Life and Times of a World Viewer

I stood among the foods with foreign names that my now foreign tongue could not pronounce. I watched the women pass by, wrapped in their culture; faceless beings covered to shield them from society.

I wondered what they thought as they placed their identities into complete submission every morning before leaving their house. Were they aware of another world where women wore little to nothing to pick up milk and eggs? Did they bemoan their fate to live in this society?

What did I know? I could barely keep my hijab from falling off my blond head. they passed by in utter contentment of their position. But, y own confused and wary. there's was a culture i neither understood, nor agreed with. How could i wrap myself in cloaks of black and blend in? Why were they so complacent.?

As I moved along the aisles, i felt the wind of the air conditioner upon my neck. For the millionth time i stopped to try and readjust my covering.

She materialized out of nothing. Slender hands and bright eyes. She took the ends of my hijab in her hands and rapidly fit it snugly around my head. She produced pins from her own head and securely tied my hijab. I was certain she was smiling underneath her veil, but i knew i would never know for sure.

As she moved along wordlessly, i realized that we exist in a global community, and part of this means understanding the differences while embracing them. She did not know me, and i did not know her. She saw a foreigner in need and was probably aware of what i thought about their traditions.

But she helped me adjust into a culture i did not know about, could i say i would have done the same?