We Met On A Park Bench

I have fond memories of being a foreign student in various continents because there’s book education from professors and informal education from inhabitants of university towns.

I thought about Wendy’s mother yesterday. I met her on a park bench when I was a student in the U.K. I sat next to her but my thoughts were somewhere else, in my predicament. I was a first year student at a university, north of England but I was homeless because dorms closed during the summer. Most foreign students took the train to London with the hope of finding jobs with accommodation. I lived in a cheap hostel while I roamed a strange city looking for work.

Somehow, the stranger on the park bench absorbed my depression and introduced herself. I shared my story and she suggested a solution. She worked in one of the big hotels in Knightsbridge and asked me if I mind cleaning hotel rooms. Mind? Beggars cannot be choosers. She spoke to the Housekeeping Manager and I got the job as a chamber maid. It came with staff accommodation, a hostel in Earl’s Court. We had the same breakfast and lunch like hotel guests so I saved a lot of money because I worked there for three summers.

Wendy’s mother. So did you meet Wendy? Yes I did, her mother invited me for dinner before I started working for the first time. Wendy was involved in fighting oppression so she took me to all kinds of protest marches in London. I graduated and left for the U.S. We lost touch, until yesterday.

I saw a post by @thaddboii, my online American football go-to. He has a new Wendy’s ad. I hate ads because they think they have more rights than the story or comedy. Not @thaddboii.  He is such a good screenplay writer, you forget they are ads.

I wonder what happened to the London Wendy, and her mother, the stranger on a park bench that became like a mother to me.

Nonqaba wak Msimang

Executive Blooger