“Communication works for those who work at it.”
– John Powell, film composer
“Hello,” I said, sliding into the back seat of an Uber on my recent trip to Basel Switzerland. This was my first time traveling outside of the United States. As a part of the support staff in the academic community, I’d heard countless stories from professors and students about their overseas trips. Dora and I always wanted to travel internationally. As a Division Secretary at Millsaps College, Dora provided a lot of support for the Travel Abroad programs. We wanted to visit other countries. We even went as far as getting our passport applications, but never moved forward with competing them.
Almost four years after Dora’s amyotrophic lateral sclerosis(ALS) diagnosis, I was in Basel Switzerland. I was a long way from my snug house in central Mississippi, a long way from my daily routine of feeding Midnight, taking Boots out, tea, and virtual ALS advocacy meetings. I never imagined traveling so far from home by myself.
Breathe. I was safe. I was afraid. I was grieving. I miss Dora. I was growing. I was happy. I was scared shitless.
“HELLO!” The uber driver said.
Damn! Is he hard of hearing? I buckled my seatbelt then noticed his hair. It reminded me of Christopher Reid of the 90’s American Hip Hop duo, Kid ‘n Play.
“I love your hair!”
“UH… NO ENGLISH!”
“Okay.”
My first time out of the country and I'm in Basel Switzerland? Unreal. I was a 2023 ALS/MND Patient Fellow who was also representing two I. AM ALS posters at the 34th International ALS/MND Symposium. Seriously? I wanted to pinch myself, but didn’t want to damage my beautiful new blue coat sent to me by the ALS Angels.
“HELLO!”
“Hello,” I said. “Are you having a good day?”
“NO ENGLISH!”
DAMN…damn! Maybe I’m the one who is hard of hearing. Shit! I tapped my foot to the music on the radio. I didn't understand the words, but the beat was good.
“COO BA!”
What the hell? Basel lay before me in a delightful, but unfamiliar pattern. Smooth streets - no potholes - sidewalks and historic buildings. A sharp contrast to my neighborhood - failing infrastructure, unclean drinking water blah, blah, blah.
“UH… UH…UH..COO BA!”
“Coo ba?” I repeated. What the hell is a coo ba?
“COO BA!” He said the word louder and more forcefully.
I saw his frantic brown eyes in the rear view mirror. Not strung out on meth or heroine frantic, frustrated frantic like he knew I still didn’t understand what a coo ba was.
Confused, I said, “Coo ba?”
“COOBA! COOBA!”
“Cuba?”
“YES!” He said excitedly. “YES! FROM COOBA!”
“Cigars!” I said equally as excited.
He was quiet a second digesting what I said, then he said, “CIGAARS!”
Happy we’d found one word we connected on, we kept saying the word “cigars” for the remainder of the trip.
Love that! Cough cough cigars!