THE BRIDGE OF FAITH

Take  One

Once upon a time there were two teen-age girls, both foreigners in the land of Jinnah.  They played, they teased, they both grew up together in a special playground of diplomat’s elite.

They parted ways with adventures ahead, amassed experiences, and eventually settled in different lands continually labeled as expatriates.  Their families grown, it seemed and deemed that the childhood playmate in a distant time was lost forever.

Until the advent of social media, the group admin for unknown reasons, invited me to re-connect with long-lost  ex-catholic convent school girls who hop-scotched in the playground at the  heart of an Islamic enclave. 

Yes, we were challenged then.

As I scrolled down the myriad of hundreds of daily text messages; some read - some passed me by until the city of Melbourne stood out. This is where my friend lives.

                      

and

I was going there.

A scurry of text messages exchanged and miraculously before long, I was sitting across the sofa sipping a cuppucino with my school mate; desperately trying to encapsulate 50 years into two hours.   You would think it would have been an impossible task; between bites of sushi and slurps of coffee; the heartbreaks, the success, the incredible role of motherhood; and the façade of our characters stripped bare. In that moment  we stood still at fourteen, understanding in the receiving and giving of our friendship so long ago and still very intact, strong and immovable.

I have learned something valuable today.

Take-two

Once upon a time two little girls of Asian disposition in the land of durian and chopsticks could not be in more contrast when questioned, answered in polite British Queen’s English to a confused native of anyone’s land.  They were the products of elite diplomats; determined that the children must immerse  in culture, language and history of the old established British Empire they admired.

Well, they did not realize in parenting these two girls in the pink cloud of the hoity-toity world of Britain, we slowly but surely lost our heritage, deeming it ineffectual in our chosen daily life.

Our meeting in Melbourne over wine, beer and excitement united what we thought, felt and left unsaid.  However difficult the road our parents paved the way,  however scrambled, misfired or plain afterthought; we emerged strong, with a solid core, a love of realism and a struggle worth fighting for.  I saw in her, reflections of myself and now no longer feel alone.

I have learned another valuable lesson today.