An evening in a church basement. Tealights on tables attempt to cheer up the unatmospheric room. Less than 30 people present, nobody
very interesting-looking to my jaded eyes.
Cynical and introverted as
usual, I choose a seat at a distance from everybody else and prepare to
just observe for a while and then go home -
- but a
guy from Honduras gives me a kind smile and I take a deep breath and
start a conversation. From there on, I talk about gyms and prisons and
Irish valleys with the pastor, laugh with some Ghanaian girls about their terrible teacher who happens to be my brother-in-law,
try on somebody else's earrings, and discover that in this nondescript
Finnish town there is a girl from St. Louis, Missouri, who wants to
discuss linguistics.
At the end of the evening, instead of being long gone, I help clear away the burnt-out tealights.
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