In the final years of the 1980s, I was beginning a backpacking trip to Europe with a friend. Because my travel mate was interested in starting a postgraduate program in New York, we had planned a 14-day stopover there on the way to London.
We got to the postgrad residence, a big ten-floor structure on the Upper West Side called International House. Setting down our luggage, we made our way to the canteen, where we picked up meals, took a seat, and began chatting with other diners.
Adjacent to my seat was an gentleman from Iraq enrolled in an engineering program at a prestigious New York university. He inquired what I did for a living, and I told him that I had just graduated with a scientific background and had been conducting research using an electron microscope.
He pointed out that there was an research lab at Columbia University – close to the school of engineering, which was why he was aware of it. He recommended that I ought to seek a position with them. I dismissed the idea, telling him that I was about to fly to Europe and, even more importantly, I did not possess a US visa.
A day later I ventured out, returning to the canteen that after dark. The engineering student approached me and informed me that he had set up a meeting for me with the director of the microscopy lab at Columbia. Given that he had gone to the trouble, I went to the meeting – but immediately told my interviewer that I was without a work permit, so I was probably wasting her time.
In typical New York fashion – a place where opportunities abound – she said: “We'll handle it. When can you start?” I missed my plane to London.
I worked there for three years. A perk of the job was that I was granted no-cost classes at Columbia, and I seized the chance to complete a graduate degree in global studies.
I never saw that student again and I am unaware of his identity, but his incredible act of kindness altered my destiny in multiple respects. I would never have had the courage or self-assurance to reach out at an elite institution and request employment. Moreover, I had consistently hoped to take classes in another country, but lacked the financial means without that tuition waiver.
Perhaps most importantly, that gig at Columbia resulted in a job in Zurich where I met my beautiful French husband, with whom I now have a family of four kids. It was a total sliding doors moment. That kind stranger redirected my path in life, and I’m eternally thankful.
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