July 29, 2009.

I went to get lunch today at an on-campus burger stand. When I ordered and waited for it to be cooked, this old lady sitting across from me asked, “Are you Chinese?” I told her no, and that I was a filipino. She then started to talk to me in tagalog. She’s a tourist, and it was her first time at Stanford. She said that she asked if I was Chinese because she saw a lot of Chinese people on campus. Haha.

Well after the customary dialogue: Where are you from, What do your parents do, How old are you, What are you studying… she invited herself over to the table I was sitting at.

Then my burger came, and she told me she was tired. I assumed she meant tired of walking around all day. I asked her if she missed the Philippines. She said yes, because it’s been 47 years since she’s been back “home.” And I just thought to myself that it was very admirable that she could be away for a place for almost five decades and still call that place Home. Hell, I haven’t moved out of the Nimitz house for more than three years and no way is that place home anymore. She said she couldn’t even remember thre streets she lived on, the way the houses looked, or what her room was like. She just showed such a connection to her culture; distance and time away wasn’t relevant. She told me, “Love, family, and friends will connect you and keep you attached regardless how far you are or how long it’s been.”

I had finished my burger already and took her hand to my forehead, and she said, “May God be with you.”

I put on my backpack, gave her a smile, and left. When I turned my head to see if she was still there, she was already gone.

“There is no such thing as strangers; only friends you have yet to meet.”