Query of Enlightenment
On today’s episode of Query of Enlightenment, Jenai shares a personal anecdote. A-hem.
But first, a little back history: Yesterday, my truck broke down in Spokane, WA, leaving me stranded in Cheney with my old college buddies. However, since my college buddies all have classes on a Monday, I was left to my own devices– devices which found me at an old hang-out, the Artist Cafe. It’s a small luncheon or dinner cafe with a Philipino menu and Thai or Tailand beverages, and a small market.
Basically, I wanted to have lunch there before I take off again, possibly to never return. That, and I wanted to pick up some of my favorite Adobo mix, etc. at the adjacent international market. Low and behold, they were out of the ingredients I was seeking. I they have NEVER been out before. Since this was such a letdown, the women offered to order and ship the items to me at no extra charge. I guess since I told them that the international market in Idaho doesn’t carry them either, they wanted to treat me special. Anyway, I would rather patronize my old hang-out due to unwavering loyalty (also known as nostalgia.) They of course are more than happy to send me what I asked for, as I am more than happy to pay them for it. (Plus, I make a point to stop in there whenever I travel though town– broken truck or not.) ^_^
Well, this brings me back to the point of this blog-quicky. While I was eating my lunch (the Special: Dim Sum Platter with fruit slices and a tall tangerine flavored energy drink) I ended up talking with the owner about where I was living now, and what my plans were. Since they recognise me, the conversation began organically. It was a very casual conversation that turned into another one of those movie moments, where I start to look for the candid cameras. She asked me, “How young are you?” I said 24. She commented, “So young still! Do you have a boyfriend still here?”
I laughed at her question, “oh, no. I don’t have time for that!” She gave me a look of mock-shock, responding, “Well, I’m surprised at you… but it so good that you are serious about your future. So many women and girlfriends of men want only one thing, a ring on thier fingers! They just want to get married! Now, I don’t want to play match-maker… but you know, my nephew is only 26-years-old, and all ready he’s a doctor! You should meet him, he’s so smart! He had many girlfriends that were too impatient and wanted to only get married to him without thinking about their own futures. But he was so busy to become a doctor that he couldn’t just marry them! It would be too soon! He wanted them to wait for him. Eventually they broke up, but I’m not trying to play match-maker!” Then she grabbed his graduation photo with his doctor’s degree, and a packaged doctor’s white jacket with his name to prove to me that her nephew was indeed a 26-year-old doctor. Now, I know my mother does crazy things like this to people I’ve never met, and I’ve always felt mortified to hear about it. I was half wondering how this woman’s nephew felt about it. I get embarrased just hearing that Mom talks about me a lot with people I do know, so conversations with strangers is almost too much! Or at least, I thought it was.
Next the woman told me her nephew’s life’s story: how he taught himself to read at the age of 2, and proved it to his family by reading the nametags of professionals and greeting them by name in a hotel elevator. She said that she always knew how smart he was, even before he would test higher than everyone in his class, and become magnum cum laude with an astronomical I.Q.
As I listen to this woman pour her heart out about her nephew, I realized how enchanted I was to hear about him. He was a very nice looking man, not that I was letting her be match-maker or anything, (he’s 6′2″, by the way…). It’s true that what made me think about my own life in this situation was the fact that my mom talks about me in this same manner. It’s not that she’s a walking advertisement of my desireable attributes. It’s just that some women take so much pride in their children, neices, and nephews, that it’s hard not to boast of their good qualities. Not that mine are anything compared to Omar’s (the 26-year-old doctor’s), but I realized that the very thing that embarrased me about my mother was lifting my spirits in small-town Cheney, WA. Despite being stranded in my old college town, with all my old friends in class, and me, dining alone, I was by no means lonely. I was learning about the beauty of a perfect stranger’s life. And I was happy to hear about it. I loved hearing about this woman’s nephew. I had a very comfortable lunch listening to her tell me about how Omar “will one day meet the woman God intended for him, and maybe he just needs a woman who is not impatient but can wait to get married…” someone like me, (not that she’s match-making, or anything.)
I don’t know, I suddenly have different feelings about my mother, thanks to this stupid coincidence. I think that maybe next time I hear that my mom just praised me in front of a perfect stranger, I won’t be so humiliated. Maybe that stranger will enjoy hearing how proud my mom is. Maybe he or she will just appreciate hearing about what I have accomplished in that same way people enjoy watching the characters in a movie accomplish small feats of life. I mean, my life isn’t so different from a sitcom or t.v. drama– I wake up, get into all kinds of shinanigans, pause for commercial breaks, solve my problems, brush my teeth, and go to sleep, only to wake up and repeat– just like everyone else.
Anyway, I just wanted to blog what happened today. It was oddly refreshing, in an independant films kind of way. I felt like that world traveler stranded in her home country, talking with international people about their smart children and their desire to have me meet them one day, not that they’re trying to play match-maker, or anything. I would love to meet Omar in the future. Not to be introduced to him as a prospective girlfriend… but just to see for myself what makes the women at the Artist Cafe glow with pride. And I want to meet all the people I’ve never met who had heard my mother’s endless speeches about me and my travels and writing– not to prove that my mother told them the truth, but so that they can see the physical manifestation of my mother’s pride, and me see the people who might have been influenced by a simple story about me.
Is that so strange?
