Day Hundred Twelve

Returning 

confidently to the workplace 

where the shift starts easy 
and gradually gets a little busy.

I can see in myself

and through the responsive vibes

of customers

and coworkers 

that I'm doing something right.

There are of course, 

some people who like to enjoy their meal 
without any further interaction.

This is how I thought 
the old Finish couple wanted to enjoy theirs.

Yet I kept returning to their table,

to ask where they are from

or to serve them strawberry margaritas.

The lady then suddenly removes her sombrero 
and gives her phone to her husband. 
She opens her arm and I reach to ask how I can help.

She drags me into her arms and holds me for a picture. 
I become so overwhelmed as we share 
a love- filled moment of non-verbal affection.

The day continues with more 
fun Scandinavians and Russians coming in.

At some point a Brazilian- looking woman arrives 
with her family of husband and  two sons.

I ask if she is Brazilian, 

as last night a Brazilian woman had said I look Brazilian.

She tells me she's from Palestine.

A bell rings in my head

'Do you speak Arabic?'

'Of course!'

'Ana kaman [me too]'

'Walla! Mn wein nti? [Really! Where are you from?']

I explain I am from Cyprus 
but was in Lebanon and spent time in Shatila. 
She is a bit shocked. 
She tells me 
she has friends there 
and that it's an unsafe environment for them. 
I tell her 
I agree and that even politically 
what's happening is terrible. 
But that the people there are very, very loving. 

We share a compassionate blink

and I proceed to take orders.

I feel the conversation hasn't been completed

and I wish I could speak Arabic for longer.

I'm carrying drinks

thinking of this crazy coincidence

and where I was

and where I am

and that this coincidence should appear like that

on a Wednesday;

a Shatila day.