Those I Met Along the Way Around the World

People can be some of your greatest discoveries.

Traveling alone is something everyone should do in their lifetime. That is not to say it is necessary to cut oneself off from human contact or to aim purely for self-indulgence - quite the contrary! The strangers you meet out in the world whom you dare bring into your life - even for a short time - challenge you, offer you a new perspective, and give you an opportunity to even explore an alternative reality from what may exist in your brain. You may never see them again, or they may become lifelong friends; it doesn't actually matter. These connections change you, live with you, and give you a chance to explore the unfamiliar with a fresh set of eyes. Although, it is even better if you can carry on knowing you have a new friend.

From November 2022 until June 2023, I traveled around the world, volunteered for over five months with All Hands and Hearts in three different countries, and I had some wonderful experiences. The following are special people whom I met for the first time on this trip (there were so many others, but I had to keep the list somewhat brief, or I would be writing forever):

Bernard the French Enigma

It was a rather cozy environment to be in a large cabin in the middle of the snow during winter in Poland. This was our volunteer base - the nicest of its kind, in my experience - which had a full kitchen, a ping-pong table, a fireplace, and a certain percentage of moonshine left by the owner for our enjoyment. We had many Europeans come through to volunteer, many of whom were motivated specifically against the war in Ukraine. Bernard was a Frenchman who seemed to enjoy relative privacy in that he claimed often that he was not able to understand English. I don't doubt it was a difficulty for him, it just seemed he was able to express himself fairly well when the need arose. But with this cloak of anonymity, many fellow volunteers collectively decided he might actually be the most interesting man in the world. He speaks Spanish fairly well, which is how we communicated at times, and he is fluent in Arabic. We bonded somehow, maybe in just taking the time to share medicine, food, and simple stories. 

We both had an interest in feeding the fire that warmed our home for a time, and we were able to snag two coveted spots on the floor nearest the crackle and heat of the flames. Bernard ushered me over, "Mark, let us sit here and talk like old women."

With only miniscule apprehension about what that would portend, I happily obliged and joined him. Randy Travis lyrics quickly came to mind as I quipped back, "What do old women talk about? Old men?"

Karen the Shout-Outer

Upon arrival in Kahramanmaraş, Turkey, two of us were greeted by a small crew, as we were the first volunteers invited after consecutive 7.8 and 7.5 earthquakes. The woman first on scene charged with building and maintaining a base that would soon need to accommodate scores of volunteers and staff was a woman named Karen, who spoke with a distinct Boston-area accent. Someone once asked me, in a group setting, what I thought of her, as she was certainly a unique individual - outspoken in an official setting, yet otherwise either reclusive or just not around after work hours and not actively seeking to be one of the crowd. I responded that I very much identify with that stance, in that I enjoyed putting myself out there in ways that make our place more than a workers' bunkhouse but prize some alone time away from it all. She and I never spent much time really getting to know each other, apart from some dawn whisperings around the kitchen, but she immediately entrusted me with liberty to do what needed to be done to build our base and make it a home. This freedom of ownership, nurtured by Karen most certainly fueled my decisions to keep extending my stay from five weeks to my visa's maximum three months. Quick to recognize my insistence on providing nightly pit fires on base, she dubbed me, "Sparky Marky."

Hedaya the Devoted

It is strange how you can spend three months with someone, yet only know them on the surface... somewhat. Hedaya is from Jordan and comes with, of course, Arabic proficiency, which helps when communicating with Syrian refugees, and her expertise in the construction we put so much time and effort into. But most importantly, she is a kind human being who is genuinely interested in helping people. As with many people, I got to know her though the power of food. I took it upon myself to cook quite a bit - especially breakfast - and she was always a willing recipient. I think she was typically up and about several hours before she actually woke up. Clearly, camping is a step outside of her comfort zone. I often felt she would starve or just get by on scraps if I did not feed her, which of course is an overstatement, but I was always happy to have her enjoy my creations.

Tony the Friend

If you had to bottle youthful enthusiasm with British wit and purposeful intention, I do believe it would look a lot like my friend Tony. For five weeks, he was our site leader in Poland as we refurbished a building and repurposed it into apartments for refugees escaping war in Ukraine. We complemented each other as architects of base life in Turkey, as he planted a garden and surrounded us with herbs and flowers; he orchestrated a Coronation Day event on base, complete with a giant meal for everyone, games, and a live viewing on a big screen of his King Charles' special day. I believe Tony is what All Hands and Hearts is all about - balancing the enjoyment of life and travel with a serious attention to the fact that we were charged with helping people build back their lives. 

Aly the Bold

Tony's arrival on base in Turkey followed, just by hours, the departure of Aly. People come and go on a volunteer base, and to some extent, you get used to it. It is often a shame that you can't really get to know all of the unique and special individuals who come with various inspirations and stories. Aly and I became friends around the fire, and then making sport of sorting baby food donations at the local university. She has a penetrating wit about her - the kind that can make you laugh without her even breaking a smile. She came to Turkey with serious intentions about making a difference, and in the process made some great friends. We spent much time discussing volunteerism and life, and she challenged me to keep evaluating what it was we were doing, how, and why. Seeing Aly and others waking to the cold of a still-wintery base, facing a rather limited selection of breakfast nourishment, I decided to make pancakes upon her recommendation. That practice would become an event not so uncommon over the following months, so we can credit her with that. It is easy to withdraw from strangers sometimes, but then someone comes along and gives you a reason to put yourself out there; that's pretty special.

Marvin the Marvelous

Everyone loves Marvin. I'm not even sure that's a debatable statement. He is a German explorer and a conscious lover of the world. He prefers not to use air travel or eat meat as notable personal contributions, and he really is a serious builder for other people. As my site leader in the Philippines, he made sure everyone was happy and healthy in the heat and in the rain while we constructed school classrooms. I remember being bummed that I was spending Thanksgiving abroad with no turkey, feast, or family. It was likely a coincidence, since I don't think he is terribly concerned about American holidays, but he ordered pizzas for us all that lunch - a welcomed treat and change from rice and some Filipino viand. Marvin also became staff in Turkey and welcomed me on my day one and immediately put me to work making a table and a kitchen. This tidbit will not do him justice, but this is a guy who is intelligent, caring, strong, fascinating, friendly and uplifting. I do hope to find him again out in the world that he so purposefully intends to improve.

 

Ryan the Thinker

He would probably object to being characterized as a "thinker," though he clearly is, but he would make an addendum. Perhaps "writer," "observer," or "truth-teller," but I believe he already eschewed the designation of "philospher." Ryan and I would connect in the Poland base lodge from time to time during our long evenings with nowhere to go, where I would make him laugh and he would make me think... or was it vice-versa? Leaving Poland, I traversed eastern Europe, and we teamed up to drive through Romania. We also volunteered together in Turkey, where we had a number of adventures, and then met up in France for another road trip from Paris to Bordeaux. It turns out we both enjoy wine, exploring by wandering with purpose, and talking to strangers. I think he enjoys my non-bellicose nature and I his fascination with discovery. He is writing a book, and being out in the world is what fuels the turbines of his mind. In our short friendship he has already tied Kim from the Philippines for traveling with me in the most countries (4) of any other companions, and usually I travel alone. It seems like further proof that God puts people on our path as part of a plan; Ryan might see it differently. 

Ismail and Tahir the Turkish Friends

Early in the Turkey program, we established a campsite for a base at quite a distance from the city, so we were somewhat isolated from stores, restaurants, and of course devastated and precarious structures left from the earthquakes. There was a little town with a few small shops nearby, but little of any recreational opportunities apart from the magestic view of a nearby lake and mountainscape. Oftentimes after work, I would take a walk to see the lake and pop in to see what was available for purchase in the shops, since we didn't have much on base. Also, I was always on the lookout for ingredients and useful supplies, such as pots, whisks, and grill baskets. My favorite shop became the one where the shopkeeper, Ismail, invited me in to enjoy home-cooked food and a beverage... with a heater to save me from the evening chill. Like most Turkish people in the area, Ismail spoke very little English - about as much as I spoke Turkish. But he was always happy to have me in his shop, and he would introduce his family and friends to me as well. One of his friends is Tahir, who is someone who truly enjoys conversing, and his English is exceptional. So, he would translate, and we would have illuminating discussions on everything from politics to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. During my third month in Turkey, having already moved our base way across town into the mountains, Ismail invited me to his wedding, which I was proud to attend the first day of the elaborate ceremony. What joy it is, not only to share moments or stories with people who live where you are traveling, but to be invited into their lives is extraordinary and what keeps me wanting to explore this world.

Zavi Girl, Gekka, and Jeyd - the Family

Just over three years ago this little girl was born, and I saw her nearly every day of her life, yet we hadn't met in person until this January. Her "Mamita" (aunt) and I were very close, so I was privy to near-daily photos, videos, and even video calls. I had already met "Mama" Dolor on a previous trip to Legazpi, and I was so looking forward to meeting the rest of the family. Traveling from the Philippines program to Poland, I gave myself some time to travel to Bulan from Tacloban before returning to Manila. The family took me in warmly, and I felt like an old friend instantly. Gekka was in her ninth month of pregnancy at the time and still working her food stand out on the side of the busy street, and Zavi would "help" as best she could. Jeyd and his parents kindly welcomed me into their home. I had some extra funds left over from our last Tacloban Barangay Kitchen feeding, so Jeyd and friends came up with a plan to feed some of the children there in Bulan. What an adventure to be surrounded by people you've just (or not even) met to rally and cook and distribute Filipino spaghetti to hundreds of kids on short notice. I am so thankful for my time there in Bulan and will always remember their kindness. Hopefully I can meet Zavi's little sister next time!

Life After Turkey's Earthquake

I signed up for five weeks here - arriving with the first of the volunteers - and I plan to stay for the duration of my three-month visa. The physical devastation is widespread, as I have witnessed spanning at least from our base of operations in Kahramanmaraş to Antakya. In the case of the latter, it appears an entire city will need to be rebuilt. 

The human devastation is hard to explain or even fathom, but surely every tented family has their own story, and we just offer our labor, time, and what we can in the way of compassion to make life a little better for those we can reach who find themselves in this holding pattern.

I suppose the tent living for us is a blessing in disguise in that it offers us some shared experience with the Turks and Syrians who have been living in the elements for some time now without the comforts of home. And in working close to where these people reside, we are fortunate to gather some sense of the struggle of humanity - in its imperfections, setbacks, disappointments, and simple joys. Being a part of this is probably why I stay, though it too is a difficult picture to capture.

I Hate Valentine's Day

It is understandable why people love the holiday centered around romantic love - especially if you are accustomed to getting things. Heck, it's probably like a second birthday, without the aging requirement! 

However, for many singles, this day is like not being invited to the party. And the people who do get invited want to tell you all about what you missed! Perhaps it is akin to Thanksgiving if you are too poor to afford a meal, but even then, there are people and organizations giving out food. Nobody cares about the lonely on Valentine's Day.

Of course, for decades, it was quite normal for me to work on the evening of Valentine's Day. So, it was my job to help make your night even more special. Champagne for you... and you... how about a chocolate dessert for two? Me? I'd probably have a slice of pizza and a whiskey around midnight after you all get out of the restaurant.

It's an annoying holiday, and you will probably still rub it in on social media how great you've got it. And even though I hate Valentine's Day, still... ugh, still... buy the flowers, buy the chocolate, write the poem, get that fantastic bottle of wine... hell, buy the ring. If love is in your life, you ought to try to keep it. And if you're smart, you'll do that every day and not wait for a special occasion to prove to someone what they mean to you.

God's Song Through Sister Camillus

The morning the ambulance came to take Sr. Camillus to the hospital, in spite of her severe illness, she began to sing the hymn "The Bells of the Angelus." This was certainly a new experience for the two paramedics. Both were stunned and amused!! The singing continued as they gently secured her in the ambulance. One of the gentlemen commented, "she could conduct a choir!" 

Kathleen Gavigan was born in Weekfield, Co. Roscommon, Ireland on August 12th, 1925 to Joseph and Sarah Gavigan and became the eldest of four girls. She was a bright young girl, and in her senior year of schooling heard God’s call to religious life. 

Kathleen entered the novitiate of the Sisters of Mercy in Ireland and became Sister Camillus - named after Saint Camillus, an Italian priest who founded a congregation dedicated to the care of the sick. After her years of spiritual formation, she attended college to pursue her chosen profession of teaching. On completion of her training, Sr. Camillus was assigned to a new high school and contributed greatly to its success. Her students still recall her great teaching methods, her kindness and understanding, her musical talents and her love of God and all God’s creation.

Sr. Camillus had volunteered for a mission, and in 1968 she came to America and San Bernardino. She was assigned to St. Anthony School, which was predominantly African-American and Mexican–American students. Sister immersed herself in school and parish life, teaching Grades 7 & 8. There were no half measures with Sr. Camillus; whatever the need, she was there. She was a wonderful teacher and later assumed the role of principal. Her knowledge and love of music was a big plus. Before too long, she became familiar with soul music, negro spirituals, many Mexican favorites and loved Mariachi bands. Sister was also involved in catechetical work and in liturgical events. There just weren’t enough hours in the day for her to do it all!

In 1987 Sister Camillus was transferred to Our Lady of the Assumption School. She taught part-time and was also involved in liturgical renewal, visitation of the sick, mission programs and other outreach activities. Sister also worked with bereaved families in preparing funeral liturgies. She devoted much time and energy to working with Mercy Associates, the Fellowship of Catholic Christian Women, and of course, the school choir.

Sister played the harmonica, violin and guitar - the life of every gathering! One evening, this brave woman ventured out on the roller skating rink with students. Sadly, she fell and broke her wrist. After that, the violin and guitar were too much of a challenge, but the harmonica was played up to a week before she was hospitalized. Among her memorable musical accomplishments was the production of “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," which she directed at both schools much to the delight of students, staff and parents.

Sr. Camillus had great admiration for Pope Francis and with great care guided the study of “Laudato Si” with the Mercy Associate Members.  One of the Pope’s letters, after his election in 2013 was “The Joy of the Gospel."  By her prayer and total dedication to duty, Sr. Camillus made the joy of the Gospel come alive throughout her 97 years. May she rest in peace and may all of us who were blessed by her presence keep her memory alive - a beautiful song of praise to God - by being a faithful disciple of Christ.

By Sister Betty McGovern and Mark Porter

The American Hospitality Industry Has a Hospitality Problem

It's 9 o'clock on a Thursday evening and Norm walks into a bar. No one looks up from their phones nor shouts his name - not even Diane, the attractive but aloof and over-educated waitress closest to the door. He finds a seat at the bar. The bartender Sam pretends not to see him for nearly five minutes, wanders his way as a tease, then goes back to the end of the bar where his buddies are sitting. Woody is busy sawing a giant block of ice into smaller, still large, blocks of ice oblivious to anything else going on. Carla... is being Carla, only not funny - just unimpressed, loud and obnoxious. Cliff's incredulous stories are drowned out by the occasionally vulgar stylings of rap music, and Coach (I know he and Woody never worked together) doesn't speak much English, yet he is the most likeable, although least expected to take an order or make a drink in the establishment.

Something has happened to good service in America.

Recently we went to a breakfast restaurant and was quoted a 20-30 minute wait. I figured we would go across the parking lot to the store to kill the time. By the time we had noticed the text message and made it back to the restaurant we were told our table had been given away. The lady next to us had the same problem. I pointed out to the newest gentleman to arrive to book a table that he should not go too far as to risk having his given away as well. The host started laughing. Soon he taunted me to go outside and fight him.

I had been looking for some food in DC and remembered a spot known for their soul food take-out. The door was open, the lights were on, and some people were inside. A man quickly got in my face and shouted, "we (sic) closed!"

I had been looking forward to the first meal out since working on my birthday and then flying across the country. It was a well-respected seafood restaurant with a great view in Anchorage, Alaska. We were rushed through dinner, not even offered the dessert menu, and the staff busily and conspicuously broke down the dining room around us (we were on time for our reservation) to suggest we were no longer welcome. 

These are just the most egregious examples that came to mind in three different parts of the country. However, if you eat out as much as I do, and not always at your town's Cheers, you may have noticed that service is not what it should be. Bartenders are more interested in their craft than they are of their patrons. Servers are aloof or outwardly uninterested in adding any kind of value to the experience. Issues are unresolved or just go unnoticed. And now you have to look at the menu on your phone and perhaps have no say in the tip that will be automatically added to your bill.

And before you ask, I'm not anti-hospitality (or COVID new norms necessarily); hospitality has been my life. And so have the new COVID norms.

I could be jaded by DC - which has some really terrible employees in all sectors - but I have noticed a trend of mediocrity over the years in a business that is meant to exist by making clients feel good. Many places get it right and are pleasant surprises as sporadic treats. It could be that I just know too much and it is easy not to meet my expectations. However, how many times do you actually feel cared for when you choose to pay to have people bring you food and drink? 

The restaurant and bar businesses are hard, but it's not rocket science (I often wonder if rocket scientists say their job is not making dinner), but I have noticed a few things making it harder. Training is often unplanned and thoughtless. Managers have stopped being coaches and guides. Bartenders have stopped being bartenders - either dedicating all their energies to the mixology and/or not having ever developed the skill of conversation. The ubiquitous tip pool essentially guarantees your best servers are not making their potential and your worst and laziest are making more than they should. Customers have lost most of the traditional concept of table etiquette. But perhaps worst of all, in a business designed around caring, many actually care little about anything outside of themselves. In over two decades in the hospitality business, one constant is that there are employees who not only don't care but have contempt for those they serve. Likely that is true in other industries, but I always looked at the gratuity as some measure of thanksgiving that incentivized actually giving a damn. Hospitality is a social science; there is a lot to it, but its core curriculum recognizes that Norm is celebrated when he walks in that damn door and his beer is cold and waiting for him.

Meeting Bob Dole

It was 1997 and DC was a very new place for me. Luckily I had my charcoal Pierre Cardin double-breasted suit among my scanty supply of possessions as a recent transplant from California when my older brother Tom, then a congressional staffer, called me and said, "hey, do you want to meet Bob Dole? Come downtown and wear a suit."

Bob Dole had recently retired from a lengthy career in the United States Senate and just lost the presidential election in 1996 to Bill Clinton but would remain active politically for two more decades as it turns out.

Tom briefed me ahead of time to shake his LEFT hand, as he had lost full function of his right arm having been injured in World War 2. We met and got our photos taken. Senator Dole was tall, engaging and pleasant. He spent a few minutes getting to know us, and I shook his hand as instructed. Looking back, it certainly has been one of the highlights of my journey here in Washington, DC (so far), and I am proud to have met such a statesman and American war hero. 

While our visit was brief, it was an honor to meet you on the path. Thank you for your service and your time.

Rest in Peace - Bob Dole.

Scenic September Alaska

View my Alaskan adventure post 👉 link here!

All Photographs © J. Mark Porter Photography 2021