the foundation that our marriage is built on. We are Catholic, I explain. And there are many things that hold us to our promise. We believe it is wrong to cheat on our spouses, and our will to do what God wants of us, along with the help He provides, is what sees us through.
At this point, I wonder if I am getting into taboo territory. But she accepts my explanations with an enthusiastic bobbing of her head, declaring that we "have moral value". But I can tell she is still a bit skeptical of my assurances that my husband will never cheat on me. I understand that it can happen to the best of us, and so I don't push the point too hard.
As we wrap up our conversation, I remind her that she has been wronged, and I don't blame her in the least for being on the defensive. I tell her that it was not meant to be that way, and hopefully someday she will find a man worthy of her trust.
We parted ways, and I was left to ponder over the ground we covered in one short hour. I realized suddenly that we hadn't even exchanged first names. But it didn't matter in the least. Her solitude propelled her to seek friendship and solidarity, and luckily, I was coherent enough to respond. (
thanks to the Holy Spirit and a grande mocha with a triple-shot)
:)
Life is strange. Our journey can be puzzling. Sometimes, even when we do not feel worthy enough to supply the answers, God asks us to try. All made in His image, we are seeking to reach the same goal, whether we know it or not. There is a solidarity in that, a common ground from which to work. In fact, we were meant to reach out in discussion with others along the way.
Just another glimpse into the wisdom of our all-knowing, all-powerful Father.
:)
