The Orange Carabiner

While I drive the Joy Ride Journeys book to the finish line, I still want to keep my story writing sharp with my daily writing. The other day, I mentioned this story and shared it out loud, but I couldn’t remember if I had a written version of it, so here it is.

Although Ethiopia’s yearly visitors range from 800,000 to barely a million, I was fortunate to travel to the vast and beautiful country in 2018. Compared to France, who typically receive over one hundred million visitors each year, Ethiopia does not get that much traction in tourists. I was there on a mission trip of sorts to donate over 35 quilts to the then Mother Teresa Home in Addis Ababa. After a few days touring the Ethiopian capital, I moved solo on to visit other parts of the country, namely, Lalibela and Axum (on the Eritrea border).

It was in Lalibela that I hired a guide for two days to show me around the iconic 11 rock-hewn churches. These rock-cut churches were constructed/chisled under the reign of King Lalibela in the 12th century. The primary purpose of these churches was to establish a significant Christian pilgrimage center in Africa, which King Lalibela referred to as the “new Jerusalem.”

Two of the 11 churches were out in the mountainous area of Lalibela, which meant my guide had to hire a driver to take us to them. I learned that in the tourism industry in some countries, one must choose whether to be a guide or a driver; not many are both. Click here for 60 Minutes Scott Pelley’s visit to Lalibela.

After touring most of the unbelievable churches on the first day of my visit, the second day was dedicated to exploring the ones on the outskirts of town with our now lanky and young driver. We didn’t need a nine-passenger van that picked me up in front of my “hotel,” but I climbed in it to the sound of loud Ethiopian music with my guide, the driver, and another young man riding shotgun. I also carried a small backpack with an orange carabiner clipped to the outside of the pack.

Thankfully, the lanky ‘kid’ driver did a good job with his task in ushering me around this vast country in a safe and respectful manner. While heading back to Lalibela city center, I was trying to decide how much tip money I needed to discreetly extract from my wallet for the driver’s excellent service. I think I pulled out either a $20 or a $50 bill. The trip and tip were probably worth more than I was giving, but others told me that the tips are not that large compared to how one would tip for this kind of trip in the USA. But I’m not like everyone.

As the driver rolled up to my “hotel,” I thanked him profusely for his service. I jumped out of the van, then started to hand him a halved USD note. He refused it and instead pointed to the dangling orange carabiner on my backpack. He wanted that instead of the cash! I couldn’t believe it, but I went with it. I didn’t know if I “needed” to force the money on this kid, because he could have had both; he didn’t want the cash (I tried!).

Fast forward to last fall, and I was standing outside an outfitter store in Williamsburg, Virginia. I had my eye on a sweater I noticed in the window and sauntered inside to take a look at the price tag. Since I thrift a lot of my sweaters, including NWT’s cashmere, buying a new wool sweater has to be really something special and one I “can’t live without.” As I thought, the price was out of my range, but I took a photo of it to track the drop in pricing for the rest of the season (I finally bought it on sale, as the price was slashed to almost half from when I first laid eyes on it).

Since I didn’t buy the sweater that day (which was my Birthday on top of it all), I did notice some cute stickers I thought would be fun for Hubby Bill to place on his water vessel or computer, and bought a few of them. At the register of this lovely old building, which has been converted into a retail space, I noticed an orange carabiner in a basket near the register. Hmmm. Seeing that carabiner in the basket transported me right back to that moment in Lalibela with that young man! Funny how that happens, right?

The feelings of that short exchange with the young driver were so powerful that six years later, I stood there to share the story of the orange carabiner, so similar in size and color to the one in the basket. Without missing a beat, the owner of the store, who stood a few paces left of the register, must have been listening to me speak. In a second, he swooped in, grabbed the orange carabiner out of the basket, and handed it to me, no charge. He said, “Now you have your replacement.”

This single, quiet act of kindness nearly brought me to my knees. The look on the owner’s face said everything—pure joy in being able to give back what I’d once given away (he manufactured sunshine for me!). I was gobsmacked, truly. In both moments—then and now—it felt like kindness had caught us all by surprise. Unexpected. Unscripted. And utterly unforgettable!

This carabiner is the replacement from the Williamsburg, VA, store!

bSoleille!

Terri