I love strangers who smile at you when you accidentally catch their gaze. Especially the ones who let you into their life for that fraction of a second. It’s just something about the levels of “genuine” that you can catch in their smile. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but you smiled at me like we were old buddies, and I love you for that.

I love strangers who say something to you, especially when you’re stuck somewhere together. I don’t feel the same way about strangers who converse. Often, I want to be left alone. Yet, I do enjoy acknowledging the fact that the person waiting with me is a person with a voice, a sense of humor, and a character. A simple comment or a quick joke about the shared experience is a form of acknowledgment, and I like that.

Speaking of humor, three years ago, there was a horrible traffic jam around the Al-Wadees roundabout in Shmeisani. When my turn finally came, my eye caught the eye of a young man in a huge gas-guzzler. He must have been in his late teens, and he looked flustered, so I stopped my car and waved him in ahead of me.

I will never forget what he did next, although its been three years.

In front of Al-Wadees, the young man stopped his car, pressed his hands together (palms touching and fingers pointed upwards), and then bowed deeply with the happiest smile I’ve seen in my life. Then he sat up straight and drove off. I was in awe for a week. The interaction lasted less than 30 seconds, and I don’t even remember his face. But his smile, my god, I’ll never forget his smile. That stranger made me feel so good. I still feel happy when I think of him, whoever that stranger was.

I love strangers who are comfortable. Like when I’m sitting at Turtle Green and I share my sitting space with a person whose name I don’t know, but whose body language shows that he or she has accepted me into their life for the remainder of our shared experience. Even better, I love it when I’m trying to plug in my charger and a stranger looks up and says that his or her Macbook is fully-charged, and that I can just use his charger instead of plugging mine.

I love strangers who compliment my glasses. I love strangers who laugh from the bottom of their heart. I love strangers who you can connect to on a level that is ironically deep.

I told you about my recently-found deep appreciation for honesty, and the kinds of strangers I love are the honest strangers. The people who don’t leave their souls at home when they’re in the midst of ones they don’t know. The people who remain true to themselves, regardless of who’s looking.

And I really, really love it when a stranger you see so often stops being a stranger and becomes a friend.

Strangers I love, thank you.