Nam myoho renge kyo

    A long time ago, probably in 1987, I was on a train. The train was from some point in Germany, possibly Cologne, to Copenhagen. (Or Koln to Kobenhavn, but you have to provide your own umlaut and backslash.) I was buttonholed by another American, though he was expatriate. I have some recollection that this happened even before we were on the train. He was named Charles. He was accompanied by a conspicuously beautiful young woman whose name I forget. I have it in a diary somewhere, but I forget where the diary is, too.
    Charles wanted to tell me about the Nichiren Buddhists. (Later they were called NSA Buddhists, and now apparently SGI Buddhists. CGI Buddhists are just seen in "The Matrix.") They're the ones who chant Nam myoho renge kyo. Charles most likely picked me out partly because I was alone and mostly because of the thick glasses, as that was his selling point. He told me that he had once worn similar glasses, but through constant chanting, he had returned his eyes to normal. He also said I was legally blind in at least 14 countries, which I can well believe. He gave me a Nam myoho renge kyo card, which I probably still have somewhere. I didn't exactly tell him to buzz off, but showed no sign of joining up on the spot, or indeed ever. However, we rode to Copenhagen together.
    The beautiful companion lived in Copenhagen, but was actually from Stockholm or Oslo. (Hey, it was a long time ago!) She helped me a lot more than Charles did. I left Penn when I decided I wanted to study International Relations, and I decided that when I got stuck on one question: Does every human have to have an enemy? (It was the Cold War, man; it seemed like life and death at the time.) I asked her, and she said she didn't have any enemy; apparently Russian tanks seemed less scary the closer you got to them.
    I also mentioned at some point that I like Drambuie. She got me a little bottle of it. I don't think it was part of the Nichiren sales job, nor that she was overwhelmed by my charm. I think she was just really nice. I still have that, too.