As a white girl with blonde hair, I stick out. Well, in the States I don’t. But in Asia, as a whole, I do not look like a local. [However, I was less out of place in Kazakhstan & Kyrgyzstan. I was asked more than once if I was Russian. Okay okay, I’ll take it! Haha]
Very frequently, whether in traveling or day to day I am asked this simple question,
Where are you from?
I was thinking about the simplicity of this question, and it’s a small talk question. It can stop there, or the conversation can evolve into something more.
I want to share about a couple times over this past month when that question was asked of me and turned into significant memories and conversations.
Nazareth, Israel
It’s our first day and night in this city. We arrived and were immediately thrown into the ministry we were put into contact with [a completely separate and crazy God ordained story for another time]. About 3 hours later we are at the incredibly beautiful flat we will be residing at for five days. I wish to go to the grocery store for yogurt and fruit; //sidenote grocery shopping has become a favorite thing of mine in each country. I knew this previously, but I love it all the more now.//
Two of my teammates join me in our search for the grocery store. After a 15 minute walk down the wrong way down the roundabout, we find what two of us spotted as a store earlier, marked by the produce sitting outside.
We walk in and are welcomed by boxes and boxes of fruit. Also ready to greet us is an older man, a young man in his 20s and a young lady in her 20s. I feel brave enough to say hello in Arabic and they respond with massive smiles and hellos. We are the only customers in the small store. I see the cooler with what appears to be dairy products.
Searching for yogurt has been something I search for intently. Granted, I can’t read the languge of where we have been, so I use my discerning eye of the countless trips to the store. I can usually tell by pictures on the food item, comparing the wording and such between items and the arrangement in the cooler what might be yogurt. I have had success in the past few months, so this shouldn’t be too hard!
After 5-10 minutes of comparison, I am nearly confident what I have in my hand is yogurt. But I’m not sure. SO I ask the older man if what I have in my hand is yogurt. Nope. He proceeds in his broken English to try his best to explain what it is and points out the yogurt. As well as milk [because I remembered the word in arabic for milk and felt brave and comfortable to ask].
I like this man already.
We are checking out and paying for our items when he asks the burning question, “Where are you from?” Just minutes later he is facetiming his daughter and says “she speaks English” and shows us to her. She is shy [as I would be too as a 4 or 5 year old being shown to a stranger to say hello] and disappears from the phone screen. I immediately bond with this girl because I am reminded of my neice-not-neice* in the States. [*daughter of my mentors and she’s done the same thing in facetiming me] No longer feeling like a stranger to this father and daughter, I ask their names. I had no idea what began as a want for yogurt and fruit would turn into one of my most treasured moments from these past 8 months. 🙂
Train from Baku, Azerbaijan, to Tbilisi, Georgia
We board a train bound to Tbilisi and this train ride will be only 14 hours! After over 100 hours of travel just days earlier, this train ride would be a piece of cake. I am crazy I know! Hahaha
With air conditioning and a sleeper bed, this leg of the journey is greeted with a thankful heart. Oh how my travel experiences have been vast and many. Haha
We board the train, find our beds, situate our backpacks and wait. We are spread out, so there are beds and seats for other local travelers. A couple of my seat buddies end up being a mom and her daughter [5 years old I think]. Yes, yes, you know me well if you say “ohh Andrea must have been so happy!” You would be correct. Haha! I said hello to them and they were friendly and welcoming. The question came almost immediately, followed by sharing of food, little games with her daughter and many smiles and laughs.
When we arrived to Tbilisi and were gathering our belongings we said goodbye and I was not expecting what came next. The girl [sweet girl who again, reminded me of my neice-not-neice] said “Mom can she come with us? I will miss her.” Oh my heart! I said if I’m ever in Baku again, I will come find them. 🙂 I gave the girl hugs and said goodbye to both of them.
Tbilisi, Georgia
One afternoon during our almost week in the city, Kate and I are walking from a coffee shop back to our hostel. Chatting about who knows what, we walk along and here a man, whom we’ve passed, say something along the lines of “Are you speaking English?” We both turn and I immediately ask “Are you from the states?” Of all the English we hear when walking it’s easy to distinguish between a native speaker and a second language speaker. I don’t think I realized until this interaction the distinction my ears pick up automatically.
I don’t remember if he asked the question or I did first, but our interaction began with the question. Also the question of “What are you doing in Georgia?” “Oh just passing through.”
>> To us, this life of moving and travelling, living out of a backpack for 8 months, this is our life. It’s normal. Passing through a city/country halfway across the world is our normal. So when we casually said, “We’re passing through” interest was sparked and thus commenced a meeting I won’t quickly forget.
The man [I would guess in his late 50s or so] proceeded to share that he’d done Peace Corps in Georgia and was now working here.
He was mega interested in what we were doing, I asked what his projects were here and none of us felt rushed to leave, so we continued to talk.
As I could sense our conversation was coming to an end, I felt the desire to pray for him. I don’t usually feel the desire to pray for someone after a brief interaction, just because I believe Papa shows his love through me in conversation without prayer, and I don’t want to make it religious. I really felt Holy Spirit cheer me on and say “yes, pray for him! Just ask.” “Okay, how do I ask, I don’t want it to come off as religious or awkward.” “I’ll tell you.”
I ask if we can bless him, pray for him. He says “What?” but in a tone that is pleasantly surprised. I ask again and he says “yeah of course.” He puts his arm around me and I do the same- he has a father’s heart and I could feel it in the conversation and side hug.
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All three of these interactions were not expected.
In all three instances I was not expecting a long conversation or meaningful connection, but that is exactly what happened.
I was not looking for these people, but simultaneously I was. I was open to the interaction and conversation that would follow the infamous question.
It’s probably safe to say I have been asked this question close to a hundred times. I don’t keep track of how many times a month I am asked, but it is a frequent conversation starter.
So, how can I take this home? How will I take these moments, that have been imprinted upon my memory and heart, and let them influence how I live life once I’m back in the States?
All this traveling around, is my normal now. It’s been my normal for 8 months. How difficult will it be to transition back into stationary life?
How can I let the experiences I have had influence a stationary life?
Maybe it’s walking into normal circumstances being open and willing to let the conversation evolve. Let it flow. Let conversation flow. Be friendly. Be loving. Be willing to share. Slow down. Don’t be in a rush.
Hmm…all these places we travel through, all the people we meet, I hope it’s worth it.
I value relationship and getting to know others. It’s difficult when we are moving around and in a place for a constrained amount of time. BUT the constrained amount of time, I believe may be helping me make the most of small interactions, like the three I shared above. Hmm..
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