White Hat

A White Hatter has an image, reputation for being someone you can trust, someone who is there to lend a helping hand, to be of service to all travelers, to be nice regardless of race, religion, or culture. They know you accept them completely for who they are and you will absolutely not pass judgement on what they do. This does not necessarily mean you understand everything there is about them and that you will be able to answer all questions correctly with proper direction and advice. They know you are a volunteer trying your best. And lastly, they know you are their friend, their buddy.

You never know what you are going to get when a traveler approaches as to question or issue and whether they are completely normal or not, or what weird unique behaviour they have on the go.  I do have to be careful with my response to question because a person might become irritated otherwise. I so much want to kid around with some at times, but I have to pick and choose carefully when using certain responses, such as:

• Ladies washroom? I have no idea as I only go to the men's;

• Carousel number 2 should be between carousel 1 and 3;

• Car rentals? Door number 5 on the right, but doors 6 and 7 also get you there, sort of. If I am wrong, I will no longer be here when you come back for me!

• Gate C70? That will be in either the D or E sections. If it is a domestic flight it will be gate C, and international flight will be D...makes sense eh, gate C for a domestic flight? Oh forget it! Down the corridor and to the right and good luck!

Enough of that.

I started my first hour of official duty in Departures pre-security in the International Terminal. I arrived at my usual spot and an elderly Sikh came over right away and started some friendly chat. Expecting a question, he finally said he wanted me to take his picture with his son before they leave on their flight. This happens often, a good place to start this evening, and I naturally said sure, no problem. His son came over and they line themselves up for a perfect portrait with the right smile. I hold up their cell phone to focus...

“Hold it, hold it, your phone wants to take my picture, not yours (duh).” 

So they came back to huddle, we pushed the right button, they lined up, and I took two pictures. You never take one picture anymore, usually three at a minimum. He examined and then deleted the first one. He liked the second because he had his eyes closed in the first.

“Why did you close your eyes for when you knew I was trying to take your picture, you silly goof!” I exclaimed. I reminded myself I just told a complete stranger he was a silly goof and he is smiling and has no problem with it! He said he was really grateful for my help and thanked me! We are buddies!

Next a young Sikh comes over in his modern business attire with his old fashioned parents in their native loose clothing, always remaining several steps behind their son as they wanted no interaction themselves.

“Hi, could you tell me where the Canadian Border Security office is?"

“Down a floor past the Information Desk.”

“But the police told me to come up to the Departures level?”

I reassured him with my bold voice:” Well, they are not right! Just take the escalator over there and it will be on your left.”

Truth be told, I could have been wrong, as my memory is overloaded with facts! I sure hope I was right as I just went against the police! He hesitated, then asked, “My parents are scared of escalators and so is there an elevator close by?” Apparently those who have loose clothing do not want to get it caught up in an escalator! I learned something for what should have been obvious! I pointed over to an elevator. 

Next in line for questioning was a middle aged bald Muslim father, about two thirds my height, who came over from his family group of eight.

“Excuse me, but can you tell me where I can pray for my family before the flight?”

“Good grief, well, there is a chapel in the domestic terminal (with a slight Christian flavor), but there really is no place like that in the International. It would be rather a long walk...”

He seems to know about its location based on previous experience.

“Oh, I do not want to go that far. Look, I just need to find a place to pray close by here that is quiet and peaceful.”

We both looked around to examine the open concept of this terminal, with a few portable wall partitions to section off areas. People were mulling around all over and so complete solitude was not likely. So I suggested the men's washroom! He looked at me quite oddly as if to say "is this guy for real or not?" He did not like that idea at all, but stayed pleasant with me. Come to think of it, this was rather a bonehead idea, but I was thinking he could get a private stall that way! He must have concluded I was innocent and trying but his religion means he prays on his knees and he bows to Allah and so we needed to find a better place so he would not get embarrassed and cause a disturbance!

He lets go and says: “Oh, I will just say my prayers over there by that wall."

“I can take you behind those counters as they have fenced off some airport storage."

“Nah, that's okay.”

I am kind of glad he never took me up on my idea as I am sure security would not want a complete stranger disappearing into airport storage for a period of time. He calls out for his son to come over with his ball cap on as it was time. I agreed to stand in front so that they could perhaps have a little privacy praying behind my back. I then noticed his teenage daughter from the group with her glasses on and just full of thought, looking a bit disgusted with her hands on her hips.

“Daaaad! Do it behiiind the wall!”

Now I love my own daughter, but this sure sounded like a familiar response from a daughter as it brought back memories when they want to straighten out the father so he will not create a scene! Just priceless! But behind the wall was not an option as Air Canada agents were there. So he starts praying with chant and fairly soon they were on their knees and they bowed down as they normally do. I noticed they were facing more South than East and figured he was a bit off with directions and so was going to tell them to turn a bit, but decided I best not interrupt as I definitely was no expert of their practice.

So I stood there and stood, then realized I was too far from the public eye to be noticed and so took a few steps forward. Sure enough people started walking behind me. When they did, they looked about three times as to what was going on before they figured it out. Sometimes you just do not know what is happening at the airport and people are sensitive and suspicious of what looked like abnormal behaviour. So I took a few steps back again.

They must have prayed for 15 minutes and I was getting a little impatient as others were needing my attention. I asked a few employees walking by if there was any more suitable place for prayer and they said no. Once done I shook the Dad's shoulders to get his attention and assured him the only official place was that chapel in the domestic terminal. He gave me a friendly punch and thanked me for being there and looking out for them. At least we tried to make it as private as possible! We are buddies!

After awhile when things got quiet as to activity, time for a change in scenery and so I went where no passenger is allowed through a "venturi tube" with my security pass to get into the back. Now I had noticed about an hour earlier in a connections corridor between terminals, there was this man sprawled out laying across four seats, with his one arm resting on his luggage holding his book open, with his other arm holding his cell phone. He was looking at his phone and texting a message with one hand! How do people do that and why did he not put his book down first? So one hour later, he is still laying in the same position doing the same thing! Must be comfortable! 

Next I go into International Arrivals post security and hop on a kart to give rides to those in need from the far away gates and take them to customs. After giving a few rides and making my way along a tight corridor, I hear:

“Hey, can you give my wife a ride?”

Expecting an elderly or partly disabled couple, I turned around and here was a lovely young family of four with two little kids, the father who was a bit delirious with the mother crying.

“My wife had a fall and got hurt and is in a lot of pain.”

Of course I will as this is what I am here for! I noticed when she was coming over she was walking perfectly fine, her arms were okay, but she was crying. She must have broken a rib or pinched a nerve, but not something I needed to know and so never asked. The little boy, who looked like a young Harry Potter, with dark glasses on, eagerly hopped in the front of the kart with me, and the young missy filled with love went with the parents in the back seat.

Once I got to customs, same story with mother crying and who decided she could not walk any further. The Dad who was in a daze realized he never filled out a customs card yet, but went off in search of a wheel chair first. Hey, that's probably my job and so I asked one airport employee where I could get one. She said this was the airline's responsibility. So I asked the family what flight they were on and where from. Both kids eagerly and excitedly responded, “Westjet! Orlando!” The kids were there to help in anyway they could! 

Hmmmm, young family, Orlando, Disneyworld...maybe a ride went bad or something, and they were fleeing for Canada's medical system? So I hopped off the kart in a crowd to search for a wheel chair since Customs would not appreciate me driving the kart through their gates at a slow but disturbing pace, ramming people and knocking over poles and ropes! I knew of a Westjet desk for US connections, but there was a crowd of people in line. I had to speak up from behind to make my presence known.

“Excuse me, excuse me, coming through...” as I started to barge my way along. Oh, this is so ridiculous I thought and so I disconnected and reconnected a few ropes (because a White Hatter knows how to do this)! I bypassed the lineup and made a bee line to the counter and three agents had my undivided attention as I came appropriately dressed.

“Say, could you please get me a wheel chair right away. I have my kart at the customs gate and my client is in a lot of pain.”

They talk with themselves, had their minds going, and got their cell phone ready. Their action reminded me of a team in a huddle coming up with a game plan! Thinking they were proceeding to fulfill my request, I went back to the kart to announce to the family, no worries, a Westjet agent was coming soon. I never got a peep out of the Mom ever and she was still crying, but I knew she was listening. I ended up looking for the father, then found he was filling in his customs card. I took the kids aside who were a bit in awe of this tall white elderly dude with a huge white felt hat.

“Now then, you need to take good care of your mother and be strong.”

They both responded with a nod and a friendly "uh huh." Then the young missy went over to give her mom a really big hug and I just hoped she was not squeezing her pain! The father with his filled in card agreed with me and told his daughter that she will have to wear a back pack now. The pack was pretty big, but she was a gamer and put it on.

Now where is that wheel chair? I sure hope Westjet comes across! But this is Westjet, not United Airlines with its tarnished reputation! Westjet always takes great care of their customers (well, most of the time)! It was a relief to find an agent coming along with that chair to give the family a much needed boost through customs. I had done what I could. I said my good byes and they heartily thanked me for my help. We are buddies! Airport agents recognized me as I was leaving and also thanked me for my efforts. You are welcome!

I did think later that perhaps I should have practiced more first aid and asked questions like where does it hurt, is there any tingling in your hands or feet, but was told as a volunteer to not go there. I could have asked if they wanted a paramedic, then phoned the airport duty manager as paramedics are always there, but not to phone for an ambulance except in the most extreme situation. 

Another evening in the life of a White Hatter and the experience gained will help me on future shifts as I give service to others.