friends or strangers?

Hannah is getting to the age where we needed to have the stranger conversation. Especially before we travelled through the airport last week, i wanted to make sure she was reminded about people talking to her she doesn't know. That's difficult to avoid, as many people do offer to help when i'm by myself travelling, and many people do like children. But nevertheless, we set some ground rules. So you can imagine she was somewhat confused when I approached people along the way we didn't "know."

In the Atlanta airport, there is an older Ethiopian woman who works in one of the terminal food courts. 3 yrs ago Hannah and I passed through there, we got stuck for 8 hrs. She was such a help to me, and every time we have the opportunity, we see her. Patrick has also stopped by, in my place. It means so much to her that we've made the effort to do that. She was just thrilled, and hugged me and the kids repeatedly, expressing excitement about the new one. Like many immigrants, if there's one Senegalese, there's probably more. The Atlanta Bread Company in the airport has always had Senegalese workers, and this time was no exception. I hadn't met these ones yet, but we talked anyways. There's another Senegalese man who works in a Dean and Deluca in Charlotte, and I met him a few years ago. He always tells me to come by and see his family, that his wife will cook for me.

While in the airport, I saw a group of people looking lost. A man and 2 women, both wearing pagnes, or wrap skirts in bright, colorful fabrics. As we were waiting for the elevator, they stopped in front of me, one woman unwrapping her skirt and retying, but still discreetly, however they manage to do that! It made me so nostalgic. I knew they weren't Senegalese so I didn't approach them, but the man tried to get my attention to ask how to get to the baggage claim. I found it for him, then asked where they were from. Like every immigrant does, he told me Arizona or some such place, until I asked where he was from originally. He said the Congo, and I told him why I was asking. His entire countenance and demeanor completely changed. His face broke into this huge smile, he grabbed my hand and made a traditional african handshake, introduced me to his companions, and asked after my family. I expressed regret that we needed to get to our next plane, and after enthusiastically wishing God's blessing on me, we went on our separate ways.

 Hannah could tell there was something different between me and this "stranger." She was concerned that I was acting so friendly to someone I'd never met before. I got down to her level to look in her 3 yr old eyes and wondered how i can communicate these important truths to her. What makes a friend? How important that handshake was to that man. How important it is to go out of your way to help people who are new to our country, who can't read signs or the money or anything. How so many people have helped me in so many countries. And what it means to someone to establish a connection with them, no matter how small, when they are in such a situation. I can never imagine what those folks have been through before they left their country, or how they made it to mine. I wish I could have done more for them. But maybe it didn't happen for them, maybe it happened for my little girl to start seeing opportunities, and start learning more about the big world in which she lives, and what she can do to be a part of it, to love the people in it.

In looking for a picture to illustrate my rambling story, i stumbled upon this interesting blogpost. if you have any connection to africa, you should definitely read it. i just copied this one paragraph, which i thought was funny and very apt!

http://awoliam.blogspot.com/2009/12/guide-to-african-handshake.html

"If you aren’t good at, or are in any way averse to, shaking hands then perhaps Africa isn’t for you. If you have a fear of regular and repeated hand contact with complete strangers, stay clear. It’s not only the plentiful quantity; the sheer number of handshake variations can lead to confusion and an awkward beginning. Like dancing, if you don’t know the moves, you’ll end up uncoordinatedly fumbling and fondling rather than achieving the desired, well timed embrace. . .

If you’re a computer game-player, perhaps it would help to think of it as a “combo” of smaller handshakes, resulting in a more effective, killer, finishing-move handshake! POW: FRIENDS NOW!"