Footnote - Our Moms Told Us Not to Talk to Strangers but Nobody Told the Strangers Not to Talk to Us

As Mehr and I parted ways this week, I couldn't help but look back and notice a distinctive trend occurring in our travels together. I have already alluded to it in stories such as our plane ride with J. in Australia, but Mehr and I have an uncanny magnetism drawing strangers to tell us their life stories with no invitation.

In addition to J., there were the Jehovah's Witness Grannies who besieged us while we were having a snack in the park in Fremantle and the Italian Elders Social Club in the mall while I was repacking my bag. And that was just Australia. In KL, we had an older Chinese man who spoke no English stare us down at our restaurant table and then motion to us that satay makes people fat.



And later I was stopped on the street while walking to the Petronas towers by an Indian yogi who told me my fortune in super hushed tones (what I could hear was that Tuesday is my unlucky day and my face is very lucky). He also did a great trick where he predicted my favourite colour is blue and my favourite number is 7. Following that incident, on Pulau Perhentian, we ended up spending four hours talking politics with an Indian Malaysian internet cafe owner. We also had a tag along German guy in the Cameron Highlands... not even sure when he appeared, but he stuck by our elbows all day.

And in Thailand, a random American guy sweet talked his way into sharing a cab back to our hostel neighbourhood (that was worth it if only because when he heard we had been to Brunei, he asked if we knew the Sultan personally). And in Siem Reap, we were quizzed on things to do in the area by two passing by Irish guys. And in Vietnam, we had ladies showing us their wedding albums while selling us shoes or grabbing our baby fingers or full tummies in restaurants. We're pretty sure there is a sign over our heads saying Please Come Talk To Us.