#20 - The familiar thing about strangers
On coincidences
Hey everyone!
Inspired by a recent trip to Argentina and my late grandfather this essay explores lessons afforded by surprise companions during the divine escape that is international travel.
Blessings e beijos do Rio!
Jodi
“Hey, so where are you guys from?”
Through mouthfuls of crunchy croissants, Marcos and I eye each other, wordlessly deciding who will respond to this gentleman who has suddenly happened upon us.
It is mid-morning in the hotel restaurant when Peter introduces himself. He is maybe double our age, half our height, and emboldened by authoritarian, piercing blue eyes. Peter tells us he lives in the States now, moved there after he almost died in a military hospital in Buenos Aires when he was 21. He comes back to Argentina often though: "I bought land in one of the wineries down in Uco Valley. This is the first year I'll be taking some of my own label back with me."
Before Marcos or I can burst into one of the umpteen questions we're sitting on, Peter asks, "Mind if I sit down?"
We trip over each other's affirmative responses and reach for the closest chair.
If serendipity exists, it seems to coincide with travel. Or at the very least, the liberty of escaping routine obligations. As the three of us sit and munch our way through a leisurely breakfast, Peter weaves us through threads of his life story. An only child to a Belgium immigrant who later left him and his mom to fend for themselves, Peter recounts formative event after formative event. To my delight, he summarizes lessons learned with a milky moustache on his upper lip and a cheeky smirk of humble pride.
After another evening and breakfast with Peter, Marcos and I say our goodbyes and head south to Tupungato in Uco Valley. On our drive, we reflect on Peter's accomplishments – immigrating to the US, learning English, finagling his way into college, and then medical school, on a soccer scholarship all while taking care of his wife and growing family. Peter went on to have five children and if I'm not misremembering, complete over 25,000 surgeries. Staring out towards the boisterous, snowcapped mountains, I couldn't help but drift into a rolling meditation, my mind cascading through his twists and turns and pondering my own.
To those unfamiliar with the area, Uco Valley is one of five wine regions in Mendoza. Renowned for its stunning scenery, continental climate, and high altitude of 850-1100 metres, it produces world-class Malbec. While this velvety, spicy, berry favourite variety of mine was the impetus for the trip, I quickly discovered much, much more thanks to our exceptional hosts at our next destination.
Owned by couple Josefina and Freddie who moved here to pursue their passion, Casa Viña is a boutique hotel meets guesthouse. Both sommeliers in training and mouthwatering chefs, Casa Viña is a modern getaway with the comforts of home and the indulgences of a chic hotel.
It is here Marcos and I meet a world-champion Tango dancer and her husband. As the sun sets on the mountains in the distance, crowning a regal intimacy over our evening, we chat over Sauvignon Blanc wine flights. She tells us that one of her students is arriving tomorrow. He's from the US, and is on his way here for private lessons. This struck me as a monumental exercise of passion and planted an eager seed of curiosity in me.
"You must be here to Tango!" I say, introducing myself and gesturing to Marcos to follow suit.
Nodding back with a flick of a smile cornering his face, he explains he is absolutely here to Tango. In cargo shorts and some kind of athletic branded shirt, he walks with a measured gait that commands intrigue, though I’m not entirely sure why.
“Tonight," Freddie announces scratching the back of his head as he bounces around, "we're doing more Sauvignon Blancs and some super vertical, high-altitude Pinot Noirs!"
The five of us sit down at our delicate place settings and quickly find ourselves engrossed in the Tango Student's (I don't yet know his name) life. Between sips of wine, he details anecdote after anecdote – how he got into Tango, learned to scuba dive in the 70s, and skiied with his dad in Switzerland before he moved to the US to study medicine. Born an only child, he went on to have five kids.
As he chronicled his stories, Marcos and I ticked invisible boxes in our heads noting similarities he shared with Peter:
only child
immigrated to the US
studied medicine
became a surgeon
had 5 kids
here, in Mendoza, with us
We moved on to dessert and it occurred to us we hadn't exchanged names.
"I'm Raymond," he said.
That's when Marcos almost dropped his wine glass but instead locked eyes with me and said, "I can't believe it!"
Almost a month before – to the day – my 90-year-old grandpa died in a sunny courtyard. His wife, my mom, aunt and uncle were by his side, cracking a beer and singing along to his favourite music. His name was Peter Raymond.
Coincidence.
Coincidence?
People tend to have strong views on the subject. There's no such thing as coincidences, some say. Others denote no significant meaning. It is simply a surprising instantiation of similar, yet unrelated, things. It reminds me of that quote attributed to Einstein I routinely see on decorative pillows and coffee mugs:
“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
I think of which direction I'll sway on this particular occasion. Maybe this is a message, a reminder, to let myself feel magic sometimes and consider a familiarity amongst us that's beyond our making. Maybe it is what it is, and it all depends on what I choose to do with it.
I think of Peter and Raymond.
And I think of Peter Raymond.
In between periods of silent companionship and meandering conversation on our way back to the airport, Marcos and I burst out and laugh.
"Peter Raymond!"
“I know, I can't believe it!"
Back at home, drafting this essay, I laugh to myself. How bizarre, I think, this familiar thing about strangers.
Was definitely an amazing experience! I was shocked when Raymond said his name and everything connected! <3