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Reflecting on Experience

An experience that I often think back to as a truly pivotal moment was
when I bought my first train ticket, from the Manchester Airport to
Lancaster. I had a cart of luggage with me, a purse full of coins that had
very little meaning to me, and absolutely no clue what I was doing. I
managed to walk for about twenty minutes from my terminal to find the
train station (only to find out that there was a bus I could have taken),
to read the board and see no trains headed to Lancaster in sight. I felt
completely and utterly alone. Not being the most outgoing person in the
world, I was content to stand around and hope that I would eventually
figure out how to get myself to Lancaster. After awhile, I finally decided
to just get in line buy a ticket. That, however, spurred the problem of
the fact that I never took the time to study the English currency to
figure out what any of it meant. So when I finally asked for my ticket to
Lancaster (by way of a train to Glasgow, Scotland--I never would have
thought I would be looking for a train that was indirect) I had no idea
how to pay for it. Searching through my coins with no luck, I attempted to
pay with my credit card. But no, I would have to get into a totally
separate line. So I handed the ticketmaster what I thought to be the
correct change . . . just for him to laugh in my face. Not quite the way I
wanted to start my trip, to say the least. The man then informed me that I
had given him a pound coin that was forty years old and worth a decent
amount of money--definitely more than a pound. This made sense,
considering my aunt gave me money she had kept from her trip to Europe
more than thirty years ago. So, tired, embarrassed, and totally lost, I
finally asked for help. And with a smile and a "of course, my love," help
is just what I received. The reason that I so often think back on this
experience is not just because of the retrospective humor, but also
because I learned to swallow my pride and ask for help when I needed it. I
came here not wanting to be the obnoxious American tourist, but I know now
that I am not. Everybody just needs a little help, sometimes.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on February 24, 2009 5:32 PM.

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