I'm visiting my Winter Palace for a week, and took a taxi home from the airport yesterday afternoon. The taxi driver took a personal phone call during the drive, and when he finished I politely asked him where he was from. I could tell that he was uncomfortable with the question, but finally said "the Middle East".
"Ah", I said. "I thought that was Arabic you were speaking. Where in the Middle East are you from?"
"Cairo, Egypt", the man replied. "I've been in America for one year".
Once he figured out that I wasn't trying to assertain if he was a terrorist, he started talking about himself. He came here mainly for his children, he said. Life for a Christian (Coptic) in Egypt is very difficult, and hard to keep a job. He was a chemist (pharmacist) there, and hadn't yet found the same type of job in the U.S., but he was grateful for being here all the same.
It reminded me of other taxi rides I've taken. Like the old man in Kingston, Jamaica that offered to marry me and bring me to live on his coffee farm in the Blue Mountains. Or the driver in Jordan who, when he heard I was from Texas, told me he was a Palestinian who only wanted peace, and could I tell George Bush that? I told him I would, next time I saw him.
People are very interesting if you take the time to ask who they are.
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