I recently had the good fortune of visiting the world-famous Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, commonly known as “The Met”, a must-see for anybody visiting the Big Apple. As I walked towards the building, its imposing facade with towering columns came into full view. This itself was a sight to behold and seemed like a preview of what was in store. People of all ages, wearing diverse attire, were sitting on its grand front steps that led to the wide porch. The street was a beehive of activity with taxis, hawkers, pushcarts, food trucks, and street performers.

Making my way through the door, I marvelled at the soaring space of the entrance hall with its vaulted domes. The long line for tickets was discouraging but melted faster than ice cream on a hot summer day, and I was ready to feast my eyes on the art collections the museum held. I was forewarned that with The Met being so massive, one was better off making a plan before visiting its colossal galleries. So, like a good student, I studied the visitor guide given to me with the ticket.

Docents are volunteer guides in museums who help visitors understand and enjoy art. I learnt from the guide that there was a docent-led tour of impressionist paintings later that afternoon. Being a fan of impressionism, I showed up at the appointed hour, as we were asked to assemble in a designated area of the building. Our docent that day was an elderly lady who disclosed that she was 80 years old and had been volunteering as a docent for 50 years. She looked remarkably fit and prim for her age. Let’s call her Laura. There were 25 of us in the group, and Laura said this was a record, for no group she had led had ever been this large. All of us clapped in appreciation.

The impressionist collections were in rooms two floors above where we had assembled and she asked us to walk behind her in a single file through two narrow escalators. After we stepped off the second escalator, we paused to regroup and await further directions from her. Somebody in the group exclaimed, “Where is Laura?” as she was nowhere to be seen. Questions like “Where did she go?” and “Did you see her?” swarmed the gathering. Search parties comprising three or four people were instantly formed and they headed in different directions to trace Laura.

Likely places such as the rooms with European collections and even the restrooms all drew a blank. It seemed like Laura had vanished into thin air. Enquiries with museum officials did not help as they said docents were independent volunteers and they did not have their contact details. I only hope Laura did not face a health issue that day and is alive and well. The hiccup did not dampen my spirits. If anything, it was an occasion to have a good laugh at myself. I continued my exploration of the stunning art exhibits in the museum on my own.

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