“Do you know anyone here?” I asked the blond gal next to me.
“No,” she said.
“I’m Marcia Chang.”
“I’m Netta Sommers.”
Through chit-chat, I discovered she was a public school Jr
High Home Economics teacher. I was a
public school Jr High Music teacher. So,
we had something in common.
We listened to the instructions about luggage, visas,
currency exchange, and flights. In the
end, the guide said, “Come sign up with
your roommate so we can assign rooms.”
It seems everyone else there had made plans to travel with a
buddy. I did not and she did not.
“You want to be my roommate?” Netta said as she turned to
me,
“Sure, why not?” I shrugged.
The deal was sealed.
We exchanged phone numbers and signed up as roommates.
After the meeting, I wondered what she was really like. Would we get along? Did she have weird habits? What if we had to share a bed? We
would not meet again until embarking on the trip.
This tour was based on the “buddy system.” We were a strange pair as she was the blond,
Jewish gal and I the short Chinese one.
We not only shared the room, but sat together on the bus, ate together
at meals, and walked together on tours. Each
time the group moved, we had to account for our “buddy.”
On the third day of the tour, we put our luggage out the
door before going to breakfast and from there went directly to the bus. The bags would be collected while we ate
breakfast. Netta put her bag out first, minutes
before mine was ready. As we went out to
breakfast, I put my bag out but noticed hers was already gone.
When we arrived at the bus I asked, “May I check the luggage
compartment to make sure my bag is there?
Netta’s bag went first and I want to make sure my bag got on.”
“Of course it got on.
We picked up all the bags. I counted
them. Get on, get on!”
Off we went to the next city.
At the next stop, my luggage was not there. It was left behind. The only clothing I had, I was wearing and the
essentials in my purse were passport, money, and ID.
With his French accent, “Oh, I’m so sorry. We can get it forwarded and you can have it
tomorrow. I will do it right now,” the
tour guide assured me
Because this was a “one night stop” tour, the bag was always
a day late for each stop.
Netta loaned me sleeping clothes, toiletries, and anything I
needed. Unfortunately, I wore a size 4
dress, and she wore an 8. I purchased
underwear and washed my polyester dress each night. Others said they were willing to lend me
clothing but nothing would fit. This
went on for 3 weeks. In this plight,
Netta and I became very close friends.
My luggage finally caught up with me at the last stop when someone realized
it needed to be forwarded 2 stops ahead.
This kind of traveling was 24/7 togetherness. By the end of the trip, most of the “travel
buddies” were not talking to each other. Netta and I were the only ones still
friends.
As single ladies, we shared stories of the special men in
our lives we left at home. Netta
volunteered Ray to give me a ride home, as I was not sure anyone would meet
me. As we got into the terminal, Ray
was waiting for her and I was surprised to see Rich waiting for me. He came instead of my roommate, with flowers
in hand.
That was 1970. One
year later we missed attending each other’s wedding because our weddings were one
day apart. They married in Long Beach,
CA. We married in Honolulu, HI.
That was 49 years ago, and we are life-long friends who
celebrate our wedding anniversaries together every August.
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