Restaurant

My heart swelled with this aching pity for this woman and her debating partners. Yesterday my friend invited me for a lunch at a local Somalian restaurant. I wasn’t working anyway what do I have to loose? I accepted the invitation. In Somalian culture if someone invites you for a lunch it means that your expenses are covered. I went to his new house to pick him up. I entered His house. It was a one-bedroom house. The room was dark and smelling musty. There was a hole in the ceiling. You could see sunshine shining through the hole. Dust danced through the hole. It reminded me of my physics class. My old physics teacher will always wrap two board cleaner together and then run a laser light through it to show how particles travel. My friend had a one bed in his room. The bed was so small that if two of us sit on it at the same time it will break. We left for the restaurant shortly after he dressed up.We happened to bump in to this professional woman with her friend at this restaurant. I didn’t know them but they were acquaintance of my friend. My friend invited them to join us for the lunch. I was immediately tensed and not happy with my friend choice. I am always not comfortable around people especially on a food table. My friend introduced them to me. They were two women in their early thirties if not late twenties. I greeted them while I chuckled with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. They both hugged me. They had a sweet breath. Their breath was frosted. They seemed to be professional women. Their dress seemed eccentric. Each of them had a face that showed ambition. The ambition was youthful. The restaurant was packed with people of different gender, height and speaking tone. We all made different orders. We were all silent while we waited for the food. Then suddenly one of the ladies broke the silence. I was bombarded by what seemed to be people whipping themselves in to a fury about how they detest young Somalian boys. One of the women was so disgusted with the Somalian community you might think she was an alien in the mist of children. Her tirade was brimming with loathing and disgust of the community. She was able to find a willing audience from my friend and her friend who were both nodding their head whenever she formed a foaming mouth. All this time I was scratching my head and reading this woman’s mind. I shrugged my shoulders. I managed a smile whenever she looked at me for an agreement with her tirade. My smile was weak. You could tell I was not in agreement with her.This woman was re-directing all the conversations to draw some attention to her. Whenever you want to present your argument to people, you need to organize your argument in such a way that it meets the need of the people you are addressing. This lady was creating a barrier between herself and the Somalian community. I wanted to dash out of this restaurant before she could talk about my mama. I decided to participate in the conversation but I could not. Generally the best way to persuade others is to identify with them in some ways whether it is religion or values. I asked her to tell me what common ground she has with the community she is loathing. She said only the culture. I reminded her much of what she is said is without any thinking. I asked her if she ever helped any boy to stay in school. She said that was none of her business. If it was none of her business then why is it now? I asked her. She stared at me. The stare is half-surly. The stare is disgusted with the annoying questions. The stare is meant to be what is wrong with you? I said to her sorry mom, you have to identify with the people you are criticizing first.