TATTOOS (MAY 2013)
in my late teens, i lived in france for a couple of years. i was there as part of a church missionary program, and it was a difficult time. i was instructed to dress in a clergy-like manner and i loathed the constant staring that resulted.
one day while in paris, i was riding the métro with a friend when i noticed a guy staring at me. he was bald, young, and wore wire-rimmed glasses. i groaned inwardly and wished i were invisible. however, i noticed he was wearing heavy black robes, and had a goofy, boyish look on his face. he seemed to be trying to make eye contact with me. suddenly, he rushed over with his similarly-robed companion and approached me.
he introduced himself as a benedictine monk. with an incongruous excitement, he explained that he wore black because he was ‘dead to the world’. he seemed so happy to see me, and emphasized how much we had in common. i was surprised and touched by his humanism. after bro-ing out together for a few minutes, he pressed a little brass medallion into my hand that depicted a saint. then the métro doors opened, and he rushed off the métro car with his companion.
i think about that guy a lot. and i still have the medallion.