Strangers are great. There’s something that happens when I meet someone new. You smile and make good conversation. The type that’s about absolutely everything, and yet about nothing at all. Light bulbs turn on. Soon though, as people try to place me, the conversation turns to where I’m from.
“Do you go to school here?”
“No, I went to school in Georgia.”
‘Click’, a light bulb turns off. I say Georgia but they hear “the south”.
“Oh, so you’re from Georgia then?”
“No actually, I’m from Pakistan.”
‘Click’, another light bulb turns off. Pakistan, India’s unexotic evil twin.
“No, but where did you grow up?”
“Well, I grew up in Saudi Arabia.”
‘Click’, another light bulb turns off. I really should learn to say the Middle East, but I haven’t the heart.
“You’re English is very Good.”
“Why yes it is. Thank you.”
Meeting new people is super and given the chance I’m quick to turn those light bulbs back on. But sometimes it occurs to me that I’m from all the wrong places. I leave an empty spot in the minds of people I meet and it's up to me to fill the picture.
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