There's A Stranger In Town

In a survey by Hilton Worldwide, and the American Happiness Association, Tucson is first among “the happiest U.S. cities to travel to during the winter months.”

When my husband and I made Tucson our home, we were cautioned that we would get calls in the winter, from people we hardly knew, wanting to stay with us. Naturally, we delighted in hosting numerous friends, but when a woman who was, “the friend-of-a friend-of a friend,” called to inform me that, “We are coming to Tucson.” I replied, “How lovely, and where are you staying?” I don’t know if they ever arrived, because I never heard from her again.

Every winter thousands of tourists arrive from every state in the Union including Florida. After all, ours is a “dry heat.” Sometimes when I’m hiking, I will encounter a visitor who will ask me a question such as, “Will you please take my picture.” I am usually happy to oblige unless they start shouting directions, “Be sure to get the cactus, and the mountains, and my son---without his finger in his nose---in the picture.” The other day, a woman approached me in the desert, and asked, “How far do I have to hike to find a lake?” I answered, “Minnesota!”

A couple sitting at a picnic table told me they were from Wasilla, Alaska.  I asked them, “Do you know Sarah Palin?” “She lives seven houses down from us,” answered the man. “Can you see Russia from your house?” I asked. “Sure,” he replied, “Every school child knows Russia is only 2 miles away.” His answer was only fair, because I also tease people when they are clueless about the West. Friends from New Jersey were excited when I suggested they ride the stagecoach to my house from the airport. They were disappointed to find out that is the moniker of the limousine service.

I have been a tourist many times in my life, and have found out the hard way that it is prudent to learn some customs, such as, “haggling is encouraged.” I don’t like to haggle. When I say, “No,” I mean, “No”. But when a vendor chased me onto my tour bus in Morocco, I bought a coat, that smelled like a camel, for $5.00 just to get rid of him. Also, I learned in Mexico not to hand my camera to the man with the burro, because after he took my picture, he wouldn’t return my camera until I gave him some pesos.

Language can also be a problem. When a customs agent asked a couple from India, “What is your purpose for being in the United States?” The man said “tourism.” The agent thought he said, “terrorism.”  Whoops.  I learned that if you know no other word in a foreign language, “toilet” is essential! I had to get my request across with charades in Viet Nam.

So, I have an affinity for visitors who come to my city. One morning, when I hiked to the top of my mountain, the clouds began to lift, and, as I came over the ridge, the sun’s rays shone on the white hair and long beard of an old rabbi who was reciting his morning prayers. For a moment, I thought, “Oh, My God! It’s Moses. But then, I realized that was impossible, because this frail old man couldn’t lug two tablets of stone down the mountain, and, besides that, people haven’t yet learned the lessons from the second set (Moses broke the first ones).

When he was finished with his prayers, I said, “Shalom” (Peace), and he “Shalomed” me back. I asked him where he was from, and he said, “New York.” Now I was certain he wasn’t Moses, because New York isn’t in Egypt. Boy, was I relieved. I wouldn’t have to help him carry those heavy tablets down the mountain after all.

Esther Blumenfeld (come up and see me sometime)