Was minding my own business when two elderly ladies waiting in front of me in the queue struck up a conversation.

“Where are your companions?” they asked.

I responded that my wife and kids went to check out the play area. And that was enough for us to continue chatting. I showed them pictures of the kids; they shared about their personal lives. I mentioned certain things about my job as a teacher; they asked me if I knew Kumamoto dialect. Our conversation flowed smoothly like a gulp of my beloved Otokoyama sake down my expectant throat, notwithstanding my rusty Japanese oral skills.

Their names were first called, and I thought that was the end of our encounter. Little did I expect that they would come over after their meal to say hi to the family and bid farewell to me. One of them even complimented me in front of the wifey. “Subarashii (Magnificent),” she gushed.

Our encounter was brief and fleeting, but it left a big impact on me. It reminded me of my passion for travelling. To meet people who are different from me, to locate the universality amidst our diverse experiences, and to have a heart-to-heart / 将心比心 / 以心伝心 interaction that transcends cultural barriers.