At the time of writing this, I am on the top bed of a sleeping compartment on a train from Belgrade to Sophia. In the same compartment are two girls, Jessica and Jacqueline, two young Americans from Michigan. I first saw them in the full outfit of a travelling American, backpacks and all, trying to get a ticket for the train, conversing in English with a middle aged Serbian lady. The man on the train had told them they only needed to pay 15 euro for a ticket, but this lady said 80. Of course, they were pissed off with the prices, with not being able to communicate well enough with the lady, and as I later found out, with not having had a shower in 2 days. I was behind them, I offered my help, which they happily accepted. In some made up Bulgarian-Serbian language, I spoke to the train conductor, who said only 7 euro each were needed for an upgrade, all good. To show their gratitude, and maybe because we all figured out that 3 girls is better and “safer” than two (or one, in my case) so we decided to share a 6-people compartment.
Conversation went on for half an hour, they are travelling across Europe, thanks to a Europass, because one of them is starting a post-grad degree and the other one is starting “a real job”, as they classified it. They liked Switzerland best, weren’t impressed due to tiredness with the Netherlands, and were looking forward to Germany. They thought Prague was magical and I suggested they went to see the Baltics, if they want more fairytale-like experiences, Venice was too touristy but Verona was absolutely astounding. (the word they actually used was “awesome”, the accent you can imagine for yourself) They were unsure about Sophia and how long they’d stay there, they were “playing it by ear”. Being a true Sophianite myself, needless to say I tried to convince them to spend at least a night there, see the nightlife, enjoy low prices and good food. They were more excited about Greece, but, if my few experiences with Greek tourism are anything to judge by, they’ve got another thing coming. Conversation died out and one is now falling asleep, though my typing is probably not helping, and the other is reading a book on what I suspect is a Kindle.
I read my book for a bit, a lovely fascinating thing called “Quirkology”, where Richard Wiseman is exploring “the curious science of everyday lives”. A study he talks about suggests that luck is not as inexplicable as we may think. It is not even random, but every person makes his or her luck- people who are more closed, introverted and pessimistic take fewer opportunities, meet fewer people and thus miss out on many opportunities that more sociable optimistic and trusting people do not miss out on. I put my book aside and started writing this, because I realised I was in an indicative situation at that same moment. There is nothing extraordinary in my story. But because I spoke to these girls and offered my questionable skills as an interpreter, I have met new people, learned a bit about the story of people who I’ll probably never see again and we exchanged experienced that, who knows!, can be helpful one day soon. At the very least, I have some company and I feel safer in this train tonight.
There is no reason not to speak to strangers more often. You will always benefit from a chance encounter- it can be a thing as insignificant as some help with a ticket and teaching someone how to say “thank you” in Serbian (Hvála!) or it could be as life-changing as later being introduced to your future partner by that person you first met unexpectedly. But that’s another story.
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