The African Man

The music was blasting from unseen speakers as I took in my surroundings. From the street I was walking on, a small store had caught my attention. Stepping over the threshold into the store was like entering into another world. Warm, brown walls brought together a room full of objects on shelves that represented a whole culture. Two small racks of African garb hung limp in the center of the store as tables covered with authentic merchandise hugged the walls on which jewelry waited to be admired. Yet the most alluring aspect of the quaint store were the masks staring back at me; so much depth to them, despite their hollow eyes. The only thing that was capable of pulling my attention away from their stare was the charismatic owner that greeted me as soon as I stepped foot past the wide open doors.

Quick to start a conversation, he soon noticed my fascination for the masks adorning the wall. "Not just masks. Each one has meaning." He smiled and continued to talk enthusiastically of such backgrounds and the secrets behind the masks' empty eyes. Yet I soon discovered that he too held past secrets, much like his masks. Behind his warm welcoming eyes lingered that past, a far off expression that hinted at the long winters he once endured.

"What is life like in your country compared to the States?" To my surprise, his story followed an optimistic view of life, despite the sadness that lingered in his far-off gaze. The man told me stories of his home country and how, although Africa is not economically thriving, their sincere hospitality makes their communities welcoming and have a different sense of richness. I could even see that good-hearted richness in the man standing before me. Not there to make money but to share his culture in a world with no one true culture at all.

Before leaving the store I took in the warm feeling of home, of family. Here in my big, fast-paced city was a piece of a much smaller community of Africa and I could not help thinking that this was someone from a completely different country that I just made a connection with; a conversation he made out of kindness had so much more meaning. Such a simple conversation changed my view of how shallow our culture truly is and how everything surrounds money. Yet the only way we can truly gain a sense of richness is experiencing the world, even if the only way to do so is to travel to the little piece of culture sitting on our own corner.