The Alter Ego Lives ..lurking behind the shadows of my stereotyped life is my alter ego—marking calendars for my next great escape, sticking photos of my last adventure to remind me of the world outside mine, keeping me stoked for the next chance to rub off new whimsy paths.

“Your hands are cold!” Big Al blurts as he grabs my hands after seeing fear on my face. My Albanian-American cab driver in Connecticut saw and felt the fear running in my blood, or my lack of it. He adjusts the air-conditioning to make me comfortable. He stops to gas up and comes back with coffee and newspaper for me.

The lost kid in me got worried about that mistake I did a few hours ago on the train from New York…

“How the heck did you end up here?” I scold myself inside my head.

“You’re an organized person, you plan ahead!” I continue.

Driving around, for years it felt, looking for the exit to my hotel added tears to my eyes. He begins to distract my agony by telling me how he loved Filipinos. That his brother had a Filipina wife and how mothers in my country take care of their young. He succeeds. I began to share stories about the Philippine culture; I shared love stories and my parents’ experience when they were also in the United States before I was born. I told him I was “made” in the U.S. My parents had to wait twelve long years before they had their own child. Big Al’s like a father you missed seeing in a long time. His warmth and bubbly nature was perfect for the ordeal I had to face for the first time in my life, and in a foreign country.

I missed my train stop at Hartford because when I made that call to the hotel to pick me up at the station was the worst timing ever. I made the call when the next stop was already my stop. I missed it and dropping off the succeeding station meant I had to take a $125 ride!

This weekend visit to New York was to meet a friend who studies at NY University; we went to the NY Times Square, saw a Broadway show, tried the famous Frozen Hot Chocolate at the Serendipity 3. Our day went on and on I had to crash at their apartment for the night.

As we finally arrived at my hotel, with me safe and sound, I gave Big Al a big hug! I told him he’s my new favorite person in the world! He jokes that if I had only been single, he would not have let me out of his car and drove me to his home instead. What a bonding that “accident” made! And what gift Big Al gave me—trust that there will be strangers that can and will also take care of you.

This was the first misadventure of my traveling life and created courage in me that my future trips to California a year later and Europe were never complete without those little surprises I caught myself with—and that’s because I was willing to embrace each and every moment of it.