One Fine Day In Luxembourg

Friday 06.04.04 [3:21 pm]

This morning, while I was reading The Road to Mecca, and in awe of the experience the writer had, I remembered some of my own experience backpacking in Europe way back in 1998...

One particular experience played in mind while I was ironing my baju kurung this morning. The priest I met at the Luxembourg Railway Station. We had just arrived at the train station that morning, and I was taking care of the bags while the other three girls (there were four of us: Ratu, Zie, Anis and me) went to the ladies to freshen up before we start exploring the small, charming city. I was busy reading the travelling journal, making plans on which areas we should cover that day when someone said hello to me.

I looked up and saw a kind face wearing a white robe, carrying a small book ( I presumed it was a Bible) and a string of rosary beads smiling down at me. He sat next to me on the bench and we started talking. He asked the usual questions, where is home, what I was doing in Luxembourg... He of course didn't ask of my religion, as it was quite obvious from the headscarf that I donned. After learning that I was with three other girls, he advised me to be careful while roaming the places, and he gave me the directions to his church just in case I needed shelter or help. He left soon after, but before he left, he put his hand on my head, and said "May God bless you my child"...

I nodded, said thank you, and assured him again that we will be very careful and look for him if we need any help. Zie came out of the wash room at the same time that the kind man left. She saw the priest's hand on my head and rushed over. She was worried, horrid thoughts in her head. I told her of my short chat with the kind man, and how he was worried for us. Despite our different beliefs. He was all smiles and was very fatherly.

After all these years, I have never forgotten the man's kind smile, and his quiet words... You see, I know why he came to me that morning. I was the only one who looked different. I was from a different continent, I was wearing the headscarf, and well, I looked really different. Every other person at the station openly stared at me, not hostile, just curious. The priest made it clear that I was no different than him when he came and sat with me.

I had wonderful experiences backpacking across Europe and each of the city holds a special place in my heart. But now and then, when people start talking about racial issues, of religions and beliefs, I always think of the kind elderly priest who is far away in Luxembourg. I hope he is in good health and high spirit.