Awful, But Good?

November 7, 2007, 9:30 am; posted by
Filed under Articles, Chloe, Featured  | 6 Comments

London isn’t so friendly anymore. In fact, I rather hate it right now, but I’m sure that will pass eventually.

I got back from Scotland late last Monday night to find my room in ruins. Apparently a water input pipe on the toilet in the room above me had suffered from a slow leak. When I first saw the rubble, I thought my room had been broken into. But amazingly, nothing was ruined, thanks to how much time I spent tidying up before I left. What’s more miraculous, though, is the fact that I wasn’t in the room when the disaster occurred. The ceiling collapsed in an area where I spend a lot of time, and big chunks of stained drywall landed right where my head would have been.

I was moved around a few times until the guesthouse settled me in a room meant for one person. I’m sharing it with a dear friend whose kindness shows no bounds. The room is cramped, very cramped, but it’s only temporary. On the 15th my own room will open up. In the meantime, I’ll have to do what I’m worst at — humbly accept the kindness of others. I’m in awe, really, of how hospitable Houghton students are. I had numerous offers the first night for me to stay with someone else, and one girl was adamant that she would give up her bed for me. And again, with the friend I live with now, Christian hospitality is at its best, even if it means my pride is writhing on the floor.

The Sunday after this incident, while most people were gone on break to Rome, Amsterdam or Geneva, three friends and I went to the White Swan, a fantastic little pub with cheap and delicious coffee and meals that fits our budget when the food at the guesthouse is substandard. We sat around a square table, and I put my purse between Matt’s and my feet, nearly under the table. It was safe, I knew, but I checked it every so often because I’m paranoid.

We were there for two hours, completely absorbed in a conversation that weaved in and out of film and literature, what made movies span generations, and whether M. Night Shyamalan was working on anything. Then something changed in the atmosphere, a flurry of movement, perhaps, or a sound, and when I looked down, my purse was gone.

I don’t remember getting up from my chair and running the length of the bar to get outside, but suddenly I was out there, jogging down the street to find a man I had noted as suspicious when he walked by the table twice. There he was, walking quickly down the street. I jogged ahead of him, then stopped and turned around, getting a good look at his face. He didn’t look nervous, but he had a backpack big enough to conceal a purse, and if the police find anything on the CCTV, I’ll have no trouble confirming it. I know that man’s face. I dreamed of it last night. He was a televangelist.

I didn’t lose much: $40, my (now canceled) debit card, driver’s license, mobile phone, universal bus/tube ticket, hair brush. The things I’ve missed most are my chapstick, oddly enough, and my glasses. On the way out the door, I recalled that it was a weekend, so usually pubs had bouncers out front to check ID’s. I’d been turned away before on account of my student ID being unacceptable, and I almost, almost took my passport along. But then I thought, No, this will be the night my purse gets stolen, and opted for the license instead.

Again I find that if this had to happen, this was the best possible way — and again I am dumbfounded by how wonderful people are. One girl even gave me a hairbrush! The professors have gone out of their way to replace my travel card, and thanks to the kindness of others, I now have a loan to last me until I can figure out how to get money from the States to my pocket.

London is not my favorite place right now, not by far. But throughout this terrible week, God has reinstated in me a faith in other people, and in the divine arrangement that kept me from losing my head to plaster, or a knife in return for my purse.

Things could have been so much worse, but praise God, they weren’t.


Comments

6 Comments to “Awful, But Good?”

  1. Hoss on November 7th, 2007 11:36 am

    wow… you must have had a fun week

  2. Connie on November 7th, 2007 1:25 pm

    I’m so sorry. It seems like it’s making it easier to leave…

  3. David on November 7th, 2007 4:52 pm

    Now we all know “The Difference Between an American and an Englishman”.

  4. Chloe on November 7th, 2007 5:43 pm

    Yeah – they won’t steal your life AND your wallet.

  5. Dsweetgoober on November 7th, 2007 5:58 pm

    Exactly. In NY you would have been knocked down, bruised and badly shaken at least.

  6. Steve on November 7th, 2007 6:41 pm

    Tom, you’ve been known to frequent American pubs from time to time. Ever seen anyone pickpocketed there?

    Our thieves are usually drug addicts in desperate search of a fix. I think Europe’s pervasive welfare state mindset encourages some people to make theft a career.

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