Myriam

She came in like a breath of fresh air. She came when I needed someone most. Anyone who'd make me feel less of a stranger in an unfamiliar surrounding.

I dragged myself early out of bed that frigid morning for my first day at school. I walked to class with butterflies in my stomach. It was a huge class and much to my surprise it was a mix of undergrads, grads and PhD students. Something unheard of in India.

As we settled the rustling of sandwich wrappings didnt diminish nor did the number of Tim Horton cups find themselves tucked away from the professor's stare. In fact the number increased as the hours wore on and some students even started chewing gum. I liked it. You had a mouth, you fed it. The tongue in your head was even mightier. You spoke to your prof like he was a distant friend. You weren't being rude, you were just being yourself. I liked it.

But none of it rubbed off on me. Blame it on my upbringing which taught me that certain places and people, if I may add, demanded a certain code of conduct. It is so ingrained in me that it will take a million Tim Horton icecaps to shake that hierarchy out of me. The class, though it was a 3 hour class, wasn't as tiring as I imagined. Maybe it was my first and I was revelling in the newness of it all. We sat round a long table like a round table conference. In India, we sat on separate chairs that had a foldable trays to place your books on. Here the floor was carpeted and a strong smell of coffee and ham hung heavy in the room. In India the floors had a layer of dust and soft breeze played in the room. Here students didnt mingle much and went about their business. Back home there was a constant murmur often punctuated by a loud laugh followed by sounds of friendly slaps on the back. Others business became yours too.

Two different worlds.

My mind wandered and I sat comfortable in my thoughts till the class paused for a small break. Some went out, some sat peering into their books. I tried to make myself look busy. When the class resumed, so did my thoughts. I didn't know anyone and didn't have the interest to go up and make friends. I smiled when I met somebody's eye. That was all. I was content being by myself.

But when class got over and people started filing out, I saw her walk up to me smiling. I smiled back and before my lips could straighten from that curl she was talking to me.

Little did I know that for the next year she was to be my friend and confidante. Myriam.

When I was unwell and couldn't make it to class she photocopied notes for me. When it was my turn for a presentation and the printer ran out of paper she ran looking for paper. When I had trouble with my computer login account at the linguistic lab she knocked on the supervisor's door. When I had trouble with a class assignment she came early to the lab to help me out. How could I not think myself lucky?

I remember it was my first presentation. My eyes peeled the huge class for her. She wasn't there. My heart sank but I carried on all the while thinking I would have done better if she were there. When I told her so, she made sure she was around for my presentations.

When I got engaged she was the first to know in school. She was joyous and then after a pause her eyes moistened. She thought of her past and told me her story. I consoled her and told her she had what any woman would be proud of - a cherubic child, 'ton petit tresor' (your little treasure). She brightened and since then we call him 'petit tresor'. Just knowing she was in class made me comfortable and I was myself.

I went home last December for my marriage and got her a little gift. Now I must make that call, even if it means faltering in French and meet her.

How did I fool myself into believing I was content all by myself? Deep down I needed a friend. And it took Myriam to show me so.