April 3, 2022
Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde
"This is not going to be a pleasant ride," I thought to myself with dread as three women followed me to my car. One of them, Olga, angrily headed back to the Information booth. Another took out a cigarette and started smoking furiously, knowing that this would be her last cigarette for three hours. Since none of them spoke English, I had no idea what was going on. We found an interpreter who spent 15 minutes trying to convince Olga to proceed on the ride to Katowice, Poland.
According to the interpreter, Olga lived in Lviv, Ukrania, while her husband and children were in western Poland. She was on her way to meet them but didn't consider herself to be a refugee, nor to be associated with that population. (Why she was availing herself of the services to refugees was beyond me.) It was all very confusing to me as she was stressed out and appeared on the verge of a breakdown. I'm sure the effects of the war and separation from her family played a large part. She finally agreed, rather reluctantly, to get in the car.
The first two hours of the three-hour ride were not pleasant, as I had predicted. The three of them spoke nonstop and totally ignored me as if I were a lowly taxi driver. To make matters worse, it was snowing, and visibility was restricted so I had to drive carefully. My neck and shoulders were tight from the all the tension, and I was counting the kilometers left to reach Katowice.
Then, suddenly, one of them (Julia) asked me in English, "Where you from?" I was shocked as this was the first time they had even acknowledged my presence, and in English no less. When I said, "California," they replied, "Ah, California" with big smiles on their faces (even Olga smiled). Somehow, it must have occurred to them that this man had come all the way from California to help people like them because I heard the words "California" and "volunteer" in their conversations and phone calls several times after that. Olga then asked via Google Translate on her phone, "Who is paying for this? Do you want me to pay?" I got an interpreter on the phone and got him to explain that the ride was free, I had raised money to support the refugees and I came all the way from California to help the refugees. She smiled broadly and said, "I understand. Thank you."
After that, the ice was broken, and Olga was a different person. She asked to borrow the charger for my phone, and she helped me navigate the streets of Katowice. She explained by gestures that the first two hours of parking in the garage in the train station were free while she animatedly led us to the ticket office. It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde, two totally different persons from the beginning of the ride to the end.
Each of them gave me a big hug while we said our goodbyes and Olga turned to me and said, "You are a good man."
The tension in my neck and shoulders was gone on the ride back to my hotel, even though it was still snowing.
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