Faces in the crowd

Unlike my roommates, who work in schools and nursing homes, I have a job job that doesn't really let me get to know or build relationships with a fixed group of people. If it's a busy day in port, I may see upwards of 80 seafarers, but almost all of those encounters will be brief and banal ("Can I have a phone card!" "Take me to the mall!" "Will you marry me?"). Because the average shipping route is a 3 month circuit (with a whole lot of variation, mind you) and the average shipping contract is 9 months, it's not like I get to see the same people again very often, even if I do visit the same ship more than once. And, because I see so many people without any relevant context, it's incredibly difficult to keep names and faces straight. It's also near impossible to keep track of which ships I've been on in the past, because they're all named maddeningly similar things, and they all look a lot alike. As you can tell, there are a lot of factors conspiring against me.

Now that I've been working with SCI for about 6 months (oh my GOD! has it already been that long!?), it's becoming more and more common for people to say, "Welcome back! Good to see you again! Don't you remember me?" To which the honest answer is usually no (another non-helpful factor: Filipino men all tend to have one of about 10 different names. Not a terribly creative naming culture, from what I can tell).  It's especially awkward now that my coworkers are starting to bring back reports of seafarers who have asked about me...and I usually have no idea who they're talking about. It makes me feel terrible, but what can I do?

It was a very nice change, then, that in today's sloppy, sleety, and altogether disgusting weather, I got to visit THREE ships, each for the second time. On each vessel, I got a hero's welcome (always a nice ego boost, especially when you're drenched in filthy slush) and an awful lot of food. And I even held up my end of the deal by recognizing people - three for three! I was particularly excited because the MSC Luisa, possibly my favorite ship ever, was in, and I had begun fantasizing about my lunch there from the minute I saw its name printed on the ship list. The cook of the Luisa does not belong on a container ship. He belongs in a 5-star Manhattan kitchen. This man is a culinary magician. He's from Madagascar. He speaks French (to this day, the only francophone seafarer I've met). And he's awesome. We are, needless to say, good friends. 

I really don't know how to impress on you how nice it is to be able to walk into a galley and embrace someone you recognize, remember, and actually want to see after months on end of incredibly superficial encounters. I love my job, but it's so draining to have to be the person that everyone remembers and esteems (being a young woman in a port of mostly men helps a lot) when I, in turn, simply see too many people to remember many of them. It makes the meaningful encounters, like my friendship with the Malagasy cook, stand out all the more. 

It'll be interesting to see how the next 6 months play out - whether I continue to embarrass myself with the same frequency, or whether more and more faces will start to stand out in the crowd. I'm certainly hoping for the latter outcome.