Mr. White Man looks a "little" like Sam Shepard, with glasses...I sat there in my window seat, 15E. I sat there miserably reclusive, yet exposed, emanating self-pity and sorrow. I tried not to let it show; I kept my eyes closed and my ears plugged into my own music. Ahhh, my own music. "Please just leave me alone," I transmitted to others around me. I believe they received the message.
However, my own music could not drown out the voice of a man seated in the aisle side seat of the row in front of us. He was a white man; a casually yet very appropriately groomed and adorned fellow, from his hair to his glasses, to his clothes and shoes. Middle-aged and silver-haired, a surprising enthusiasm still expressed itself in his eyes. Mr. Happy White Man.
This dude wouldn't shut up. He was a walking encyclopedia with a compulsion to share. Ughhhh!! I was so pissed off until the conversation turned to something that intrigued and shocked me.
Even as I sat in my corner being pissy, I eavesdropped. Couldn't help it anyway - he was that loud. He talked about his Christian missionary work, which had led him to several third world areas all over the globe - countries in Africa, Central and South America. He talked about some of the engineering projects he'd worked on, particularly one where he facilitated the building of a new well for a village for in East Africa. He described the men as quite lazy, while the women carried huge jugs of water for miles and miles to mix with other materials to produce concrete. He discussed the role of religion - primarily Islam in several of the areas he visited - and how it mixed with the maternal culture of many tribes he interacted with. He explained that while the men could often trump the women in some matters, women yielded more control in many financial cases. So, if a wife got pissed, she might literally kick her husband out of the house and refuse him food and shelter until he decided to behave himself again!
But that's not the shocking part - my jaw almost hit the floor when Mr. White Guy turned to the passenger to his right, a BLACK woman, and started discussing the height and physical characteristics of the black people of Haiti. His words, almost literally, "They're not like you; they're much more diminutive. Black people in the United States are much larger by comparison." I watched the woman from behind; her back snapped straight for a moment, but then she relaxed. I sighed to myself and subdued the heat rushing to my face - whew!! I thought to myself, "Holy shit!! Doesn't he realize that slavery breeding practices were a huge contributor to how her race has evolved in the United States. Dude, please, please, please...shut up now before someone gets hurt!!" But she looked at him carefully for a moment, and I think, decided he meant no harm. And from then on, they were both the best of friends on the flight. She talked about her work with government and the United Nations, he talked about his worldly experience and even the window seat passenger in front of me found ways to contribute to the conversation. In other words, none of them would shut up. But I didn't care. I was feeling a little less sorry for myself, observing the camaraderie, listening to their laughter and their sharing, and it all made me feel a little better about life in general. I still turned up my music, but I appreciated the energy radiating around me - it was uplifting, comforting and reinforced my faith in people a bit.
Just before landing in Dallas, Mr. White Man turned his attention to a mother and her two little girls in the row in front of him. Pretty soon, he had them looped into his little group. This one little girl, who I'll call "Carrot Top" (because she had orange springy hair that her mother had gathered into a sprouting pony tail on top of her head) kept sharing all kinds of things with the group. She'd pull a page from a magazine, stick it in her mouth for a few minutes and then pass it around to each person in the group (yuck!). If the person held on it to it for too long, she'd take it from that person (almost indignantly; so cute!) give a look and ensure it made it to the next person in their group of fun. With as much as they all talked and laughed, I'm sure the flight felt much shorter and less exhausting for them.
As we de-boarded, Mr. White Man helped several people with their luggage as I watched from the corner of my eye. I thought to myself, "Surely this man has been through hell and seen many versions of hell throughout his life. And yet, this whole flight, he effused optimism, friendliness, care for and interest in others. Meanwhile, I sat here feeling sorry for myself, trying to block out the world. Wonder which attitude leads to a happier, more fulfilling life? Why can't I be more like him??"
I guess I can. :)
