Little things and Misadventures

Turku, Finland to Budapest Hungary
July 12, 2014

Once upon a time, I was a control freak and I stressed about everything.  When I backpacked in Europe 8 years ago, I remember we packed peanut butter crackers and decided to eat them on the Chunnel- the train connection through the channel tunnel that connects England and France.  I started worrying out loud to my sister that maybe someone on the train would have a peanut allergy and go into anaphylactic shock and it would be our fault.  Fortunately for me, she was a lot more laid-back then I was, and convinced me that I didn’t need to go borrowing trouble.

Three years living as a missionary in a less than predictable place taught me that I am not in control, that stressing doesn’t change things, and that usually it all works out in the end.

So, this time leaving for a 3 week backpacking trip, I was much more laid-back, and had a lot less planned in advance.  I knew where I was meeting my friend and where we were staying in Budapest, after that, well, everything was fairly open to change. 

Even so, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t a bit nervous.  Three weeks, 4 countries (3 of them where I didn’t know a single word, or only one), 1 friend. There was a lot that could possibly go wrong.  So, backpack on, I headed towards the bus station, trying to remind myself that usually it all works out in the end. 

And then, hanging on a railing, something caught my eye.  I’d been out with friends the night before, having one less farewell get together.  We’d had chilly weather lately, so when I left the house I had a sweater and a scarf with me for when the sun went down.  When I got home though, I realized I’d dropped the scarf somewhere along the way. I was sad- it was a birthday present, and I really liked it-but I was leaving the next morning, there wasn’t much I could do about it.  And there, that next morning, was my scarf, hanging over the railing, waiting for me.  It seemed like a smile from God.  “See, I care, even about the little things.” he reminded me. “You don’t need to worry about all the things that could go wrong”.

Several hours later, I found myself at a train station on the outskirts of Budapest. I had to change to a local train to get the station where my friend was meeting me.  My ticket didn’t list the platform number, and I had only 7 minutes to make my connection, so I lost no time in making my way to the board where departures are listed.  Only one train was leaving at the time I was looking for, so I headed to the platform, still slightly hesitant because I had a feeling the local trains might leave from a different area of the station.  But, the train pulled up, the sign on the door said the name of the station I was supposed to go to somewhere, so I got on and hoped for the best-I should be there in less than 10 minutes.  I didn’t have long to get comfortable.  When the conductor came and asked for my ticket he looked at it and just shook his head.  My stomach sank.  I was on a train in Hungary headed the wrong direction and I didn’t even have a valid ticket.  He could tell from my distraught face that I had made an honest mistake, and very kindly told me how to get to where I wanted to go, and didn’t charge me for the train I was on.  He even wrote a note for me in Hungarian “one ticket to Budapest Deli with the student discount please” in case the person at the ticket counter didn’t speak English.  As he left I settled in to wait for another 45 minutes- of course I had to pick the wrong train that didn’t stop ANYWHERE for a full 45 minutes. Two hours later, after my train ride through sunflower fields, a bit of phone tag with a friend of my friend in Budapest to pass the message on to her when I would be arriving, and waiting around in the Budapest-Deli train station lobby I finally met up with my friend. And see, I was right, things usually all work out in the end.