It never fails..

Notes on Traveling
Lesson 4: Always Be Prepared
For further enlightenment see the following:
Lesson 1; Lesson 2; Lesson 3

Our ship lightly rocked into the Skagway harbor on the Fourth of July, and after a leisurely morning at the bacon trough, Rich and I stepped off of the boat and starting walking into town, excursion coupons in hand.

To our happy surprise, Skagway is still a genuine small town, full of small town pride and personality. It hasn't lost that quality, even though they cater to thousands of (surprisingly international) cruisers each day.

The town was bustling that day, and the streets were adorned with everything red, white, and blue. As we slowly waddled into town, Rich and I saw that there was a parade happening. This is not unusual for a small town on the Fourth of July (or on pumpkin harvesting day, or homecoming, etc.), but what was unusual was the number of bystanders waiting to get a glimpse of Bev and her can cans, the local fire department who were riding atop the decorated engine squirting water at the crowd, and the local kids who ran behind the truck squirting back with their Super Soakers. People cheered for the chamber of commerce float and for the glittery confetti that seemed to follow it. The obligatory classic cars decorated with beauty queens practiced in the art of waving meandered down the parade route, and locals in all sorts of costumes - from clown wigs to mounty garb, from red lipped brothel women to dachshunds wearing hot dog costumes - marched by surrounded by balloons and crepe paper, and all threw candy and kisses to the enthusiastic crowd.

Seriously, this was a sight that originated in some Leave it to Beaver montage or maybe from The Little Rascals. If I weren't busy clapping for confetti, streamers, and the jolly ranchers that were beaming people next to me (who, by the way, I only remember as large smiles, mostly Q-tip ones*), I might have imagined that I was caught in some sort of prosaic acid trip. But who can be cynical when dogs wearing top hats are parading by you?

After the parade, the town erected food stands (hot dogs, BBQ, and Crackerjacks all accounted for) and game booths up and down Main Street. We witnessed the potato sack races, three-legged races, and egg toss. Shop keepers ran out of their shops to participate, and no one minded - not even the international tourists - because the day was filled with that much glee.

After buying a Skagway volunteer Fire Department t-shirt (all proceeds going to support them) and a hot dog from the Bank of America booth (all proceeds supporting underprivileged children), Rich and I decided to go in search of the local brewery (all proceeds supporting the... uh.. local brewery). And after sampling all of the Alaskan brews (and receiving my free baseball hat for doing so), we decided to go in search of fudge and our free "genuine fake Alaskan bear claw".

Just as I was thinking that perhaps I shouldn't have eaten the extremely creamy and wonderful handmade Alaskan fudge after the beer samples, hot dogs, Crackerjacks, and bacon trough, and as Rich was still inquiring about the "genuine fake Alaskan bear claw", I heard - very faintly and surreally - these two words in the distance:

"Ms. Haag?"

My heart stopped.
Surely not. No really. Seriously? Here? Don't look up.

And then came,
"Ms Haag!!! It is you! I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

I looked up, and sort of tried to smile, though anyone who knows me knows that when I try to fake an emotion, it looks really scary. Some might even use the word "psychotic" here, as my eyes sort of bulge out of my head and my eyebrows lift into some sort of creepy clown mask that leaves a very unflattering impression.

That look coupled with my gaping jaw must have made her fling herself at me - so that she wouldn't have to look at me anymore - for a hug. It was happening. I had traveled thousands of miles away, secure in my anonymity on a ship of thousands of people!

As a teacher, going anywhere public means that you will inevitably run into a student who doesn't understand that you are a real person outside of the schoolhouse. It means that in any given moment, you have to put on your school manners and stop saying, "fuck" every two seconds.

It means that you probably should not be wearing your newly acquired Skagway Alakan Brewery baseball cap, chocolate fudge smeared all over your mouth.

It means that under normal circumstances, you have carefully mapped out the local eating establishments and understand that if you go to that one, you might run into so and so, since she's worked there for three months - and you know this because you've read her reflective paper on how much she hates her job and that the boy she loves made it with her in the restroom there while on a break.

You know that if you travel across town to that establishment, there is less chance of being recognized, but that if you are, you have the following questions available on notecards for dialogue prompting: "So, how have you been this summer? Now, what college/trade school/ job will you being attending? How are your folks, brother/dog/ boyfriend/children?".

So, out of context, I am lost. I was completely unprepared when I saw this student in Skagway. I hugged her back, and awkwardly tried to chit chat with her in one of those conversations that you know is floundering with such verbal clumsiness that you and all of the animals within a mile radius are on edge, alert and awaiting some sort of predator warning. I excused myself from the conversation under the guise of caring about a "genuine fake Alaskan bear claw", and walked away a deer in headlights.

The rest of the day I looked for her. Just in case. I promised myself I would do better next time if I ran into her again because I didn't want her to feel like my blundering was a result of something she did, especially since my students and I have such a bond in the classroom. And I remember her fondly.

Unfortunately? Fortunately? I didn't see her again that day, and she wasn't on my ship. I spent a lot of time feeling bad about the awkwardness of our encounter, but at the same time, what the hell?!

Seriously.

* A Q-tip, in this case, is a person of a certain age, usually whose hair has turned white and who wears white orthopedic shoes. Q-tips are known to travel together to Alaska, especially on cruise ships.