Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unaware.(Hebrews-13-2)
In 1965 I was working in Illigan City, a small port city on the island of Mindinao in the southern Philippines. I used to walk the mile or so to the docks on a regular basis just to see what was happening, watch the activity of people coming and going on the inter-island ships and listen to the conversation of the dock workers as they loaded and unloaded the ships.
Docks are a hive of activity, people gather to welcome their arrivals, others to bid safe journeys as their relatives embark on a journey. Others, like myself, come to watch. A city’s lifeline is its port. Through it many things are exported and imported but it is the people passing through and working there that gives a port its spirit. At the port I always felt connected with the wider world on watching people and ships coming and going.
One evening in early October 1965 as I was walking down the main street towards the docks I noticed a young foreigner like myself coming up the street. We were the only two foreigners on a crowded street. These were the days before the advent of modern tourism and backpackers. So, it usually was of great curiosity to see one of your own so out of place. When that happens you assume that you know that person. Also, when I see foreigners on an Irish street I am curious as to where they have come from as I may have been there.
As I watched the young man across the street we caught each other’s attention. He crossed over and introduced himself as a member of the American Peace Corps working on an education project in the Southern Philippines. We were the focus of attention as we talked on the street. After first introductions he asked in an American accent,
“Are you from Ireland?”
I said, “yes, my name is Bobby Gilmore” He said, “I’m John Lawlor.”
Then he asked, “have you heard who won the All Ireland football final?”
I said, “we haven’t got the results yet.” I wondered, why the interest of an American in the All Ireland football final? There was no hint of an Irish accent so I didn’t question any further assuming that he was an American with some connection with Ireland.
He was disappointed as indeed I was. In those days there was not instant information as there is today. We waited for a letter from home telling us the news. That letter usually took up to, and sometimes more than, two weeks to arrive. A newspaper sent by surface mail with match details could take up to a month to arrive.
As we were about to part he asked if there was cheap accommodation available. I suggested that he could stay at the rectory as we had spare room for visitors. He accompanied me to the docks and after returning we sat down for a while and then he told me that he was born and brought up in Ireland, in county Galway as I was. That was his interest in the outcome of the All Ireland. Galway was a participant.
We shared a beer and what was left over of an evening meal. As he was leaving early in the morning to catch a flight to take him further south to his destination I offered to take him to the airport. After a light breakfast we set out. I waited with him for the departure of his flight. In those days flights could be delayed for a variety of reasons or may not arrive until the next day. Eventually the airplane arrived and the flight was called.
As we were saying farewell I asked, “where are you from in Galway?”
He replied, “Clonberne.”
In amazement I answered, “so am I.”
Shocked that a neighbour from home could be so close, and humbled that I had so little to offer, I walked away from the airport to my car. The biblical teachings about welcome and welcoming strangers came to mind. They have not gone away. Regularly, I am reminded of how often I myself have been a stranger and welcomed.
Why do we take the significance of welcome so for granted while we ourselves expect a welcome? One never knows.
19/9/11
