| Author: | Dr. David Rabeeya | ISBN: | 9781477179208 |
| Publisher: | Xlibris US | Publication: | November 6, 2006 |
| Imprint: | Xlibris US | Language: | English |
| Author: | Dr. David Rabeeya |
| ISBN: | 9781477179208 |
| Publisher: | Xlibris US |
| Publication: | November 6, 2006 |
| Imprint: | Xlibris US |
| Language: | English |
It all begins in a lobby of a hotel in Sydney, Australia . . . Korean, Chinese, Japanese; they look alike in his eyes. He saw ample ethnic groups and races before, but it is impossible to differentiate between all these Asians speaking in linguistic codes. This is the way he perceived this human mumbo jumbo in his accidental visit. His English was quite clear to their ears, but he could not detect their mish-mash Australian English accent with their sharp syllables and consonants. It was Greek to him. He could not connect his monotheistic heritage with their cultural and religious gods, customs and mores. In his eyes they were not exotic at all. They were just people with poker faces, as if they were wearing invisible masks. He felt that their presence in the lobby was as if they were under water, bushes and flowers which were surfacing for a while in order to dive again. This total lack of emotion toward their existence in his surrounding was bothering him a little, but he could not fi nd ways to build any invisible spiritual bridges in their direction. There were also New Zealanders with their long vowels and swallowed consonants chatting with Australians about . . . what else? Sports!
It all begins in a lobby of a hotel in Sydney, Australia . . . Korean, Chinese, Japanese; they look alike in his eyes. He saw ample ethnic groups and races before, but it is impossible to differentiate between all these Asians speaking in linguistic codes. This is the way he perceived this human mumbo jumbo in his accidental visit. His English was quite clear to their ears, but he could not detect their mish-mash Australian English accent with their sharp syllables and consonants. It was Greek to him. He could not connect his monotheistic heritage with their cultural and religious gods, customs and mores. In his eyes they were not exotic at all. They were just people with poker faces, as if they were wearing invisible masks. He felt that their presence in the lobby was as if they were under water, bushes and flowers which were surfacing for a while in order to dive again. This total lack of emotion toward their existence in his surrounding was bothering him a little, but he could not fi nd ways to build any invisible spiritual bridges in their direction. There were also New Zealanders with their long vowels and swallowed consonants chatting with Australians about . . . what else? Sports!
