Fine, making friends can’t exactly be compared to the Revolutionary War, but I've always liked that quote, so I jumped on the first opportunity that had any resemblance of relevancy.
Basically I’m talking about that single, decisive moment just before I encounter someone new. I easily spot the stranger from afar and spend the remaining seconds until the dreaded encounter debating my two options:
- Option #1: mesmerize myself in a magazine, the horizon, or a speck of dirt to appear deep in thought, too self-interested and distracted to notice anything else.
- Option #2: a polite nod of acknowledgement, occasionally followed by a whispered “hello” if I’m feeling particularly daring.
Never do I consider greeting a stranger like a normal person. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of, but it's probably related to forced, awkward conversation. I’m surprisingly antisocial, once you get to know me :). But those days are over. Okay, maybe not completely over, but I am ready to ease myself into society. Consider this my long-awaited debutante ball.
My goal this semester is to meet as many new people as I can. Obviously, going to a new country where I don’t know anyone, I am going to make some friends (knock on wood). What I’m really talking about is getting to know the people that could just as easily slip by – the merchant at the Tibetan arts store, the homeless man outside of the subway station, even that intimidating guy with the full body tattoos and piercings.
We don’t need to be best friends, but everyone has something they’re passionate about. I can learn something from all of them - from the Tibetan merchant's favorite Nepalese restaurant in Berkeley to the quality of Colorado's tap water (if you're curious, Colorado's water is top notch, according to the guy with the Air Force shirt). Who knows? Maybe I'll find out that Mr. Tattoo-face did Keith Urban’s ink!
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