April 1, 2022

 

"Crying in the Rain"

 

Yesterday was my first trip to the actual border crossing where the refugees step onto Polish soil. I went there with my Canadian friends, Peter and Lee, to distribute 26 new suitcases and some children's backpacks to those carrying their possessions in plastic bags.

 

 

Once they enter Poland, the refugees walk down a path for about a hundred yards lined with tents, booths and tables manned by relief agencies offering food, clothing, medical supplies, hygiene products, shelter for mothers and children, etc. We stood at the gate and offered the suitcases to those in need, and the offer was always gratefully received.

 

Yesterday was a miserably cold and rainy day.  I could feel the cold cut right to my bones as the rain soaked through my waterproof windbreaker.  Peter was told by a woman that they had to stand in line six hours at the border control before they were allowed into Poland. 

As I walked back to my car, I thought about the children and babies standing in line for six hours in that weather, after traveling for days to escape horrific situations. Up until that moment I had done a good job of keeping my emotions in check while helping the refugees. But the dam that had been holding back the waters finally broke. While crying in the rain, I asked myself why these innocent children had to suffer in this manner. 

This experience reminded me why I felt compelled to travel over 6,000 miles while I could have sat comfortably at home watching the horrors of war on the TV.  Precisely, it was important for me to see first hand the suffering of innocent men, women and children and to do my small part to help alleviate that suffering.  

I'm going back to the border in a few hours to help distribute more suitcases and to transport families in their journey to their final destination.

 

An Annoying Conversation

 

Every shuttle ride thus far has been different.  The first included a mother, child and baby.  The second, a mother, grandmother and two daughters. The third, a mother and son.  And the fourth was a single woman. Last night I experienced what an UberPool driver must go through, delivering several unrelated passengers to different destinations. 

The first was an elderly couple on their way to the Krakow International Airport to fly to London to join their son. (Unfortunately, I was unable to get their names or take their photo ). The second passenger was Ira, a mother traveling to a hotel in Krakow to join her husband and daughter. 

 

And the third was Anna, a young, very bright English teacher taking a two-week respite from the war at the home of her mother's friend. She was technically not a "refugee" as her intention was to return to her home after a brief break. Since she spoke flawless English, she and I conversed almost the entire 3-hour ride to Krakow and will be the subject of this post.

 

We talked about a wide range of subjects such as her experiences with the war; what I thought about Trump; how Americans view the war and whether they support the Ukrainians; why the Russians dislike America; diets (she's vegetarian and I'm vegan); why I came to Poland to help refugees; my experiences with the other Ukrainian passengers, especially the one who repeated "This is my lucky day"; synchronicity (see my first post); her stint in an exchange program in San Francisco a few years ago; and our travels to various countries. What a pleasure not to have to use Google Translate and gestures to communicate! At one point she apologized that I had to put up with her annoying conversation for three hours. 

As we entered Krakow she asked if I was driving all the way back to my hotel that evening (3 hours).  When I replied yes, she seemed surprised but I reassured her that I didn't mind since I wouldn't have to put up with an annoying conversation for three hours. I noticed a small flicker of a smile.

I was on the phone several times with the son of the elderly couple, trying to book them into a hotel near the airport since they decided to fly out the next day. They said that they would stay at the airport overnight since they were nervous about how they would get to the airport in the morning. We found a Hilton Garden Inn directly across the terminal and I helped book them into the hotel. I had barely talked to them but as we said our goodbyes, they spontaneously hugged me and thanked me with tears in their eyes.

I then dropped off Anna at her family friend's apartment and as she left she said, "This is my lucky day" with a huge smile.

I accompanied Ira, my final passenger, into the hotel where her husband was waiting for her.  He profusely thanked me for taking care of his wife. I don't know the circumstances of how they got separated after the war began, but I sensed a huge relief that they were finally reunited.

As I drove back to my hotel I thought that I would be a pretty good Uber driver.