Listening = Travel

Travel is about more than seeing new sites, being in a new place, a new country.  For me it is every nanobyte as much about the people I meet and the stories I hear.

I want to know what other people’s lives are like. So yeah, I’m the type of person who talks to everyone and anyone. If I had a teen he/she would die of embarrassment every other day as I talk with strangers in line at the grocery store, in restaurants and just walking down the street (and yeah, that's both before and after the arrival of deafness).

On a solo trip to Amsterdam in the late ‘90s, I was sitting on a bench outside the Opera House in Waterlooplein after a morning at the Jewish Historical Museum, an impressive, moving place, and the nearby, wild and somewhat overwhelming Waterlooplein Flea-market. I needed to sit and ponder/wonder on all that I’d seen.

While sitting and staring into the cloudless, pale cerulean sky a young man came up and asked if he could join me on the bench.  I’m the ultimate wary city dweller and not a trusting soul, despite my gregarious tendencies, but I said “sure.” You know, you can't live if you don't play.

I started the conversation by asking him where he was from -- he was black, in the very pale Netherlands, and spoke English with accent I couldn’t place. South Africa. After a bit of time and many questions on my part, he surprised me. He was along on his white South African boyfriend’s business trip. The two had been a couple for some time, since well before apartheid officially ended. His partner had an exceptionally good job so my new friend didn’t need to work. He didn’t feel at all exploited (yeah, I asked. I’m obnoxious like that) and was very happy in the relationship. He was a ballet fan so we busted a few arabesques before parting.

Later, while sitting at a bar half watching European MTV, I stumbled into the bartender’s rant on how immigrants were ruining the Netherlands. I was a bit stunned -- in previous  visits to this pub he’d seemed like a kindred spirit, an aging hippy type. I sat, listened, asked questions and kept my non-resident feelings/opinions to myself. He intended to put in just one more year at the bar and then retire to his houseboat on one of the canals. I took this as the rant’s coda and moved on to the Jamaican coffee house farther down the Prinsengracht where everyone was thoroughly engrossed in the football match.

Travel -- a great way to rid ourselves of absolutist notions about ourselves as well as the  rest of the world.

Now, when I have the travel urge but can’t get away for a full fledged adventure, I head for the local tourist hotels and ask Jen to listen for folks with accents. If they look friendly we start with “Hi, where are you from” and off we go on our virtual holiday excursion.