Cultural Encounter: A Stranger's Reflection on Comfort and Boundaries

So … I'm sitting down at this location this very morning here in the Philippines.

I had just been offered a particular type of rice dish.

As rice is pretty much embedded in their culture, I'm not surprised.

I'm seeing shop after shop after shop of foods and pawn shops and drinkeries and I'm offered as I walk by this rice dish which consists of a sweetened rice that you then lather with hot cocoa to sit.

To be frank, its quite delicious but before I get there, I say "sure, I'll try it. Unique to the Philippines? I'm in."

And I sit down with this delicious bowl of sweet white rice and hot cocoa that I pour on myself.

Now, as I eat, this little girl and her mother come and sit right next to me which I then make more room for as I scoot my bottom over on this bench.

Now, as the mother and daughter drop onto the bench, the daughter sits in between her mother and I and the daughter's left hand naturally falls onto my right thigh face down.

I'm immediately aware her hand is there and to any other person in this vicinity putting there hand on my lap, I might have asked them to remove it ... but between myself, the mother and the daughter, there's not quite any conscious acknowledgement on any level from any of us although I am subtly aware that to me … it's okay that this little girl feels safe enough to not have to think about where she's placing her hand.

I recognize that in this culture, that's probably totally acceptable behavior and to an insider of this culture, they would probably look at this little girl and embrace this little girl and whatever but to me, an outsider or a foreigner if you will, I have nothing to say and I continue to eat my dish.

In all honesty, I don't really feel like talking right now not because of the girl or anyone else in the place ... just because I don't want to.

And at this point, I become struck with how comfortable I feel here just … existing.

I am equally struck with how comfortable both the daughter feels having her hand on a stranger's lap and how comfortable the mother feels not needing to remove it.

Now, I'm not saying that mothers don't have instincts that transcend any cultural boundaries ... they do.

And I'm not saying that in the space of just a few seconds a mother won't know when to remove their selves from a certain situation or at the very least create some distance ... they can.

But in this instance, the mother hasn't removed her child's hand from where I am.

It stays there for the remainder of me eating my meal, paying for my meal, and as I get up to leave.

It's obvious to me they feel safe.

And for the moment, or at least for that moment, I'm happy to feel safe too.