A Friend of a Friend

Some friends from Sudan

Our friend, Mohamed*, called us from Sudan.  John tried his best to understand all that Mohamed was saying.  You see, Mohamed, not only speaks in Arabic, but he speaks fast and has his own type of accent that even our Arabic-speaking friends can’t quite make out.

It seems that Mohamed was very happy to tell us that a friend of his was in our city and would like to see us.  

Now you may ask, “Do you know this friend?” To which we would say, “No.”

“Then why would you meet with a stranger?”

“Because he’s Mohamed’s friend and this is as close as Mohamed can get to seeing us.”

So John gets the friend’s number, thanks Mohamed and then asks me when we could have him over.  I checked our calendar and told him anytime over the weekend.

John called the friend and explained who he was.  The friend returned the warm greeting and began chatting with John as if they were long lost relatives.  No one found this unusual or the least bit strange.  John then invites this perfect stranger to our home and the date is set.

I made brownies (all our local friends love these) and prepared mango juice.  (Tea is only served right before you are ready for them to leave.  Serving it too early can indicate you are displeased with them and are cutting the visit short.)

Yusef** arrived and sat with John chatting while nibbling on the prepared brownies.  He told John that he is a granite worker and then said, “If you need anything made from granite, you tell me.  I will make it for you.”  (Our city is actually built in and around granite. They use it to pave the sidewalks here!)  I overheard what he said and immediately began scanning the house for future granite projects.  Rats.  I can’t think of anything.

They talked about families and how this man knew Mohamed.  Yusef went back as far as 5 generations in explaining the connection.  John lost track after the third grandma.

Yusef finished his juice and then stood to his feet.  He had to go, but thanked John profusely for meeting him.  They promised to meet again and a friendship was born.

Mohamed then called John to ask if they’d had a good visit.  John assured him that they did.  Mohamed was very happy.  I call it Friendship by Proxy.  Here they call it, “Normal Life.”  

We made a new friend…a granite-carving one to boot.  I guess it makes me reexamine how relationships are formed or even how I allow them room to form.  Food for thought.

Now how about a granite-carved toilet seat?

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*This is his real name.  There are many Mohameds.  I'm not really worried about his identification.
**Not his real name.