First Impressions

First impressions are often the most enduring. I never know what kind of impression I make, but hopefully it is a good one. Still, it is something I fret over, and as I was flying over the Atlantic, I worried about it. Would I get along okay with the other members of the group? Would I be able to hack it on the hikes? Will they mistake my shyness for conceit or disinterest? (Did I spend any time wondering what I kind of people I would be working with? Nope--not really. I was too concerned and self-centered at this point to think about how they would think of me!)

All the worrying was for nothing. The first person I met after leaving the baggage claim in Zagreb was our guide for the tour, Davor--friendly, helpful, and extremely nice. I liked him immediately. As we drove to the hotel, he provided me with some background about the city--its rich heritage defined by its ties to the Austria-Hungarian empire, the effects of being a part of communist Yugoslavia, and even the effects of the war with Serbia. My knowledge of Croatia had been to this point abysmal, and even now, I wonder if I am representing it accurately. Still, outside of his general friendliness, one of the things I observed about Davor was his strange habit of scanning Croatian radio stations for English songs. It seemed the second advertisements, Croatian music or something similar came on, he would quickly find the next familiar tune. I later learned that this was just one of his many ways to accommodate us, but at the time I found the act itself amusing and I was astounded by the amount of American music there was (particularly upon listening to listening to the mix of American songs playing--there are some bad ones out there!).

I personally was struck mute, my mind still trying to process the fact that I was in Croatia and all that meant as well. While I am absorbing information, I find it difficult to formulate good questions to ask, let alone vocalize any. So, I sat with a bit of a dazed smile on my face and nodded along.

Once I checked into the hotel, I learned that there were only two other members of the group. The thought of a small group (four members total) unnerved me a bit. It is pretty much impossible to blend into the background, hang along the edges (a tactic employed while touring Crete). If there are personality conflicts, that would mean long-term trouble, and it could ruin the whole trip.  Can you tell I was a bit anxious?

Turns out, I was worried about nothing. Tom and Marty were a couple from Calgary who proved to be ideal travel companions. Tom and Marty are about my parents' ages, which actually played a large role in why I could get along with them so well. But more importantly it was the kindness and compassion that exude from Marty as she first talks with you. It was the genial and genuine enthusiasm for life that made it impossible NOT to like Tom. It was always easy to smile when they were around. Not only were they great people, but their traveling history impressed me (and made me a little green with envy). As I learned more about each--about Marty's time abroad that had her spending time everywhere in a time where it was even more dangerous to travel alone as a woman. Tom's work took him everywhere in the world, and there met people from such diverse backgrounds. Very proud parents, they have instilled an appreciation for travel in their son and their daughter. Two people from whom we could learn a number of important lessons.

Based on first impressions alone, I knew this was going to work. Little did I know at the time how much I had to learn from each of them, and I had no idea just how much of an impact their presence would have on this experience. (Even as I write this, I find that I am being a bit sappy and sentimental. Truth be told, I am one of those people who, given the right circumstances will gush effusively because I know of no better way to state my appreciation. I am afraid I attach too easily, opening myself up to vulnerability and hurt. To counteract this I often go to the other extreme and remain completely detached. In a group this small, that would be pretty much impossible.)

This particular trip was an eye-opening reminder that while what you are doing is important, arguably with whom you are sharing that experience is just as important. Hopefully, as I continue the narrative account of my trip, what I am trying to capture here so futilely will bear itself out. At least I certainly hope so :)