Today I attended a workshop on being an "Effective Facilitator," in D.C. In the morning I boarded a commuter train in Brunswick MD, transferred to the Metro in Rockville and ended up at one of the NPS headquarters buildings, on Eye St. (why not "Aye St.," I wonder?). Reversed the sequence to get back. The commuter train runs only on weekdays, and stops running before nighttime. For the first time (duh) I get why it's a "commuter" train.
One of the conductors on the morning train was working his last day before retiring. I learned this because many people greeted him when he entered the car and stopped him for several amiable, audible conversations as he passed through -- congratulating him, asking about his plans, pressing for the date, time and location of his retirement party. They talked among themselves about him, both before and after he made his appearance.
Waiting at the station in the afternoon, half the people suddenly crossed the surface-grade tracks and stood on the opposite platform. A woman came up to me and my colleague and asked why they'd moved. We said we were confused, too. Thinking out loud, she said, "Well, I recognize some of those people over there," pointing across the tracks. "I've seen them on the train before. But I don't know any of those people," waving toward those on our side of the tracks. Soon she moved across the tracks herself, toward her people, her train village, where she was no better informed but more comfortable.
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One of the conductors on the morning train was working his last day before retiring. I learned this because many people greeted him when he entered the car and stopped him for several amiable, audible conversations as he passed through -- congratulating him, asking about his plans, pressing for the date, time and location of his retirement party. They talked among themselves about him, both before and after he made his appearance.
Waiting at the station in the afternoon, half the people suddenly crossed the surface-grade tracks and stood on the opposite platform. A woman came up to me and my colleague and asked why they'd moved. We said we were confused, too. Thinking out loud, she said, "Well, I recognize some of those people over there," pointing across the tracks. "I've seen them on the train before. But I don't know any of those people," waving toward those on our side of the tracks. Soon she moved across the tracks herself, toward her people, her train village, where she was no better informed but more comfortable.
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