The Purple Paisley Suitcase
I’ve been doing more traveling, speaking, teaching. Selling my book. I love to travel and I love to see new places and meet new people. I also love to sniff out new communities and get a feel for the similarities and differences each Jewish community has.
What I don't love is losing my suitcase.
This past Sunday I traveled to Chicago for some speaking engagements. As I waited at the gate, I noticed that my boarding zone was 5 and my seat was 36c. In other words, I'd be practically the last person to get on that plane. Then I heard an announcement, becoming more and more common, that the flight was very full and passengers were being asked to gate check their carryons.
"Oh no," I thought to myself. "No way I'm doing that." I had my laptop in my suitcase and a tight connection from O'Hare to my first destination, and I didn't want to risk longer delays with baggage claim.
Well, by the time I got on the plane I didn't have a choice. There was no room left and the flight attendant couldn't find space for my bag. She "offerred" to check my bag for me and I agreed (especially as everyone was waiting for me to get settled). With some frazzled questions such as my name and seat, I completely forgot to get a claim check.
Smooth flight, landing at O'Hare. It was 4:12 pm and my first speaking gig was half hour away at 5:30. I made my way as fast as possible to baggage claim, only to discover that UNITED baggage claim was actually in a DIFFERENT TERMINAL (oh and it was snowing). I walked briskly and efficiently and saw that there were only two bags left on the carousel... and neither was mine. I asked a gate agent what to do and he told me I needed to file a claim with Baggage Services.
It was now 5pm. I texted the woman in charge of the speaking engagement and asked her to stall. Obviously someone else would have to tell the kids' story at 5:30, but my next gig was a talk for parents at 6pm. I prayed and got in line. I recalled how my daughter Nomi reminds me to say "Gam zu l'tova - this too is for the best" - and I whispered this to myself, promising to give tzedaka, plus extra if I find my suitcase.
I finally got to the front and a lovely gentlemen named Yahoun assisted me.
Yahoun: Ma'am, can I see your claim check?
Me: I didn't get one.
Y: (startled) You don't have one?
Me: Um, no, it was a little frazzled on the plane and I wasn't really planning on checking the bag, oh, and I have to be in Northbrook, like as soon as possible, is there some way I could call you to do this over the phone?
Y: No ma'am, I am sorry, we need to file this in person. OK, so no claim check.
Me: No.
Y: Was your name on the suitcase?
Me: (tasting the bitter taste of failure) No. No name.
Y: What did your suitcase look like?
Me: It is a purple paisley suitcase.
Y: OK! Let me call the gate in Cleveland.
Yahoun continued to fruitlessly yet valiantly search the interwebs for my suitcase. I reflected on my stroke of brilliance when I went out and bought myself a new, lovely, distinctive and feminine purple paisley suitcase instead of continuously using ratty old black wheelies from the family stash. Yahoun proceeded to enter my claim into the computer.
Y: Tell me again what your suitcase looks like?
Me: Purple paisley.
Y: I am sorry, what is paisley?
Me: (controlling my patience, as the clocks ticks ever closer to 5:30) You know, paisley, it kind of looks like teardrops?
Y: Oh, yes, they have it on ties and stuff!
Me: Exactly!
Y: OK, I know what that is.
Me: Is there a number I can call you on directly, to follow up?
Y: No, I'm sorry, but here is an 800 number.
At exactly 5:30 I ran outside and caught my ride. Exactly 20 minutes an unfamiliar Chicago number rang on my phone.
Me: Hello?
Y: Hello Mrs. Koval, this is Yahoun.
Me: YAHOUN!! I am so happy to hear from you!
Y: Yes, well I found your suitcase!
Me: You did?? Where was it?
Y: I looked up and saw an agent walking by with a purple paisley suitcase and figured... that must be yours!
Me: Yay! Thank you so much Yahoun, you're the best!
Y: So it will be waiting here at the airport for you.
Me: OK, great!
I hung up, whereupon my driver said, "Why didn't you have them deliver it?
Me: Oh right. I was so excited they found it, I didn't think of that.
I decided to try my luck calling back the phone number from my caller ID, remembering Yahoun saying there was no way to reach him directly. Well, guess who answered?
Y: This is Yahoun.
Me: Yahoun, hey! It's me!
Y: Hello Mrs. Koval.
Me: Hey! So do you think you could possibly, you know, have that suitcase delivered to my host?
Y: Sure, Mrs. Koval, whatever you 'd like.
So that's how it came to pass that my suitcase came back just a couple of hours later... purple and paisley, just like I like it. Tzedaka has been given - and indeed, it WAS all for the best, thanks to Yahoun, my driver's idea, and G-d's intervention.
Shabbat Shalom,
Ruchi Koval
