BBQ Man

No matter how many differences in the definition of politeness, or how many times I get to be the victim of the "hello" joke (which never seems to cease to be amusing), it really is the people that makes me want to stay in this country. The kind of people I meet everyday standing behind the checkout in the shops, handing me oranges from their baskets, stopping to say a few words to me in the street...

A good example is this little man, who brings out his barbecue stall as the evening falls, and spreads out little skewers of veg, tofu, mushrooms and meat. We went to buy a few things a couple of weeks back, and he treated us like state-level guests. Going back yesterday, he greeted us from far away, very proudly announcing to other customers that we were old friends. And while he was grilling the potatoes and mushrooms, he kept chattering away in his dialect, asking me questions of this and that. And not forgetting every now and then to explain to people around something about who we were, and that we knew each other.

Walking away with a box of yummy BBQ, I couldn't help but smiling to myself. With his warmth this little man just made my day and made me once again feel welcome here, no matter all the differences that sometimes drive me up the wall. After all, it's a home for both of us.