Friends... Mint... and... Other Things
When I was a child, I dwelled in a small country abode seated amidst a farm. I thought, at the time, that the edge of the farm was the edge of the entire world. Green was my choicest colour. Not particularly by dint of its exquisiteness, but simply because it was the hue that overwhelmed my immediate horizons.
I grew up and left the farm and discovered that green was not the only colour and that there were people other than my brothers and sisters. Later, I moved to America to study. Before I left I was nervous about the experience. Sitting on the plane, I ruminated: 'Will people over there accept me? Will they like me? Will I find a friend like Bandar, the friend of my childhood?'
When I arrived in Los Angeles, all these questions were still clouding about in my mind. I realized that I had two options: I could hunt out for Saudi students and stay within the girth of the familiar milieu, like the one in which I had spent my entire life, or I could take a risk and try to proffer a handshake into American society.
Something within me did not cotton-up to the idea of taking a risk. You see, farmers, by their nature, don't like risks. My father has been cropping mint for more than fifty years, and has never considered trying anything new.
Albeit, I decided that this time, despite its intricacies, I would negotiate my fears and take the risk. It was as though the farmer inside me had become sick of growing mint. I was settled on opening the cockles of my heart to this new world I found myself in. 'I would speak to everyone I meet' I said in soliloquy fashion, 'regardless of their colour, religion or gender. 'I would smile at every face I saw, even at faces that never smiled'.
I found out that a student called Mitch would be my room-mate. I was perplexed to learn that he was studying music. I knew as much about music as a camel knows about arctic storms. Nonetheless, I decided to be positive, and to nod my head in time, synchronized to the beat of whatever Mitch was playing, as I entered the room.
Surprisingly, everything worked out better than I expected. Mitch quickly accepted me, and we remain friends to date.
When I returned to Riyadh, my friend Bandar was waiting for me at the airport with a big smile. I had come to realize that Mitch and Bandar were two faces of the same person. People are people, regardless of where you find them. Prejudice often dictates the nature of our relationship with a particular person. If we took it upon us to trounce our prejudices, we would find dozens of new friends with every new journey we make. |
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