Serendipity

The phone rang just after 9. I didn't recognize the number, but for some reason I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Do you have a couch and a good late-night pizza place?"

It took a moment for that statement to settle in my brain.

"Uhh...late-night pizza?"

"It's your brother, man. I'm in Newark."

Barring Marcel Marceau, I think he's officially the last person I was expecting to hear on the other end of that phone. After all, he's in Africa. Maybe that's why my brain didn't register whose voice it was at first. It turns out that my brother from the Dark Continent had missed his flight to Michigan out of Newark because his flight in from a tiny Middle Eastern nation had arrived too late. He and his girlfriend were stranded in the Big Apple until their flight out in the morning. Naturally, they called me.

After giving them directions and the specific instructions which they should pass on to their cabbie, I decided that we needed more beers in the fridge for this auspicious event. That, and I figured a beer or three was probably high on the list of things that these wayward travelers would require, since the beer selection in Sudan probably leaves something to be desired. I ordered a pepperoni pizza from the best New York-style pizzeria in Astoria, thinking that greasy American food is probably also something in short supply in Sub-Saharan Africa. JimmyLuke set about making the place a little more presentable.

About an hour later, there was a knock on the door, which was either our guests our our pizza. It turned out to be our guests followed immediately by our pizza. That is what I would call perfect timing. BrynJoe and SignificantTraveler dove into the food and drinks with the ravenous abandon of people who hadn't tasted Western food in months --which is exactly what they were, so it was kind of fitting. Between mouthfuls, BrynJoe kept talking about how his various milestones of culinary arts (teaching his cooks how to make tortillas, attempting to make french fries out of African potatoes) never quite measured up to their American counterparts. This pizza was clearly more satisfying.

Their flight was at 6:30 AM, so they had to leave around 4:30 to have a chance of making it. We were up till 1 drinking and chatting. Stories were told, lives were caught up, and interesting news was shared. And throughout, our guests were marveling at all the things they'd missed most. SignificantTraveler was happy just to be able to surf through hundreds of cable channels. BrynJoe gleefully fiddled with the touchscreen interface on my iPod. They both marveled at the page-load speed of our high-speed wireless internet. The comforts of Western civilization were out in force.

I was sorry to have to go to bed and say goodbye. It was an evening of firsts. BrynJoe became the first family member to see the new apartment. I became the first family member to meet SignificantTraveler (you'll love her, Mom). And my brother and I talked face to face for the first time in 18 months. The World Room was truly Worldly that night, lodging two globetrotting expatriates who were in town only briefly between flights. I lent them some coats (they have little need for fleece in Sudan but it's cold as balls in New York), left some extra towels out, and said goodnight.

I think I only got about five hours of sleep (still two more than they got), but it didn't matter to me this morning. I don't think I've ever been so glad for a family member to miss a connecting flight. One man's inconvenience is another man's entertainment, but I think it's safe to assume a good time was had by all. I would have met up with both of them on Saturday anyway when we all arrive in Alabama, but still I feel buoyed by this unexpected party.

Between this and my excellent weekend trip (a story deserving of a post of its own), this week has already proven to be infinitely more enjoyable than the last.