(by guest blogger: Tracy)
I’ve not “coincidentally” run into anyone from High School since graduation. Until we moved to India. On Saturday WMG and I treated ourselves to lunch at the 
Hyatt Hotel in Delhi. They serve steak sandwiches to fulfil WMG’s ever-present longing for beef, and a salad bar full of raw vegetables, (presumably) free from salmonella and listeria, to fill the mid-week vegetable void created by my lack of cooking activity. They also have burgers on the menu, which I’m definitely having next time.
So there I am spooning large quantities of lettuce and crunchy croutons onto my plate when I look up and do a double take. A slender woman with short red hair was filling up her plate a few feet away from me, and I was pretty sure I knew her. Jeni Henderson and I went to High School together, and we accidentally bumped into each other 17 years later, 7,011 miles away from home. Jeni moved to India seven years ago, and lives in the same neighborhood I work in. We exchanged five whole minutes of “Oh My Gosh I Don’t Believe It” conversations, traded contact details, and promised to be in touch.
I always insist that the world is not a small place, regardless of how many “guess who I ran into” conversations we have, but now I’m not so sure. If our timing had been ten minutes different, we wouldn’t have noticed each other sitting across the room. If our whole year had been ten minutes different, what other stories would we tell to reflect our time here in India?
