I’ve spoken with the hostel worker a few times,
mostly pleasantries,
once to get some documents printed,
but we never got into any personal questions.
But as I order my breakfast ticket,
I ask her if she was born and raised in Tbilisi.
She smiles and says,
“No, I come from the mountains.”
Her response begs many more questions.
Where in the mountains?
What was it like growing up in the mountains?
How did you and your family live?
What do your parents do,
and do you speak with them often
now that you are in the city?
Are you in the city to escape the mountains?
And where did you learn
to speak English so fluently?
From school?
Or from your parents?
But I hesitate to ask any of those questions.
When I look at the young woman,
I see such serenity in her face.
She looks fully complete.
She is not expecting more questions.
Her simple statement –
I come from the mountains –
explains everything one needs to know
about her culture,
her upbringing,
why she has come to the city,
her language skills,
and everything else about her.
To ask her further questions
might sever the magic and simplicity
of her response.
So I remain silent.
