El Dignidad

As I begin the rewind today, back through Mexico City, Matamoros, Brownsville, Houston, Atlanta, and ultimately dear Tallahassee I will be trying my level best to not persecute the chickens I encounter along the way. Travel is always humbling, and often humiliating, and it is frequent that you see someone acting ugly and out of control in a moment of existential displacement. It is also commmon to see little acts of grace, as someone smiles and assures a young mother that their child is not being a bother, or a pack of crackers is shared with a neighbor.

We have all met travel angels, or at least I hope you have. I was given a ride once across the Austrian Border by an old man, his daughter, and her baby girl. It is a long story, but the crux of it is that I was sick, injured, had no I.D. and no money, yet this old man looked me in the eyes and nodded- get in the van.

Over the next two days when the opportunity presents itself, I hope I am able to welcome people into the van.

If you have a tale of travel grace or horror, please, grab the mic.

be home soon,


6 Responses to El Dignidad

  1. If I find out that “cherubic” is Mexican for chubby…

    All kidding aside, hope you have a safe journey back north of the border.

  2. I once was encountered by someone whom I very much think may have been an angel, although the only journey I was on was the one I was making from the old Seminole Tavern on Lake Bradford Road to my home at 2 a.m. many, many years ago.
    I was in the midst of a divorce and my heart was breaking, breaking. As I drove home from the tavern where another stake had been punched through that already too-sore heart, I was sobbing. I stopped at the light on the corner of Franklin Blvd. and Tennessee St and a big ol’- well- hell- it was a pimp-like car- pulled up next to me. The window on the passenger’s side rolled down and I thought, “Shit, this too?”
    But the man behind the wheel (and he could have been a pimp, I’m sorry) simply asked, “You okay?”
    “Yes, yes,” I sobbed. “I’m fine.”
    “You sure?” he asked.
    “I am. Just a broken heart.”
    “Well, if you sure.”
    “I’m sure.”
    “Okay then. Drive safe.”
    The light turned green, he rolled up his window, we both went our ways into the night and I felt like I’d been blessed by a tender mercy, a stranger who noticed distress and asked if help was needed.

  3. What a great story Ms Moon.

    My savor appeared as an elderly lady on the Amtrak train as I was heading home to Tally from California, back in ’93. It was a three night trip, with only 1.75 in my pocket and a 1/2 bag of granola to my name, she took me in, bought me coffee and a cinnamon bun. Her name was Mary and she was traveling back home to south Florida after visiting her son. We sat side by side the entire trip and as we passed a huge cemetery somewhere in Texas she said: “I wonder how many dead people there are in there?” and as I was guessing a hundred or so, she busted out with “All of them!” and laughed and laughed and laughed. Ah… that was a great trip.

  4. It’s funny how you can meet someone while traveling who is so obviously someone you’re supposed to know, even if for such a short time. I met a woman when we were in Cozumel once who ended up playing a large role, not only in my life, but in my brother’s life.
    Your story was a good one, Ample. I doubt you’d ever get into a situation now where you were about to cross the country with so little money and no food. And yet- it worked out.