He asked where I am from?

I always think that I'm not very good at socializing with people. Maybe because at the top of my list was always gain new skills, learn new stuff, be better at all the things I do. People thinks I'm lovely which is true in a way I can hold someone interest for at least 10 minutes but for some reason after that I run out of topics to talk about and rather just smile and ask as much questions as possible to keep the "conversation" flowing. For that reason why should I go out with people, classmates, roommates partying when I already had that 10 minutes conversation with them? I'd rather stay at home and have a big bar of chocolate (which makes me feel so guilty for a couple of seconds but than I'm fine again - Kitkat is the best!).



So what happened was on my previous trip when the famous Sunday Times photographer whose name is known in the UK very well, asked me on the second and last day of our trip where I am from. And the story behind it!?
First day when we were introduced to each other fortunately so many people were around so I didn't have to use up my 10 minutes limit. All day long as we worked right next to each other. We exchanged glimpse as we moved from one location to the next. An angry one for stepping into each other shots. A confused one when we didn't know whether the media is allowed to that meeting. A hot one standing in the sun for the perfect shot or running after our "Star" 3 flights of stairs, or happy one when we got what we wanted. Besides that we were silent sitting in the convoy next to each other, silent before the "Star" arrived, silent when it was silent. For me it was just what I have got used to it, no words, no bad pronunciation, no realization that I have a lack of knowledge of the conflicts in Afghanistan, what Kofi Annan latest moves was or my awkward jokes which doesn't always translate well in English from my Hungarian. (my colleagues usually get them but they are great and know me and love me...all of them does).



This is how the first day past and the second started just like that. First, second, third locations. Angry, confused, hot, happy when suddenly at the fourth location he asked me, where I am from.



Weird, it was. Sudden? Yes, but at the same time so great. I felt at that moment I would love to hug him.


It was our last location.

First blog

When did I actually write my blog? - Sitting in Nairobi Airport 2 months after I decided I'm going to write a blog (The inspiration was the film Julia and Juliet, if she can write about cooking I can write about something.)

The waiting room is pretty jammed, people are sleeping on floor and in chairs. Babies crying, old man snoring, books being read, phones being used to send texts and all sorts you can think of.

A good looking guy is sitting in front of me reading a book (or just pretending to reading it) and constantly looking in my direction - Never see the "looking" at someone in doctor's waiting rooms, on trains or planes going any further.

Anyway the good news is that there are 3 tanned, blond, skinny girls sitting right next to me, looking very trendy in posh outfits, books in their hands, I know it's a weird combination but it does exist.

And me, oh yes eating M&M'S - the one with peanuts - from my bag so who ever looks at me for more then 2 seconds can't see me eating them, the writing's in small letters so no one can read it. I think I'm going to be so sick if I don't stop eating a whole pack. Nice little set up, when finally the flight lady (I have no idea what their proper job title is but she's wearing an airlines branded jacket and starts to shout at us - tired, bored, posh, chocolate eaters, good looking passenger to bes) says "Let's board" (in a more informal way of course).

Then we board and queue up and fight to be at the front and all sorts. I do, I mean try to do the same. Quickly packing my chocolate away and shove my pen and my piece of paper into my big handbag - I know it will take me at least 30 minutes to find them again. After my fight with my zip I look up and the girls, old man, crying babies have all cleared off and there are only 3 people standing in the waiting room. It is the flight lady the good looking guy and me.