Sade

Doing my research as usual, and came across this comment as a response to an article about all-woman trains in India.

"I once accidentally go onto a second class train in France when I was traveling alone as a young woman. I thought nothing of it, I was kind of embarrassed to be traveling first class with my Eurail pass. All of the other passengers were Algerian men. Many of them were staring at me and I was getting a little uneasy. Then one of them stood up, walked over to me, and sat in the empty seart next to me. He announced ( in oretty good English) that he was going to protect me. He did note that my parents were very foolish to allow me to travel alone ( in France! And I was almost 30, although I suspect he thought I was younger than that). In any case he did protect me, and I even fell asleep for awhile, waking up to his fierce eyes staring about, in case anyone tried to take any liberties with me. I'd like to say that I could have handles myself perfectly well, but I was outnumbered and this wasn't a movie where Angelina or someone could kick the butts of a hundred men, He gave me a little silver bracelet, which I still have. This was before 9/11, and I barely knew what a Muslin was, but I'll never forget this experience."

Her experience reminds me of that very nice Lebanese-American guy who sat beside me on the Greyhound from Orlando to Boston. He boarded at Jacksonville and got off at NY. I had meant to say goodbye at the Port Authority terminal where I had to change bus to Boston, but we simply missed each other. I never saw him again.

It was before 9/11. He was to stay in NY for a week before leaving for Lebanon to teach kids there English. He was full of hope for the children's future. I wonder if he ever got to leave NY, and what life has become for him post-9/11. What happened to Tarek in The Visitor made me sick in the stomach. Have these good people who only want to do their thing no right to live their dreams and lives just like non-Muslims?

He is one of the most soft-spoken, sweetest men I’ve met. Like the Algerian man who ‘protected’ this lady traveller, he was looking out for me too during that 30-hour commute. We shared some chocolates and music. I was putting Sade into my player, when the CD cover caught his eye.

“Sade, that’s my name. But Sa-day, not Sha-day.”
“No kidding?!” I was incredulous.
“No, no, I love her too.”