Coffee Talk #5: International Banana Republicans

So there I was. Early Sunday morning, at Arrivals in a relatively quiet airport. The carousel of people coming and going was hardly turning at this hour. Every now and then the sliding doors would open, and each time only a small group of people, or fewer, would pass through. It became quite evident how this otherwise bustling and thriving area is bound by ebbs and flows, and Sunday mornings are more ebb than flow. Even for hubs. And I was more than a witness, I was part of it. Together with a handful of other souls who likely had also battled their alarm clocks earlier that day. And we were there when the bars, restaurants, and kiosks stocked up and got ready. Opening for the flow of weary travellers and airport picker-uppers shortly to commence.

I’m here to pick up the Canadian Correspondent, whom I haven’t seen in 12 years. Of course, throughout the years we’ve stayed in touch. Thanks to the internet. But an actual visit to either side of the Atlantic just didn’t materialise. So while I’m waiting, AirPodded on a jazzy playlist, my thoughts wander in all directions. Like whether or not we would instantly recognise each other. Should be fine, right? It’s only been a bit more than a decade. Yes, the face has substantially more facial hair now. And yes, I’ve gained some weight. And yes, grey hairs have helped themselves into my life. And yes, the curls are still curling, but even those seem to be coming with age nowadays.

I found a pillar that was perfectly suitable for taking up a James Dean stance. As well as providing a solid position to keep track of the arrivals. Not that I really needed to secure a vantage point. I was able to easily sweep my surroundings like a sentry, glancing left and right. Carefully monitoring progress at the coffee bar. The barista would be ready to open before long. The two ristretto I downed before leaving the house this morning were soon to be ancient history.

I leave my post to stretch my legs, an even pace through the hall, and just like that the Canadian Correspondent walked through the sliding doors.

Recognition didn’t take a millisecond. Obstructed slightly by other picker-uppers, his appearance had lost no fidelity. How he walks always reminds me of our grandfather. He is clearly my cousin.

Instant recognition and laughter. Targeting the barista who had just opened shop. In minutes, even after a 12-year hiatus, my cousin’s Dutch skills were fully functioning as he ordered two cappuccino to go.

With warm caffeinated beverages, we were locked and loaded for the drive back to the Sticks. Add the first days of summer, and catching up in person, to that equation, and you’ve got yourself a proper road trip.

Of course, one of the first things to inquire is how everyone on either side of the Atlantic has been. Which, together with COVID, formed the red threads the conversation would pull back towards, after gradually digressing into the odd rabbit hole or two. We exchanged stories about the hilarious policies both our governments implemented in their attempts to control a pandemic, and that horrendously backfired of course, and the abundant lack of sensibility the vast majority of people seemed desperate to showcase.

While chopping it up, it became evident that we’re still basically the same dudes. International Banana Republicans, in a car having coffee. On their way to the Sticks. My appearance being a bit scruffy. His appearance a bit prophet-like. With conversations that didn't skip a beat. We made it back to our place well within the hour.

In my wife’s culture, there’s the expression: Blood attracts blood. The meaning was perfectly illustrated by our daughter, not even three years old, meeting her four-year-old cousin from abroad for the very first time, and instinctively giving him a hug, the blood-attracts-blood treatment. This did not remain an isolated case. ?

For now, coffee and contemplation. With the diaspora of kins evidently present on both family trees, will our children grow up with similar strong ties to their cousins living abroad? Will easy internet access enable them to stay connected? And how will the passing of the years impact their sense of familiarity? Blood. Attracts. Blood. ??