Chance meeting – the kind that makes trips to unknown lands memorable
“Solo tourist, huh?”
I heard the voice from behind me.
Having just reached Wadi Al-Mujib, I was measuring up the river and the prospect of having to wade thru it all the way. I had sort of expected it to be like Wadi Shab in Oman where it was a dry hike till you reached the lake. This one, however, I realized, was going to be completely in the water. I also realized the wisdom in the urging of the guy at the gate to keep my bag behind and change into water shoes. Which, I had duly ignored.
Looking behind, I saw the young lady looking at me. There was nobody nearby. I deduced she was addressing me.
“Solo tourist, it is!”, I replied.
“Want to hike together?”
“Why not? That way, you can pull me up from the water when I fall down.”
“Do you know swimming?”
“Not enough to save my life with a backpack on my back”
“I do not know swimming”.
“Okay. Let’s go as far as we can together. I will not make it to the end. I do not want the bag to get wet. This will help in taking pictures of each other too”.
“Deal”
And with that we started exploring the canyon valley while wading thru the water. The views were simply breathtaking (you can see them in prior posts). We stopped often to take pictures of the views and of each other on our respective phones. I was not carrying my DSLR (which was a good thing – it would have gotten wet). I also realized that I really need the latest version of the iPhone.
“Where are you visiting from?”, I asked her during the wade.
“Sudan”
“Oh! I do not think I know anybody else from Sudan. Khartoum?”
“Yes”
“What do you do there?”
“I work with the United Nations”
“Nice. By the way, what is your name?”
“Besma”
I am not terribly good at foreign names . So, I asked her to spell it for me.
“Well, It is written ‘Basma’. But it is pronounced B-E-S-M-A”
“Got it. In India, there is a similar sounding name – Reshma”.
“What’s your name?”
“Rajib”
“Arabic?”
“No. That would be Rajab. Mine is with ‘i’. R-A-J-I-B. Rajib Roy”
“Wait. Roy from India. Are you related to the famous Roy family in Delhi?”
“I have no idea which family you are talking about, but I assure you that I am not related to anybody famous. And how do you know about a Roy family in Delhi?”
“I have been to Delhi. In fact, twice to India”
“For Untied Nations?”
“No. With my ex-inlaws. For their business.”
“Wait. Ex-in-laws. Ok. Now I get it.”
“Get what?”
I laughed and told her how I am terrible in computing relationships especially when a divorce is involved. I told her the funny story from 1996 when my colleague Stacy had mentioned “my ex-stepfather” and it had taken me a full 10 minutes to unentangle how you can put an “ex” and a “step” in the same relationship!
Anyways, thru the rest of the trip, I got to know about all the exciting places Basma has been to (and she has been to a lot of countries). She seemed very free spirited. I was especially impressed by how much of local knowledge and culture she has learnt in all those trips.
At some point, the water became too deep for me to save the backpack. We exchanged contacts and I turned back.
Reflecting back, one thing I learnt from her is that I need to make a lot more of these trips to different parts of the world. Especially lesser known parts of the world. There is so much to learn from people you meet randomly on the road from so many different backgrounds.
The world is so big and beautiful. And the first thing we do is put four walls around us and stay put there!
An old tradition – relived
One of the best ways to learn about a new country, I have found, is to make friends with a local driver and then keep him or her for the whole trip. Usually that relationship starts from the trip from the airport to the hotel or the first trip out of the hotel.
There have been some incredible learnings on the way. Like Jorge taking us to a completely desolate waterfall that no visitors visit. Or Giacomo taking us to a beautiful spot for lunch when I asked him “Where would you take your girlfriend to that is not visited by tourists?” in Italy. There was I Wayan in Indonesian, Juan in Chile, Henrique in Azores, Mohammad in Oman…. I have about 15 such great friends in my list. What always started with strangers on a drive invariably continued as a lifelong friendship. Of course, the annual birthday calls are always there to remind each other of the great memories I still cherish.
This trip, I made – hopefully another life long – relationship with Mahmoud. He picked me up from the airport and we hit it off immediately. He was, of course, extremely knowledgeable about the whole place. But more importantly, he got it very quickly that I was more interested in places of natural beauty and far less in historical importance.
We got to know about each others’ families. I was very excited to hear about his two sons’ career plans. Hopefully, they will all visit us in the US sometime.
Meanwhile, I cannot wait to go back to Jordan with my family and meet his family!

Went to meet an old friend
Ashley and we got to know each other during the Covid days when we would drive to Pig Tales and sit by the lake side. Most of the time, she would get us the food and drink. We got to know her and her family very well. She was going to get married to Mark in October that year if I remember correctly. I still have the picture of the wedding dress she had picked and sent to Sharmila and myself.
Lot has changed since the Covid days. She is now happily married to Mark. The sons have grown up so much. And she works now in Twisted Oar. Which is where we drove the boat to meet her!

A stranger no more!!
For a person who suffers from acute acrophobia AND claustrophobia (to the point of having to be medicated at times), I find myself in an aluminum tube way up some thirty five thousand feet in the air with disturbing frequency.
And yet those eight million frequent flyer miles got me to meet so many human beings from every walk of life. Interactions that have enriched me and often humbled me as a human being.
Nikita, Sharmila and I had just finished our TSA stuff at Washington National airport after a college visit for Nikita. We strolled thru the airport leisurely dodging all the passengers running in and out of the planes and then took the elevator to the Delta Skyclub.
After we were checked in, I told the girls – “You folks go ahead. I am going to talk to that lady”. And I pointed out to the second lady who was checking in another passenger.
I waited patiently as she helped the passenger. And then when he was done, he walked up to her. And she welcomed me to the Club.
“Welcome to the Club. Can I check you in?”
“Well, I am already checked in. I am here to talk to you.”
“About what?”, she asked, justifiably confused.
“Well, I used to fly into this airport every week for two years spanning 2010-2012. You used to usher me in then. In spite of the mask you are wearing, I am very sure you are the same person.”
“Well, of course! I used to be here then too! You remember me?”
“I do indeed”
“What is your last name?”
“Roy”
“I see you have two young ladies with you today”, she said as she quickly located me in the system.
“Yes, my wife and daughter. They are sitting inside.”
“Roy? Bengali?”
“Yes!”
“Bangla boltey paren?” (Can you speak in Bengali?)
“Oboshhoi” (But, of course)
“Kemon Aachen?” (How are you?)
“How do you know Bengali?”
Well, Jatindar (her name) came into the lounge and spent some time with Sharmila and Nikita. And that is when I got my answer. While she is from Delhi, she used to live in Kolkata when she was in school. In fact, she went to Brabourne College! Like Sharmila, she moved to the US after getting married.
We went around the Club and I told her all the details from a decade back that have changed now (for the better).
Before she took leave, we let her know that DC is the city Nikita is headed for college this year. She is going to see more of Sharmila and me the next few years.
“I can’t wait”… she said as she waved walking away.
My thoughts kept floating in and out… Neither can I !! It is people like you that make life in an aluminum tube – nay, life in general – so much more exciting and interesting!!!
If any of you happen to be in the Delta Skyclub in Washington National airport, do stop by to say Hi to this fine young lady!!

When old compatriots of Dallas…
My first Kurdish friend!
The vans picked us up from our hotel to take us to the winery an hour away where we were going to have our Corporate offsite. Anand, our local executive in Portland, had taken care of all the logistics.
I got to sit in the front next to the driver. The team knows I suffer from car sickness among other things – like fear of heights, fear of closed places and sometimes, sheer lunacy. Maybe I enjoy the last bit rather than suffer from it.
In any case, I sit next to the driver. A complete stranger. But then again, as Kelly had once described me “You know no stranger”
“What is your name?”, I asked the young, rather comely looking driver.
“Abraham”, replied the soft spoken gentleman without talking his eyes off the road.
“So, have you lived all your life in Portland?”
“No, sir! For fifteen years.”
“Where were you before this?”
“Kurdistan”
“Wait, what??”
“You know Kurdistan?”
“Of course, I know Kurdistan. I love your music.”
“Really?”, he asked looking at me, for the first time taking his eyes off the road for a split second.
“Wait. How is your name Abraham? Are you not a Muslim?”
“Yes. But there are a lot of Jewish people in Kurdistan.”
“I did not know that. Are you Jewish?”
“No. My mother’s best friend was. And when I was born, she had asked if my mom would name me Abraham (a Jewish name). And that was how I got my name.”
“Fascinating!”
“But you said you love our music.”
“Yes, my favorite song from your place is Kamarey Kamarey. I have heard the one by the Rashtak group. Do you know that song?”
For the second time, he took his eyes off the road.
“You know Kamarey Kamarey?”
“Well, I know the tune. But I do not know the meaning.”
“Wow! I have never met anybody in this country who knows our country songs. How do you know songs from our country?”
I explained to him that when I had first learnt that the gypsies in Romania actually originated from Rajasthan, India, I had looked up their migration path. And studied what effect it had to the local music. As nomads, you do not show your culture thru paintings and artisanship. You will have too many things to carry a\round. So, music was the way. That time, I had listened to a lot of songs from places like Kurdistan, Azerbaijan etc.
I told him that in India, “Kamarey” can roughly mean a room or the waist in different languages. What was it in Kurdish? I learnt that the song lyrics were referring to the waist!! What a connection!
I got to know that my young friend Abraham went from Kurdistan to Turkey and then eventually left Turkey for the USA. I also found out that he knew Farsi.
Sticking to the theme of music, I asked him –
“You know Farsi? Here is another song you might know. Have you heard…” and then in my terrible Farsi pronunciation, I went on to sing “Man Ahmad-e Aam”.
He immediately took his eyes off the road and stared at me. “Oi, oi”?
“Oi,oi”, I confirmed.
We both knew the song!! But neither could remember the singer. We could describe how she looked but for the life of us, we could not remember her name.
By this time, we had reached our destination. Abraham and I took a picture together, became Facebook friends and parted.
That night, I had a FB message from him… “Googoosh, Mr. Roy”
Googoosh it was!! I suddenly remembered the Iranian singer’s name!!
I can’t wait to meet Abraham the next time I am in Portlandia!!

A determined lady!
I cannot remember when I was introduced to Snowy – maybe 3 years back – but I remember I was introduced by her sister Ariel who used to work in the same hospice that I volunteered in at that time. Snowy was looking for a mentor and asked me if I would spend some time with her. (I know, I know, young people can have very low standards 🙂 ).
Over the last couple of years, we have talked about various topics – about her studies (she went back to college to study Accounting), her job, interviews, navigating company politics etc etc. But I never got a chance to sit with her face to face.
Today, over coffee, I got to know her a little more. What had struck me when I first talked to her was her unusual level of determination and the willingness to work hard for it. Today, she took me thru her family history and that made her determination even more impressive.
I have no doubt in my mind that Snowy is going to make a great professional of herself some day!

Ran into an old friend from Equifax at the local Starbucks
The other Chakraborty-Dutta duo
Last week I met Baisakhi and her son – Utsab (alias Kintu) in Durgapur. Missed Sagar since he was in Kolkata for some work. While I almost always meet them in their house, about six years back, I had the chance to meet all of them in the USA. They were visiting Sagar’s brother in Minnesota and I had shown up! Actually to keep a promise to Utsab.
I did not get a chance that day to meet Sagar’s brother Suban (alias Kuntal) but I did meet his sister in law – Tumpa. Ever since, I have kept up with them (Tumpa and Kuntal – and by the way – no surprises on the usual FB friendship, birthday calls etc). They eventually moved to Orlando.
And I was in Orlando for a conference. You can do the math now. Fortunately, this time, I did get to meet Kuntal and we had a good “adda”. The highlight was to meet their dogs before we said good bye!
I also realized something else – both the brothers married a Dutta girl. Baisakhi’s maiden name was Dutta – just like Tumpa’s! Much like my brother and I – both of us married a “Ghose” girl. In our case, my sister married a “Ghose” boy too!!



