Lisa Myers Bulmash- May 2008

photos and art by Lisa Myers Bulmash
For those of us who keep Blogs, there are extreme pluses along with the occasional:
"One more thing to tend to?..." freak-outs. Meeting Lisa M.B. was one of those High-Perk moments. Her comments were always so well written, funny (big plus) and juicy. As with all friendships, we started out "chatting" by email. This led to a "quick" phone conversation of about 2 hours where I found myself telling her things that I've only told my closest friends. I knew that I had found the perfect Story Teller for the Bonfire. So, please enjoy this great moment around the fire with us. It's getting warmer, but still cool at night so remember to wrap up a bit....
Lisa?...I hand the floor over to YOU:

When I graduated from college back in the last century, my mother was still in the throes of competitive, post-divorce gift-giving. My dad had recently helped me buy my first car (okay, we found a used one and he bought it). So Mom pitched this idea to me in the spring of my senior year:

Mom: Do you still want to go to Europe?
Me: [not getting my hopes up] Ye-e-a-h....
Mom: Well... would you like to go as a post-graduation gift? -- I'd be coming too.
Me: Okay... [thinking, "bring the Muppets. Bring Jesse Jackson. As long as I get to go, I don't care."]
Mom: Okay, let's do it, then!

So we chose a 15-day bus tour of western Europe, so if we never returned, we'd have "seen a little of everything."

We started in London, then made a North Sea crossing on a large ferry boat to the Netherlands. Our bus then made its way down through Germany, Austria, Liechtenstein, Switzerland and Italy before coming back up through Monaco and France, and finally London again.

London to Americans must be like New York is to Europeans: expensive, fun, and full of stuff you'll just have to see another time. Mom and I arrived a day before the other passengers, so we took the Tube (the Underground subway) to Westminster Abbey and wandered around.

Look! Big Ben! And the Thames! And real-live bobbies! It's not just in books!

Then we decided to have bangers and mash (sausage and mashed potatoes) at a real, honest-to-God English pub. So we went in, sat down, and waited to be served.
We looked at the bartender across the room. He looked at us and kept cleaning the bar. We waited. He waited. So we got frustrated and left. Outside, Mom muttered, "They didn't want to serve black people." I couldn't see another reason, so I guessed she was right. It wasn't until YEARS later that I found this out: There's no such thing as sit-down service in a pub! You go to the bar, order, then pick up your food when it's ready. See, if I'd spent my senior year dating the English guy who eventually told me about this, I would've known this valuable information when we needed it. Just wasn't thinking ahead.

The North Sea crossing was a bit rough, but the waves lulled us to sleep. Then our bus headed out for the nearest tourist town in the Netherlands, Volendam.

See the clock at the bus ceiling that says "14:36" (2:36pm)? That's about a minute before our tour guide told us, "There's been a coup in Russia. Boris Yeltsin has just taken over the Kremlin. It might make our border crossings a little trickier. But don't worry -- it'll probably make the dollar a little stronger too."

Oh. Okay. As long as we can get home. Someday.

On tours like this, tourist traps take precedence over interesting things.

We saw Amsterdam's famous flower market -- from our bus. We saw the Rijksmuseum, where all the Rembrandts are kept -- from the bus. But the Busfrau, as one of our fellow passengers dubbed her, did allow us some fun. We saw a little of the red light district, and we took a canal boat ride and saw some lovely old buildings. Best part: seeing a heroin junkie shooting up on one of the mini-docks. When he realized he was being watched, he mooned us. (I still wish I had a picture of that.)

Most of Germany we saw from the bus (surprise), but it was neat to see what remained of the famous Black Forest, where witches live and small children get eaten by wolves in fairy tales. We stopped at a castle, then took a Rhine River cruise down most of west Germany. That's when European vacationers really seemed to notice my hair, which I'd had braided with extensions to cut down on morning primp time. Bear in mind that this was 1991: the pop singer Brandy was wearing her hair in braids at this time, so it wasn't like I was making a Black Power statement. But people actually pointed at me, babbling in various languages and staring openly. Teenage boys in Innsbruck, Austria, pushed each other into my path, staring at my hair. But the further south we traveled, the less people seemed to notice.

By the time we got to Venice, I was just making a fashion statement again, and no one blinked an eye in Lyons, France.

It was great to have my mom all to myself for an extended period of time. This vacation also turned out to be the last my mother took while healthy.

In Lucerne, Switzerland, I noticed Mom didn't seem to be able to walk in a straight line -- and she was perfectly sober. We later found out she had developed a degenerative neurological disease called non-Friedrich's ataxia. Her mind was intact, but the condition attacked her nervous system, balance and motor control; it eventually interfered with her breathing. She died before her 59th birthday.

But this trip gave me chances to do things with my mother I probably wouldn't have done otherwise. We went to a disco together (and left right away because there was hardly anyone there). We bought ten-dollar beers in Switzerland because that was the cheap booze. We laughed at the waiters: the Roman guy who kissed my mom because she chose a red rose instead of a pink one as they were passed around, and the French guy who ogled my insignificant cleavage while refilling our water glasses at a cabaret show. (No, he didn't spill a single drop.) I think our main regret was that we waited until we got to Italy to shop for shoes... we passed up a lot of really cute stuff. But I still have one of her Lladro figurines -- a little black shepherdess and her jug leaning on a wall -- standing on my fireplace mantle.

Mom bought that in the Netherlands. You know, the place we were wondering if we'd ever get out of after Boris Yeltsin took over Russia.

Comments

[stephanie]

Lisa, thank you for this wonderful tour! How very special that you were able to spend this time with your mother, you caught me off guard with her illness and all the more special that you have these memories of her.

The tour bus trip is a funny one and you tell it perfectly! If it's Tueday, it must be Belgium??

I'm off to visit your site now, thank you Lisa H for the introduction!

x...x
steph

[Chris]

Lisa M. B.;

Well, you've gone and done it.
You've made this cynical, sarcastic, snarky girl teary-eyed.

I loved reading this the first time. I'm sure I'll love reading it the second and third. Thank you for the photos. I didn't get a chance to travel with my mom, being so young and both of us poor, but after she died (on Mother's day '85) I saw so many places and things and wondered, what funny thing would mom have said to that? or, that? and especially to that?!

Thank you for this story.

[Seth]

Thanks for sharing such a one-of-a-kind and touching story. I am so happy that you and your mother were able to have such a wonderful adventure together.

[Lisa MB]

Bwah-ahahaha... you are now under my spell. You will now add me to your respective blog readers.

Seriously, thank you guys so much for your genuinely sweet and affirming words. My mom would be thrilled to pieces to be semi-famous.

[blowing kisses] Mwah.

~Lisa MB

[Tally Oliveau]

Lisa - I remember when you took this trip with your mom. I remember the first time you told me she was sick. I even remember the smell of chitlins cooking in her kitchen. Oh yes, it is etched in my nostrils forever. When I see a certain shade of yellow, I always think of her - and you. Thanks for the poignant story.

[Sharon at Norah'S]

What a beautiful story and memory of your Mom. Enjoyed very much the warmth of this bonfire.

[michelle ward]

LMB, I'm cracking up at your statement of having graduated in the last century. I never thought of it that way. Born in the last century too. Back in the 1900's I took this European bus trip....Sounds like the memories will be treasured for a century. What a perfect time of year to be remembering your Mom.