Coincidences

by Scott Sturman

From Victoria Island, Hong Kong - photo by JoAnn Sturman

I once saw an obstetrician I knew, standing in line in the Hong Kong Airport.  I approached him from behind and declared, “Come with me, sir.  There’s an irregularity with your passport.”  He was more relieved than angry when he recognized me.  I ran into another obstetrician in a lodge near Denali National Park, and although no high jinks were involved, I was struck by the coincidence of seeing two associates from the same field so far from home.  But these encounters don’t compare with real coincidences.

 On the Way to Denali - photo by JoAnn Sturman

In 2002 my wife JoAnn and I hiked the Milford Tract on New Zealand's South Island.  Each day during the tourist season a pulse of fifty hikers begin the 33 mile, four day trek.  All stay together each night in lodges positioned along the way.  It's not a a physically taxing hike, but one which lends itself to meeting new people.  One of our fellow hikers was a woman from the Bay Area with whom we socialized over meals and drinks, but the chemistry was not such that we stayed in contact after the trip.
 

Milford Track, New Zealand - photo by JoAnn Sturman

Five years later JoAnn and I spent a week in New Mexico visiting Sky City, Chaco Canyon, and other ruins in the area.  We stopped by Taos, where my cousin Joan, an artist, was living with her new husband.  The second night of our stay our hosts had a social obligation, so we asked Joan for a restaurant recommendation.  She gave us a list, and we arbitrarily selected one which sounded appealing.  When we arrived, the restaurant was full, so we departed and drove to number two on the list.  This restaurant was divided into a number of separate rooms which seated perhaps forty people apiece.  We were initially seated in an area which was located near the bar, but the cigarette smoke prompted us to request another table in an adjoining room.  After ordering drinks, I looked across the room and noticed a woman seated with a group at a large table.  She looked vaguely familiar, and I asked JoAnn, "Isn't that such and such from the Milford Tract?"

"I'm not sure, but let me find out." 

And indeed it was!  Our old acquaintance was in Taos taking a photography class.  When I think of seeing her again in this most unlikely place, I can't help but think of all the pieces falling in place for us to see each other again. 

Mural Cathedral Santo Domingo, Cuzco - photo by JoAnn Sturman

In 2004 we flew from Cuzco to Puerto Maldonado in the rain forest of Peru, where we planned to stay several nights at an eco lodge on the Tambopata River, a tributary of the Amazon.  After landing at the regional airport we rode a four wheel drive vehicle through the jungle to the river where a two hour motorized dugout took us to our lodgings.  There were perhaps twenty in our group, most of whom were traveling independently.  As chance would have it, JoAnn and I were seated across from a couple from California.  Being Italian and never at a loss for words, she soon was engaged in a conversation with our boat mates.  Yes, the wife was from Stockton, and she just happened to know one of JoAnn’s relatives, who owned a farm in the area.  One thing led to another, and they discovered not only did they both attend the same wedding several years ago, but JoAnn and her fellow traveler were also distant cousins.

Abu Simbel, Egypt - photo by JoAnn Sturman

And finally ...  in 2007 JoAnn and I traveled to Egypt for a two weeks of sight seeing.  The trip was sponsored by the now defunct Travel Learn Company and consisted of seven clients from across the country, who were to congregate at the Ramses II Hotel in Cairo to meet our guide and commerce the tour.  When we entered the designated room to join our traveling companions, seated at the table were two familiar faces–a podiatrist and his wife who also lived in our hometown Fresno.

So when I’m out and about in a distant place, I always look around to see if I know anybody.  One just never knows.

Machu Pichu, Peru - photo by JoAnn Sturman