I was taking the subway back home that night. I was by myself, as usual. It was maybe the end of August, or beginning of September. I looked around at the people; I saw depressed faces, tired, and indifferent. There was something about the subway, something about it that always made me feel sad; and yet, I never imagined there would be something very special there that night. I was thinking that I had just made a friend, and he had just fled back to England. It hadn’t been easy, it really hadn’t. I couldn’t make friends at school, everyone was so busy; we’d get to class and as soon as it was over everyone raced back to where they had to go. No one had time to make friends. Time was so precious in Germany, sometimes even more than friends. And then the only friend I’d made was already gone. Two months I had been there, and I didn’t have anyone close. During the summer, I tried talking to people on the streets, one time I sat by a German student outside of a Burger King. All the tables were full, and I could’ve taken my coffee to the river and drunk it there. But I needed to talk to someone, even if it was a stranger, and this was a good excuse. So I asked him if I could sit by him, and he said it was ok. We talked some, and when he finished his burger, he parted. Another time, an instrumental band was playing downtown. As soon as they were finished I started talking to them in Spanish (they were Latin American) and was really excited to meet them. Although we went out a couple times, it never really developed into a friendship; they were always traveling; they didn’t have time either.
So there I was, sitting… thinking how nice it would be not to feel so lonely. The truth is, I didn’t want to share my pities with anyone. I hadn’t told my host family how bad I really felt, because I didn’t want them to worry. My stop was the last so I knew it would be a while, and I observed the people get on and off... I noticed a guy in a suit got on and sat across from me. He looked tired. There was something about him, he just looked so… sad, too. His blue eyes were staring out the window and it seemed as if he was thinking about something really serious. I wanted to talk to him but at the same time I was tired of trying, trying for no reason, with no success. I wish a friend would just rain down on me… But ok… those things don’t literally happen. He never got off, and I still wondered: “should I say something? Maybe I’ll disturb him, he is listening to music”. The closer I got to home the more I thought in my head whether I should say something or not. There was one more stop to go. The music was so loud I could hear it. I asked: “What are you listening to?” He looked at me and said something like “fast music”, I don’t really remember because he said it in German and it was kind of long, and I didn’t know what kind of music it was anyway. He said “do you want to listen to it?” and I said “sure”. So he let me listen from one of the earphones. I told him he looked tired and sad, and asked him why. He just said he didn’t like his job so much, and he had had a rough and long day. He asked me what I did, and told him I was an Aupair. And then it was my stop. I got up, said thanks and went out. To my surprise, he went out too. When we got off, we introduced each other (we hadn’t said our names before), said where we came from, and exchanged phone numbers (it wasn’t anything romantic), because if you ever wanted to meet a person again, you had to have some way to contact them. I was happy that we had the same metro stop, because that meant he lived close by, and I had a better chance of making a friend if I could actually reach him or her.
I had a little trouble remembering his name, for me it was hard: Suat. Finally, I decided it sounded like SWAT except the tonic syllable was on the “u”, and got it in my head. We stayed in touch; I would go out with him and his friends, and I made more friends thanks to him.
I met lots of people that year in Germany: interesting people, cool people, and not so cool- more freaky-like people. But friends, true friends, were rare. The friend I met in the subway changed my life. It sounds exaggerating, but it’s true. I’ve thought about it: my year in Germany would have totally sucked if it weren’t for him. He almost became my psychologist; he was like my brother. He listened and he cared, and made me go out when I didn’t feel like it cuz it was freezing cold outside. He had patience with me, and taught me German, both slang and formal. He had enough patience to explain a lot of things to me. So I’m glad I took the impulse that night, as sick as I was of trying, to talk to him. Now I think about it, and I know a few seconds on the train made a difference in my life. If I would have decided not to say anything, which would have been easier (don’t think just because I talk to people on the streets it means it is easy for me, it takes courage and strength!) I would have a few less friends today. And probably the following winter months would have been miserable. It was always funny when they asked us how we’d met. It sounded very silly and almost embarrassing: “We met in the subway, when I randomly started talking to him”.
So you never know… try it sometime!
