This is too wacky not to share with the internet, given that it was the internet that caused it. A few hours ago, I received an email from a woman who lives in Abu Dhabi (that’s in the Middle East, for you geographically-challenged). Sifting through the Kuwait forums on orkut (which I haven’t touched in ages thanks to New Orleans-related work and MySpace), she came across my profile and remembered me as the girl who acted in a middle school play alongside her little sister back in 1987.
“Did you act in Othello with Seema?”
It was the Taming of the Shrew, but … nineteen years later, someone who watched me in her kid sister’s school play, all of us in full costume and makeup, remembers me enough to ask if I was the Maitri who lived in Kuwait and attended school in the same area.
Now for the true punch: Seema and I loved Wham! in middle school. Listening to an old George Michael song a few days ago, I thought of her, smiled and wondered what she is up to. Coincidence? I think not!
The phrase “small world” is misused and abused in this country. If you meet someone who knows someone who knows your brother and all of you live in Greater Metro New Orleans, it’s not a small world, it’s a small city. When you live in New Orleans and your bartender’s best friend went to school with one of your best friends in Illinois, it’s a small country, not a small world.
An email from a woman in Abu Dhabi who stumbles across you online and informs you that your old friend, her sister, now lives and works in Kerala (southern India) … that constitutes a small world.
And, now, to annoy one and all (because the stupid song is stuck in my head and you must suffer with me), I give you:
It’s a world of laughter
A world of tears
It’s a world of hopes
And a world of fears
There’s so much that we share
That it’s time we’re aware
It’s a small world after all