A Pole, a Romanian, and an Italian Walk into a Bar

Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, doesn’t it? Well, leave it to me to meet just such a conglomeration of characters while in South Korea.

My hotel serves a continental breakfast and, not about to eat alone in my room, I made my way to the breakfast bar. There I saw a handsome, dark man, with wavy chestnut hair. As I can’t resist the dark and handsome type, I asked if I could join him for breakfast. In a deliciously guttural tone he agreed and, to my delight, spoke the most chocolaty, latte, English-Romanian style.

Turns out, he and his friends, who would be joining him any moment, were in town for an opera competition. Lucky for me, I had on my Indiana University t-shirt, which immediately gave us our common denominator-Indiana University, School of Music, bingo! Even more astonishing was the fact that his Pole friend had studied at I.U. for three years. The Italian, who spoke little English, was smiling and agreeable as I chatted with his friends. But, wanting to include him, I pulled from my store of operatic knowledge ( which, in total, consists of the Three Tenors and the Pirates of Penzance) and asked him if he enjoyed Lucinao Pavarotti and Placido Domingo, to which he began speaking wine-dripping Italian at the speed of light and burst into Nessun Dorma there at the breakfast table. I cheered with my Romanian and Polish friend, as the rest of the room looked on in horror. Crazy Americans/Europeans.

I later learned that my Italian friend was so excited at my mention of Placido Domingo because he was on his way to Italy, in just a few short hours, to meet with the opera star. How thrilling! I told him that this information was an excellent way to pick up girls-well, nerdy, music savvy girls at any rate.

My Romanian and Italian had to catch their flight, leaving me with the pensive Pole. And here, let me pause and say that I have never met a Pole in my life. I do not know their temperament, nor do I know much of their history and what I do know is not something to be discussed over eggs and toast. Further, let me say that I was not completely certain of the correct term for this person’s heritage. I had heard, “Polack” in America, but this could be derogatory and, come to find out, it is indeed. The correct term is “Pole”; “Polack” being a term for a male person of Polish descent to connote anti-polish sentiment. This is the language education that you receive when you actually step outside of the U.S. and educate yourself.

Luckily, this Pole and I had something in common-Bloomington, Indiana. I began asking him about his stay in my beloved town. Had he enjoyed the School of Music, and did he have plans to return? Then the conversation took an immediate and magical twist. Apparently, Poland experienced a tragedy several weeks ago. Their President and his family had all perished in a plane crash, leaving the country bereaved and confused.

“ It was just devastating to my people. It just proves that you never know. That is why life is so special. So, important,” he posited.

I agreed with him, and expressed that this was precisely why I was traveling abroad-to suck the marrow out of life. To live in the present moment.

“Aw, present moment! Yes!” he exclaimed in rapt delight.

“Have you read Mr. Tolle’s book on present moment awareness. It is phenomenal. I met many spiritual people in the States, and learned of this concept. To live now, and to have joy in what you are doing.”

Well, it just so happens that I have read Eckhart Tolle’s books, and know all about the concept of present moment awareness. He was ecstatic.

“Oh, if only I had met you a week ago! We could have had some wonderful conversations. Oh, how good to meet someone who loves life!” and he clasped my hand.

See what I mean about deep conversations? They can take you anywhere.

“It is true,” I offered, “ we could have had many good conversations, but I am happy that we have met at all, and that we have had THIS conversation.”

My Pole friend smiled at me knowingly.

“Aw, yes. I am in agreement. At least we had this conversation, and now I must say good-bye.”

At which point, he kissed my hand and strode out of the bar.

A Pole, a Romanian, and an Italian walk into a bar…and they befriend an American girl. An excellent punch-line, if I do say so myself.