Universal Language (Lisa)

Tuesday 4/12: We arrived in Frankfurt, around noon German time and got a shock back into reality.  We had no earthly idea how to get to baggage claim. Poor Owen had such bad gas he was doubled over in tears, but he was made to drag his luggage around anyway.  That might sound a bit ruthless but all of our hands were full, we all had jet lag, and there was no sense in standing around waiting for him to get better.  We had to find a bathroom and had to get our luggage.   There was not a bathroom in site for what seemed like a mile’s walk through the airport.  Owen and I left Steve and the girls with the mob of people waiting at customs and together we navigated the halls, elevators, and escalators until we finally found a bathroom.  I began to worry that we wouldn’t find our way back to our clan. Nothing was written in English, there weren’t many souls around, and none of them spoke English.

Then suddenly I had a true foreigner experience.  I was waiting outside the bathroom near an empty terminal when a lady approached me with her boarding pass.  She was speaking to me in a foreign language I didn’t recognize, I think she was from Yugoslavia, I recognized that word.  Despite our language barrier she continued to ask me questions about her flight.  Holding up her boarding pass, showing me the terminal number printed on it, then pointing to the terminal we were standing at, I gathered that she was asking me why no one was there and I tried to tell her she had three and a half hours left to wait.  We awkwardly stood there frustrated at our language barrier... Funny thing about a smile, it is a universal language of kindness. So in silence we both smiled awkwardly at first then we began to enjoy the exchange. 

I guess that  compelled her to keep talking because she asked me more questions, this time more probing questions.  She said in broken English, “Florida?”, “Chicago?”, “New York?”.  I told her “New York” (I'm sure she's never heard of Charlotte) and she shook her head in excitement and gratitude that I understood her.  Others arrived at her terminal so she asked them questions in German then continued to talk to me for about five more minutes in her native tongue.  I just shook my head and kept smiling.  Owen arrived at my side and she asked if he was mine and how old he was.  I had no idea what she was saying so she held up fingers and rattled off numbers I didn’t recognize.  I pushed the appropriate fingers up or down indicating in phalanges language (fingers) that he was 8.  She smiled appreciatively at my effort, smiled approvingly at Owen,  and wished us well.  I put my hand on his shoulder as we walked away when Owen looked up and asked me what she was saying.  I said "I have no idea, but she was really friendly." 

That short foreign exchange calmed my nerves.  As I made my way back through the airport to my family I smiled at everyone I passed.  Now I felt ready to tackle this great adventure.