training day. 

upon entering the lounge car - my preferred seat on a train, i was struck by just how many passengers there were this time around. only a handful of us boarded at the station in Alpine, so it was alarming to see a seemingly fully booked train. as i walked through the cars, full of people - i made a quick decision to go straight for the lounge car to try and snag a seat at a booth or a window facing seat. the lounge car is designed with as much window space as possible, including parts of the ceiling. if it doesn’t make you car sick, it’s the place to be. it was clear most of the passengers had been on this journey for quite awhile, as many spots & seats had been fully “moved into”.  i grabbed the first empty booth. i get anxious in situations such as this, to claim my own space, as i know - i too like to set up shop for a long time, so i’m anxious to find the right spot so i can get settled as soon as i take a seat.  this is residual from time living in cities, studying in coffee shops & libraries, or traveling via bus/train and wanting to snag a good seat for the ride. the same need rarely comes up when living in small towns. but, the familiar instinct resurfaces quickly, when the time comes. once i snagged the booth, i felt the equally familiar sense of pride, accomplishment & earned ability to relax into the temporary space. 

in front of me was a mother and her two teenage daughters, the mom and younger daughter sported black shirts with the words “she is the future” in rhinestones. they had set up shop in their booth, it was full of phones and laptops, materials for braiding hair, blankets, and a variety of food and drinks. it was a delight to see the way they were enthralled with the west Texas landscape, taking photos and spending large chunks of time staring out the window. they came and went but mostly spent their time in the booth. the girls took several trips to the café, but mom dined on some homemade chicken wings she had stored in a tupperware container. at one point during the trip she chimed into a conversation i was having with a fellow passenger, who was saying she was born in St. Louis, and with great pride the mom talked of her boyfriend who too was from St. Louis and in fact had made a film about the toxic waste in St. Louis. the woman i was speaking to commented  “oh okay, he cool then”. her girls chimed in confirming that they too think he’s cool. commenting “he so st. louis, they are such good people”.  

to which the woman I was speaking with followed up, directed at me - “i mean they either cool, or they horrible”. she went on to describe the tense racism in the city and how you can feel it everywhere you go. she doesn’t spend much time there anymore. Joy was her name, and she was just that. she had sat down with my across the aisle booth neighbor, to eat her food, like you would in a crowded cafeteria; and was very comfortable engaging in conversation. that friendliness eventually made it’s way across the aisle to me. normally i avoid these situations like the plague, but something about the train makes you feel open to it. we’re all on this journey together, it feels oddly equalizing. we chatted about where we’re from and she asked politely but with genuine doubt - what i saw in the dull landscape here, as she had seen me taking photos. saying “so, what do you see when you look out there”. referring to the Marfa plateau as we passed through it. I explained the appeal of a vast space to breathe &  think and further explained how where i’m living down south is more mountainous and rugged. Sharing about the beauty of the parks down south. they knew nothing of the area, and especially of Marfa which was refreshing. she asked about my favorite photo i’ve ever taken and why. we chatted about her childhood and living in Germany as a military kid, particularly a school trip sleeping over in a castle, which was way less enticing than you’d think. her words. after awhile the conversation naturally dwindled, and it felt okay.  she continued to speak with her booth mate about other train trips they’d taken and ironically spoke about how nice it would be to have a sleeper car, so that she wouldn’t have to talk to other people. then when the gentleman went to the restroom, after a brief interaction with the older gentleman behind us singing to himself loudly, she clearly did not want to chat with him, that she needed to give me and this dude a break. you could see her figuring out her exit, while eyeing the rest of the car for another person to talk to. she quietly got up, grabbed her things and cautiously sat down next to the couple of people she would spend the next hour talking to before taking a long phone call. it’s rare to encounter such an outgoing and engaging person, who is also so seemingly aware of themselves. it was refreshing. And truthfully I was glad that she moved along to the next set of folks. the dude she shared the booth with, was (i’m sure) too, as he spent the hours both before and after she shared the space with him, just staring out the window or straight ahead. no phone. no book. no music. just an empty box, that once held food in front of him and two empty cans of diet coke. 

surrounding us was an older couple, him with a veterans hat on, reading a book about Doc Holiday and her doing various paper work in between taking naps. their table had a couple little kits of tuna & crackers, likely purchased at the café as well as a multitude of other papers and pens and books. they talked to each other every now and then, but mostly did not.

next to them sat another older couple, the woman was sitting with her back against the window, feet out on the booth talking across the aisle to a younger woman in the booth across from them, in Spanish. they spoke for the entirety of the four hour trip. 

behind me was the gentleman i mentioned was singing earlier, he would go between taking naps & talking on the phone. mouth agape, snoring & taking up as much room as possible on his booth, flip flops kicked onto the floor below. the phone calls were equally as dynamic, loud and in a language i didn’t recognize. teetering between sweet laughter and an intensity that was alarming. when Joy caught him singing and made a sweet comment (again, never met someone so unafraid to be fully present, without being creepy) he responded “well, i’ve got no family or friends or kids here, so music is the only thing keeping me company”. said with a tone that made it clear that Joy was wise to avoid being that company he referred to. 

about an hour before our arrival a well weathered yet deeply handsome middle aged gentleman sat down at a booth, having just gotten some food from the café - and answered a call on speaker phone. i didn’t pay much attention at first, but began eavesdropping as his tone began to swiftly change. He shared with the caller that he would be sending him $200 but this is the last time, that he only sends the money to help the kids and doesn’t care at all for the person on the other line. he continued to repeat in a variety of different ways the message that this person needed to “stop bullshitting and get his life together, that was tired of his lies and excuses”. he added “man, I just sat down here trying to eat a nice lunch on the train - and you’ve ruined it”. once he got off the phone, everything about his body language was tense. surely processing the conversation and whatever back story existed there. but slowly over the next hour he softened and spent a good chunk of time simply staring out the car window, taking it in, with a smile on his face. 

as the train was approaching the station, I tried to time it so that I could use the facilities and make it down to the bottom floor in time, without stressing about making it off the train/wait too long.  i made it down much earlier than needed, and found myself quickly in the company of a black mother with her young daughter and an older white man. all strangers. A conversation started happening about the current state of San Francisco, how recent laws have led to a massive growth in the homeless population and a major increase in crime. we continued to have an incredibly honest and compassionate conversation about homelessness & drug use in the area.  the woman was currently living in San Francisco, and the man it turns out had lived there about 20 years ago for many years. i myself lived in the bay area for a year between high school and college, so i was able to recognize the parts of town they were referring to, and have an idea bout what it used to be like. the conversation could’ve taken a turn as the older gentleman suggested that what was needed was more law enforcement in the area. this (of course) got a reaction from one of the two additional woman of color who had joined the bottom floor, and the conversation. so began a brief but so deeply poignant conversation about cops and racism. as she spoke of the truth that the last thing we need is more cops, she further explained that it doesn’t even matter how “trained” they are, that they will still be “trained” based in racism. the first woman chimed in that not all cops are bad - as the other woman began to contradict her, she shared with such vulnerability that her own son was shot and killed at 18 in his own room, so she is very aware of the corruption of cops, however she has also encountered some good cops too. the third woman so purely responded with a respectful, “i really like that attitude, maybe i need to change my mind”. i got teary, at the privilege to be present for such an honest and vulnerable and compassionate conversation between three woman of color. from there was more conversations about life in California and how things have changed, the first woman stating ‘i’m getting the fuck out of California, there’s no more morals there”, and shared more videos of looting in the streets and needles being swept up in the streets. 

we were awkwardly interrupted by an older, visibly drunk woman having trouble standing. she entered the tiny exit-way pointing at the first woman and saying “oh it’s you” clearly thinking she was being cute and the woman very politely said “ uh, yep”. she interrupted several times, paying no attention to the sincerity and severity of the conversation. she returned later and interrupted yet again, speaking to the child, calling her a wildly offensive “ethnic” name that was in fact not her name. her mom corrected the woman sternly, she fanned apology & then asked the mom her name again. the white woman repeated her name and then child’s name again - getting it wrong…again. In this small space it was so clear to see the poise & restraint this mom was holding when dealing with this white woman, speaking with zero care  - nor restraint.  it was so embarrassing to watch and i hoped they knew i was not like this woman. that i was a different white person. a better one. but, realized - they don’t know me they have no idea.. no one looked at me and rolled their eyes, like my instinct had hoped. as to say, you’re on our team, i know you’re cool. but, of course - this is what white people do to people of color. what all people instinctively do to anyone different than them. use a generalized stereotype assumption of anyone we meet at first. So there can be no blame.

we exited the train and i realized one of the woman, was visually impaired. i saw her struggle and looked for the way to the ATM, which she had previously been speaking about needing to make sure to get to during the brief break. as the credit card for the café was down. there was only a 15 minute break before the train would leave again. i had only a guess as to where the atm was, but i offered to help. and she accepted with relief. we walked together, swiftly but carefully. she was very concerned about making it back in time. as i too would have been even with the ability to see clearly. she shared that she was going to LA to visit her daughter, after a bad breakup. adding that when you’re visually impaired men tend to take advantage of the fact that you can’t see. Implying he’d been at least unfaithful, among other cruel things. We found the line, both feeling anxious - but trying to stay calm. After the few people in front of us stumbled in getting their ATM needs met, we finally approached the machine. she struggled putting the card in (after having me clarify the color of the card she pulled out of her wallet). i could feel that she was worried about if she should trust me or not, rightfully. she put in the pin herself, despite being able to see, and hit the wrong button. i used the prompts to try again, keeping her calm. I offer to enter the numbers myself, for the sake of time - fully understanding when she quickly answers “no, let me do it”. this time she gets it and successfully extracts the fund from the machine. stating, now she can finally eat - planning to get a hot dog for dinner. I offer to walk her back to the train, she seems reluctant, but takes the offer - i suspect the vulnerability of the situation had set in. i only walk her about half way, as she exclaims with such worry “why are you doing this”. I don’t really have an answer - my initial thought was “my dad was a pastor” I think suspecting that could put her at ease. But, i don’t really say much of anything, treating it like a rhetorical question. Worried my answer might sound trite. to me there was never a choice, and perhaps the truth was that human-ness of my entire trip was contagious. or perhaps i was trying to combat the embarrassing behavior of the drunk white woman. without any implication of being a good person or not, i felt really glad to do it. 

i then took an underwhelming Uber to the Rental Car company - the wrong office. tony was called up, and older man whose job title seemed undefined. He was asked to give me a ride over to the other location, down the street. After a phone call with the clerk, who was giggling at having to loudly repeat herself to him. He entered the office with much enthusiasm and wee dance stating that he was buying a lottery ticket, exclaiming with a thick Mexican accent - “ I was buying a lotto ticket! I’m gonna be rich!” he pulled the truck up to the front for me, warning me as i got in that the black interior was very hot, adding “the devil must be cook’n!” it was 108 degrees in El Paso on this summer day. on the brief drive he shared that he was from Juarez the Mexican city across from El Paso, and joked about when he sees his son’s in law, who both happen to be border patrol agents that he quickly says “US citizen!”. he says this with a charming grin, but i have so many questions about how that really feels. i don’t ask. we chat more about his new favorite restaurant in El Paso where you get served meat on a sword. and he shares that he can make the trip across daily if he wanted to. he states that the trip to Mexico is a breeze, but coming back almost always takes hours. when we arrive at the correct station, he walks me in to make sure that i’m now in the correct place. he gives everyone in the building a hug and then is on his way again. Tony somehow made this chain rental car company feel warm and friendly. not easy to do. 

after some more kind interactions with the rental car agents, I climb into my rental car, and make the 4 hour drive back home.  (with a stop at Chuy’s, of course) i think of all the beautiful and real and honest and hard and kind interactions i witnessed in this trip, and feel deeply grateful to have had this reminder.