Chance Encounter

Years ago, my friend Jan spent her summer exploring South Africa. One afternoon, out in a dusty township far from Johannesburg, a local struck up a friendly conversation with the tall blonde who had just walked into his cafe.

"So you are from America?" he inquired. He knew the answer of course. For better or worse, we're not that hard to pick out.

"Yes, I am. Just traveling for a few weeks," she replied.

"I know someone from America."

"Really? That's cool."

"Where are you from? Maybe you've met him."

Jan swears she was able to keep a straight face, but seriously now... there are three hundred million people in the US and this bloke wonders if she's knows the same one. What are the odds, right? She played along to be polite, "Wisconsin. It's near Chicago."

"That's where my friend is from! What city do you live in?"

"Madison."

"So does my friend!"

The two of them talked further, swapped names and in a mind-boggling coincidence discovered that the one person this shopkeeper knew in America, some nine thousand miles away, used to attend the same church as Jan. She knew him and his family well. It's my favorite "small world" story ever.

My own small world experience isn't so far-fetched, because it occurs in the universal meeting place of Hawaii, the one restaurant chain that crosses cultures and tax brackets: Zippy's.

I was eating breakfast with my son in the Zippy's at Kahala when a man walked up to us and asked, "Are you māʻona?" The question was so unexpected that he had to repeat, "Are you māʻona?" Okihwn from hwn pake in okinawa had just flown into Hawaii the day before and recognized me from my photo. If you've never read his site, you should spend a few minutes. He writes not only about the food he finds around him in Okinawa, but also the simple, satisfying local foods common here in Hawaii. We chatted a few minutes before saying aloha as okihwn continued on his way, a box of corned beef hash in hand.

Thinking back on the unexpected meeting, I was reminded of food's power to bring people together. For me, that happens most often in the kitchen or around the dinner table, but other times it can be a chance encounter at Zippy's.

[Updated: Not ten minutes after posting the story above I ran into Sue Kiyabu, writer extraordinaire. I first ran into her long ago during her stint at Chef Mavro and have linked to her work. She now writes for my favorite local mag, Edible Hawaiian Islands. Chance encounters, indeed.]