Thursday, February 23, 2006

The Stranger in Prague

It was more than a year that he was on sabbatical in Australia. His engineering company had sent him for special studies. It was a rare honor in his country. Even elsewhere people hardly traveled abroad like today. After all it was 1988 and he still lived in Czechoslovakia. Right behind the iron curtain.

Now finally after a year of strange experiences, new learning, a lot of English and a long year away from the family he found himself sitting on Swissair’s flight from Zurich to Prague. He was excited about seeing his young daughter who would be barely two. He could not contain his excitement. He struck up a conversation with the young foreigner next to him.

It turned out the foreigner was traveling to Budapest. This is how the travel agent routed the foreigner to make the journey cheaper by a hundred dollars. A lot for the country the foreigner came from. He would have to take the train to Budapest. The train station was in town. Far from the airport right in Prague.

Time flew with the conversation and they found themselves in a long queue of immigration control at the airport. It was the foreigner’s turn. The immigration officer spoke in broken English asking for the visa. It turned out he had none. For reasons unknown the embassy had issued an invalid visa.

The foreigner’s face fell. Then in what appeared to be a long gap of time a new visa was issued, many dollars collected from the foreigner.

He saw the foreigner leaving the airport, visibly torn by the experience of landing in his country, head in search of a way to get to the railway station. Without hesitating he walked up and asked the foreigner to come along. Quickly he got tickets for two to go to Prague. More than an hour later they got off, somewhere in Prague. Come quickly, he told the foreigner as the tram approached. They hopped into the tram that took them deeper into this strange new land. Soon they were off the tram walking two blocks away to a railway station.

He got a ticket to Budapest. Like the airport the railway station was full of military police, armed with threatening looks and guns. He took the foreigner across the empty tracks to the platform across. After what seemed like an endless wait a train came in. He helped the foreigner with his bags and explained the border control procedure waving him goodbye and good luck.

The grateful foreigner looked thankfully. He was grateful for this service. Finding the railway station and then the correct train would have been almost impossible here. No one spoke English, no signboards translated to English! For seconds they held hands, the foreigners eyes expressed what could not be put to words…

He waved the foreigner goodbye. He had to track his way back to the airport. His home and family waited for him there.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home