I have a number of stories rumbling about in my head, and there’s one in particular I want to tell. But in order to do so, I have to tell you first about Sophia. (That would be Sneaky Sophia of the Vicks story.)

As much research as I did, as much reading and preparing I did before I left, I really was unprepared. When you are traveling to a place so very different than your own surroundings I don’t know that you can truly be ready for what you’ll experience. Looking back, I think I was a bit too sure about what I thought I’d see and do. I did go with an open mind. I was determined to enjoy everything and learn as much as I could. And I did in so many ways.

Nothing I’d read or heard was even remotely accurate. Surely, factually, things were right- but words do not do justice to the richness, the diversity, the incredible complexity of India. And that includes its people.

I worked with a team of several investigators, training them on advanced topics. Sophia stood out to me immediately. She seemed quieter and more reserved than the rest of the team, but her eyes danced with thought and feeling. Intrigued, I remember the first time we sat together. She seemed very nervous.

We talked and worked through the tasks and I could tell she was very intelligent and inquisitive, even if she didn’t say a lot. I reached out and worked to gain her trust; slowly, we established a dialog and a rapport. I came to look forward to our chats each day, to learning more about my quietly intense friend. She accompanied me and others on several shopping trips. Sophia was not the most talkative of the group, but her eyes told me everything I needed to know. When we walked in the streets, she often took my arm as we walked and we talked about small things. It felt very comfortable and familiar, as though we’d known each other for along time.

Two Sundays before I left, we went shopping, just the two of us. We hit Commercial St and did some clothes shopping. Sophia helped me pick out a couple gorgeous kurtis and some jeans. It was a lot of fun and it was nice not to have someone trying to force me into pink. She also asked for my help in picking out a salwar for herself, and the one she chose was a radiant purple and orange. I still laugh that she sought the opinion of the most fashion challenged person ever.

Later we went to local mall and talked over quesadillas that had no cheese. (Don’t ask. They were fine, cheese or no cheese.) We talked about where we grew up, our families, our hopes and dreams. It was a very honest and heartfelt conversation. We also visited her church, which I felt was an extremely personal thing to share- and I was honored. It’s not as though we in the US share faith this way, in an unassuming and friendly way. The conversation is always fraught with tension and aggression. But not this time. We discussed prayer, faith, Christianity… so many things, without judgment or rancor. I wish it could be this way with everyone.

Sophia also invited me to her home, and I met her roommates and spent time with them. The entire time I felt the connection and pondered how two people with such dissimilar backgrounds could have so many things in common. It gave me a wonderful sense of happiness to find an unexpected friend in an unexpected place.

The next day is when I came down with my illness. I didn’t come to work, but I logged into the internet. That was the day I found out about Amber. There, alone in my hotel, the most tenuous connection imaginable connected me to no one, really, and all I could do was search for details surrounding her death. Never during my time in India had I felt as lonely and as cut off from comfort as I did then.

Tuesday dawned, and though I didn’t feel well, I went into the office. I needed to be around people. Several people asked if I was keeping well- clearly, I wasn’t. But my malaise stemmed more from the heart, then, than my head. In the hours since getting the news, I realized I was going to have to go through the grieving process in India. And that I had a choice- go it alone or reveal what had happened. I asked Sophia to talk with me later that afternoon.

I shared my pain and she took my hand, looked me in the eye, and just listened. She let me ramble and reminisce and cry. And then I did something I never thought I’d ask of anyone- I asked her to take me to church. Her church. I wanted some place to honor Amber’s memory that was peaceful. And I wanted to be beside someone who I felt at ease with; in many ways, being near someone I felt comfortable with was more important than anything. I had to hide so much of myself in India (it’s not as though gay people are out) and the connection we forged was more open than anything I expected to have. That openness didn’t change a whit even when I came out to her, in a tortured and painful (for me) conversation the following day.

But our church foray was not meant to be just yet, as I grew much more ill and was confined to my hotel until the following Sunday- my last Sunday in Bangalore. During the week Sophia called to check on me nightly, gently admonishing me if I seemed not to be resting and inquiring after my needs. She and Blake went to the grocery one night and brought me juice and tissues. And despite my pathetic condition, she braved infection to sit with me. Her concern was evident but I could tell she missed talking with me, too. I know I missed her.

That last Sunday she picked me up at my hotel and we did some light walking. We talked and discussed my impending departure. Both of us felt that there was not enough time, that we had so much more to share. The whole day had a melancholy feeling. That evening we went to St. Mary’s Basilica. Not Sophia’s church, but a lovely Catholic church in a bustling part of town.

We sat quietly for a time, watching the evening sun illuminate the stained glass behind the altar. I thought of Amber and I thought of Tracy.

“Would it be ok if we stay for mass?” Sophia asked quietly.

I thought for a moment. “Yes.” And so we stayed. It was my first church service- ever. I took solace watching the faithful who filled St. Mary’s and listening to Sophia recite the rosary. Despite my aversion to Christianity, despite my issues with being ostracized by strangers who think I’m going to hell, I felt a sense of calm and peace. And love.

These moments, these glimpses I’ve provided don’t touch the entire depth of the bond I forged with Sophia. But they do illustrate the kindness, the connection two people from worlds away can form.

And now I can begin to tell the rest of the tale. But you’ll have to read the next post to find out about it.