India: Part 2

Three months ago, I ran at a flat-out sprint from the NYC subway, to the JFK Air Train, from the Air Train to Terminal 5, through security, and finally reaching the departure gate for my flight home,  just as the agent was preparing to shut the door.  Whew!

Grateful to have made it (after grossly miscalculating how much of a delay there would be getting to the airport due to the NYC Marathon that day), I sank breathlessly into my window seat, while apologizing to the two people next to me that I'd just climbed over, who were no doubt hoping that they'd have the row to themselves. (I always feel guilty when I get a window seat and a paying customer is in the middle.) (I have often offered to switch seats, when I'm feeling compassionate.)  (I was completely exhausted that day, and had firm plans to sleep the entire way home.) (That didn't happen.)

We struck up a conversation, the three of us, and in a singular occurrence in all my flying (which is eleven years this month) (!!!!), we ended up talking the entire flight.  Our conversation continued through deplaning, down to baggage claim, then outside till they got in a cab for their hotel.

Turned out V and M (as I'll refer to them here) were newlyweds, and they'd been enroute for about 26 hours at that point, traveling from their home in India where where he is from and where they now live, to the states where she is from.  

When I found out they were coming from India, I of course lit up. In fact, I likely started gushing.  "I love India! I love the food, the people. I've loved the movies and plays set in India that I've seen. I've read books by Indian authors. I don't know why, but I just love India." (which love commenced as described in my last post). 

Meeting them was serendipitous because, as an American woman who had traveled around India, and who now lives there, M is uniquely positioned to give me tips on when and where to go, what to see, and advise on the Safety Factor (which became a concern for me after watching Slumdog Millionaire). She's also a Mormon, like me, so we had that additional connection.  I got out my laptop and began taking notes on everything they said, presuming this was my one big chance to get an inside scoop.

I don't know if I've ever been more captivated than I was during those hours that we flew across the continent, sharing their hummus, salsa and chips (grateful, as I was completely starving) and learning about how they met (at at TED Conference of all places! I'm crazy about TED talks...as my regular readers may know), and getting to know them.

And then somehow, early in the conversation, I discovered something amazing:
V grew up knowing Mother Theresa. 

I was actually SITTING NEXT TO someone who had not only met, but KNEW Mother Theresa!  (I shook his hand, so if you like, you can be 2 hand-shakes away from shaking hers.) 

V's grandfather had, as it turned out, managed all the finances for Mother Theresa's organization for many many decades, and is still involved even though she passed away in 1997.  I couldn't believe it. I briefly mentioned my dream, and he shared some anecdotal stories with me that he knew about her.

I painted a miniature picture of my peacock.
This is actual size.

The time flew quickly by.  When we landed, V pulled our bags down from the overhead bin, and then surprised me by presenting me with a blue velvet box. "We have a gift for you" he said, handing it to me. How they could have a gift for me when we'd just met on the plane was apparently beside the point. Inside was a beautiful silver peacock figurine. I have always loved the colors of the peacock (beta fish, too), and this little guy was so pretty.  What a thoughtful gesture!

We exchanged contact info, vowing to keep in touch. They invited us to visit them in India, which increases the likelihood of me going there exponentially, (I enjoy knowing people in the places I visit. Adds depth and richness to the experience.) and we parted ways. I assumed it would be quite some time before we saw each other again.

But happily, an opportunity presented itself just last month. V had to come to the states again, and we had the pleasure of starting off 2012 by hosting him during his visit. 

We had a wonderful time, going for a hike in our lovely canyon, visiting the lights at Temple Square, eating gelato, and just learning more about him, his lovely wife M, and India in general. Both of them are now on the list of people I know who are doing amazing things with their lives. Who make a difference in the world (it's quite an impressive list). 

It fascinates, inspires, and also frustrates me...since I can't seem to zero in on what direction to focus my energies, to still be stumped about what course I should pursue with my free time, and with the next phase of my life (which will be upon me in six short years when Gator graduates). But a conversation at dinner one evening gave me a tiny glimpse into one way to figure it out. I asked V, "how did you decide to get involved in and do the specific things that you are doing with your time and resources?" 

Bunch, V, and Doc on our hike in Millcreek Canyon

(note: I had researched him before he came to stay with us...a point I admitted to him openly since I knew I'd want to ask him about them, and also to let him know that I'm not in the habit of bringing random people into my home who might be creepers, even though there was honestly no possibility of that with him...you just know when you meet some people. You know? Should also note that M has an impressive record of actively making the world a better place, too. They're quite a pair. In my searching, I had discovered an array of things that he is involved in that he'd likely never have mentioned himself because of his modest nature.)

Anyway, his reply was the first thing that has given me a glimmer of insight: "I think it primarily comes down to the experiences I've had in my life, because of my family, and what I was exposed to." 

This comment brought to mind a statement made by a man named Henry Eyring, about a time when he was taught that our experiences aren't just for ourselves, and was instructed to "write them down" so he could share them with others.  

This led me think that perhaps my experiences, those things that I have learned and
gone through that have shaped and formed me into the person I am today, maybe those are somehow connected to what I should do with the next phase of my life. 

I had a lot of momentum a few years ago when I began writing a memoir (inspired by Jeanette Walls The Glass Castle, because her book really changed my life), which fizzled out for a number of reasons that I won't delineate right now, but a big one is that I still have work to do on that journey of healing. But perhaps something in that realm, using what I've gone through and overcome to help others in the same situation? I don't know for sure yet, but it was nice to have some tiny spark of inspiration.

I gave the miniature painting of Philippe the Peacock to V and M, as a thank you/reminder of our serendipitous encounter and the resultant friendship.  I'm hoping that in the next year or so we'll be able to make it over to see them and experience India first hand (maybe someone will be able to teach me how to make naan and cook makhani and tikka masala sauce to rival that found at my favorite restaurant, Bombay House) (and maybe I'll get to have my own, bona fide Mother Theresa experience).

And that's the story, people. You just never know what's around the bend, do you?