Loneliness Lives In A Crowd

Once again Angle was the last one in class to finish. She had been thinking so deeply about her work that she lost track of the time. She struggled to get her folder shut. Her fingers would not work together to fit the pages into the narrow opening. As the bell rang, she smashed the pages of her geometry assignment into the binder.

Angle’s mind started to scatter into a million different permutations: Everyone’s pages are so neat. Do people instinctively know to look straight ahead in a crowd? I’m so hungry!

Shoving aside her wayward thoughts, Angle pressed her way into the crowded hallway, packed with students trying to leave after a full day of classes. She barely registered her mom standing outside the office. She handed over the worn out backpack she wore over her shoulder. Without saying a word, she headed for the exit.

Too tired to offer anymore to the world, Angle put her head down and headed for the car. Her mom was used to Angle’s abruptness after school. Mondays were the worst. The routine of school was totally draining. Going from class to class, packing and unpacking her things, and trying desperately to keep calm.

During the ride home from school, Angle liked to people watch. She would stare out the window searching for mankind’s moments of loneliness. The short, young boy struggling to keep up with the cool kids walking in front of him. The homeless veteran asking for spare change on the corner. The woman staring solemnly in the direction of the playground where young children played. Angle was good to spot the feeling of loneliness in others because she personally knew it well.

Most people feel lonely from time to time. The difference with Angle was that she felt lonely all of the time. The doctors had said that Angle suffered from obsessive compulsive disorder, sensory processing disorder and autism, but what they didn’t realize was that Angle had hidden powers. Despite having trouble focusing on the mundane aspects of life, she had the ability to see the most obscure and tiny details around her. Angle could actually see the thoughts of others, the words swirled around them like a giant cloud of talk, not really letters, but emotions and something like pictures.

Being aware of other people’s thoughts was overwhelming. Tangled up in their inner dialogues, Angle could barely keep up with the outward conversations. She got lost somewhere between the two. Better to remain distant than to be the goof who was always lost.

Yearning to have a connection though, Angle had spent years observing others from the shadows. Looking on from the edges of every crowd, she took mental notes on people’s internal dialogs.

The strange thing about Loneliness is that it doesn’t live in isolation. Angle observed people experiencing loneliness even when they were in a group. Maybe because people would forget to see those around them? Or perhaps the crowd provided a disguise for people’s feelings. This research shaped her thesis: Loneliness lives in a crowd.

The Internet is the ultimate crowd. The universe of human consciousness tangled together at random. People post videos and text anonymously, then long for others to take notice. Likes are equated with personal affirmations. Struggling to find a connection, strangers form tribes around tastes and interests. Those unable to secure likes and comments are left without a virtual home. They exist only as random posts and videos.

One of these lost videos belonged to Mano, a school teacher in rural Portugal. Mano was a quiet man in his early sixties. He had never been married. Probably because he was in love with his work. He was more comfortable with books than other people. Tall and distinguished, but always a little disheveled; he was not traditionally handsome, but he drew your attention. Gray peppered his black hair and gave him the appearance of a man who spent a lot of time in deep contemplation.

Mano spent most evenings at his desk, a pawn shop find, with a twisted leg and drawers that wouldn’t close properly. He always had to stuff half a wine cork under the leg to keep the desk level. He would put his shiny new laptop on top of a stack of papers and search the Internet, looking for ideas to inspire his teenage students. Mostly, he watched videos about books and music, and occasionally a political speech. He tried to follow the themes that united them: love, fear, passion, and of course, loneliness.

The videos were meant to entertain, and sometimes even educate, but the reality was much more complicated.

Part smoke and mirrors and part raw reality, the Internet is real and fake at the same time. Mano saw it like one giant movie set, with lead actors like the Kardassians and Trevor Noah, then supporting actors like some random cat making baby sounds. Movies tackle real life situations, but within the confines of the script. The Internet also deals with life in highly scripted and edited ways. Most of the videos detach the subjects from the broader context. Time seems lost, giving the truth a chance to tiptoe away from the action.

Mano thought it would be an interesting experiment to create a video himself. He doubted anyone would notice a tall, serious looking man in his sixties, who liked to ramble on about teaching and Harry Potter. He didn’t even have a cute animal sidekick.

From his kitchen table, tangled wires and dirty dishes set the scene. He began slowly, sharing random bits about his life, mostly mundane aspects of his day: what he liked for breakfast, his neighbor’s annoying little dog that yapped, the upcoming soccer championship game... Then Mano began to talk about teaching. Paving the way for his students to learn was his sole ambition. For him, teaching was like uncovering lost civilizations. People were buried in their routines so deeply that they needed some outside force to help them discover their inner selves. Finding the right tools to use with each person was his specialty. It was a lot like excavating old buildings.

His village dated from the end of the Roman Empire, and they were always discovering some hidden ruin. He loved to watch the amateur archeologists at work.

On the brink of disappearing, his ancient village needed young people order to survive. Sadly, they seldom stayed after graduation because there were more opportunities in the cities. No one moved in either. After centuries of development, the community was slowly dying. For Mano this was devastating. To him, life in the village seemed positively idyllic, modernity living within the crumbling walls of past civilizations. Why would anyone want to leave that?

Tapping away on her tablet, Angle formed a search query: lost to the Internet and lonely and crowds. Passing down the first couple of search results, because they were just paid propaganda disguised as results. Most were either dating sites or ads for medications that she couldn't pronounce. Further down, she clicked on the link to a video titled, “lostinportugalmano.”

Seen only two times, the video was far from an Internet hit. A man was sitting at a kitchen table with papers strewn everywhere. He was speaking in a foreign language with a sing song cadence. Making a lot of hand gestures, she could kind of understand what he was saying.

Angle didn’t need the translation though, because she could see what he was actually thinking. Nothing profound at first, mostly small meanderings about the state of his apartment and the annoying dog next door. Then his thoughts turned to his work as a teacher. Passionate about his craft, he became totally emotional. She could see his insecurities about finding the right topics to prepare his students for the future. He was totally dedicated to them and his small village.

The video made Angle long to connect with this person. Something about the way he seemed to care beyond the superficial. She felt his struggles and wanted to offer encouragement. But how?

Portugal was too far away to visit, so she would need to find a way to reach him via the Internet. Perhaps the small town had a webpage? Lostinportugalmano talked about a place called A-HI-OLE-LESS. Angle tried that in the search engine. No results were found. Portuuese was a tricky language. Lamely, she tried another spelling. It was unsuccessful too. More than three hours later, she finally found it, Arriolos.

Although the town was small, it had a website. Angle quickly scanned the pages. Of course, it was all in Portuguese! Lost in the pages however was an email address. She quickly clicked on it and typed a message asking about the stranger in the video.

Two weeks passed without an answer. Angle began to fear that this was a dead end. Then one day she received an email from a stranger named Mario. He told her that the man in the video was Mano Reis, a local school teacher. A token triumph, but she needed more information.

Thanks to Mario, Angle now had a name. She quickly googled Mano. Not much came up, just a grainy image and a mention on a student forum. Some of the entries were in English and she could kind of figure out the rest. There was one recent post by Anna about her favorite teacher, Professor Mano. Angle posted a short message: Dear Anna, I saw your teacher, Mano, in a video blog. He seems really cool. I want to do something for him. My email is silentnotstupid@gmail.com.

Seconds later Angle heard a ping in her inbox. LOL, Anna had sent her a message!

Dear Angle, total passion for the prof. He’s the best. What are you thinking about? I have some friends that would totally help.

That would be amazing, wrote Angle. Can we Whatsapp sometime? LOL Angle.

Sure, talk to you on Sunday. We are seven hours ahead so let’s make it early. 10?

Yeah!

On Sunday Angle could barely stay still. She was so stoked. When she dialed in, she was greeted by a large group of kids, all around her age.

Talking to the group, Angle got an idea. “How about a reunion of past students to renew ties with Arriolos?” “Perfect!” said one of the students.“We can look through old newspaper pictures to find the names,” said another. “I can find them online,” said a boy in the back.

The group spent the rest of the call making plans.

No reason to do the school work now, thought Angle after the call. Instead she started to work on a video message for Mano. Lostinnportugalmano had been an anonymous blog post. She wanted everyone to see it and to also see what deep emotions were laying under the surface.

She had an idea, but it would require a lot of editing.

People were so excited to do something special for Professor Mano. Soon the group had tons of people agreeing to come. Random people were also calling and messaging!

On the day of the reunion Angle got up early to whatsapp with the group. The scene was set. In the middle of class, Mano would be called to the office. Then the principal would walk him to the gym. There everyone would be waiting.

When the time arrived, the gym was packed. Mano walked in and stared at the scene. He started to cry as he saw the faces of all the students he had taught over the years.

Angle had been watching it all happen on one of the student’s livestream. When the time came for her video, she totally spassed.

Mano watched the video on the projector screen. How could anyone know those things? The video was of him talking but the images were not of his messy kitchen table. Instead they were pictures of all his hopes and fears for his students. At the part where he was speaking about the future, a lot of students’ faces flashed on the screen the last face he did not recognize. The picture was of a young girl with dark hair and a pencil stuck behind her ear. The caption read: Total fan, Angle.

Who was this Angle?

Then a young girl from his class, named Anna, came forward. She told the assembly the story of how a young girl in America had seen this video on the Internet and had started this whole thing.

Mano was shocked. He needed to meet this girl, who had seen beyond his words and into his heart. He knew this special girl would change his life.

To be conntinued…..