I noticed the farmers tucked under their fold-up tables at the market near our apartment on Fridays. One couple I assume to be a father and daughter dress in Amish attire. What is their story? I walked by an old man fishing at a nearby park. He sat in a chair perched near the water's edge. I don't know much about fishing. There is a travel story there. Destination? Park. Experience? Fisherman. Places provide a setting. People provide the beauty and depth of human difference and connection.
Anyways, I do have a travel story to share. Last weekend, Greg and Yangping, his friend from China, had their first soccer game. After leaving the field, Yangping and his roommate had us over for dinner. Stepping into their two-bedroom apartment located close to Syracuse University's campus provided a new travel adventure.
Yangping sat us down on their one piece of furniture, a small black couch leftover from the previous renters, and handed us his laptop. He told us to do whatever we wanted while he cooked. No matter how many times we asked if he needed help, he insisted we sit and relax. After awhile, Yangping and his roommate who is also from China (I don't to spell his name in case I get it wrong) had prepared a bowl of cut potatoes, beef and broccoli, chicken, and bowls of white rice. They gave us the only two bowls they had, and they used tupperware. The food was spicy and fantastic. Over and over, the two of them insisted we eat as much as we wanted. We talked about China. We talked about the States. We shared stories. We asked questions. We learned from each other. We shared in the beauty of those human differences and connections.
