𝗛𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗜𝘀

Our member Ms M. Sen has shared an experience which has touched her heart.
Back in 2001 my family and I were visiting Paris. As dusk descended, we started walking along the riverbank. Eventually we got hungry. We spotted a Vietnamese restaurant and decided to have dinner. A charming Vietnamese lady ushered us in with a beaming smile, but she spoke in French, leaving us a bit confused. She then called a young waiter who took us to our table. Although a bit shy, he spoke in an impromptu blend of French and English. My husband asked him his name. He responded in a soft voice: 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘶𝘯 𝘒𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘳. We were intrigued. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮? He hesitated and responded: 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘩. I seized the opportunity and asked him: 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘪? It was as if he had been awakened from a dream. Yes, he replied. In that instant Paris became a global village. It had been ages since Humayun had left Bangladesh and hearing Bengali after such a long time moved him to tears. He helped us select dishes that seemed closer to our Bengali palate. He even took it upon himself to bring us assorted delectable pastries, just to make our experience more memorable. Humayun may have moved away from home, but he hadn’t forgotten his roots.
In 2006, we met Pa-Peter in Bali, Indonesia. He managed the resort 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢. Pa-Peter had left Germany 30 years ago and had settled in Bali after marrying a local girl. After his wife had passed away, he stayed on. He was now 82 and Bali meant everything to him. I asked him: 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦? Pa-Peter looked up to the sky, searching for an answer and responded with a lump in his throat: 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘎𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘦. I still wonder: 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘗𝘢-𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦?