trying hard, oh so hard (but ultimately failing) not to use the title "its a small world after all"

You know, no matter how hard i try, no matter how far i run i just cant escape brookfield. i figured africa would be a good place to go...i mean its remote, third world, dirty, poor, hottt (yes with three t's) in short everything connecticuts not. this next story goes under the heading of "you know the worlds way way too small when..." its a story that would make tom friedman proud.

Last night, call it 11pm i left my toubab cousin brinans house and went home. as my luck would have it my family locked me out of the house (though maybe they were trying to give me some sort of hint..in any case i didnt get it and started ringing the doorbell. after about 10 minutes this guy comes up to me. after the reqisite 15 minutes of greetings..."how are you? hows your family? hows your health? i hope nobody is sick? how are you? whats your name? whats your last name? where were you born? alhumdililahi? where did you grow up? how did you sleep? (never mind it was 11 at night) how are you? where do you come from? fan ngay joge? alhamdililahi! and so on and so on"

its fairly obvious at this point that im a toubab (the moon was full..that must have given me away) and so he asks me if i speak english. i say i do. we start the whole thing over in english...

15 minutes later, he asks me where in america i live. i gave the only answer that makes any sense to anyone here: near new york city. roughly speaking thats true, and its a lot better an answer than "connecticut." most people here have heard of new york city. like the west coast, nobody here knows connecticut...or so i thought.

"oh yeah? i lived in new york...white plains actually." he says.
so i told him i lived in connecticut...anyonewho lives in white plains knows connecticut.
"oh i lived in stamford too for a while"
this is starting to get weird.
"no kidding? do you know danbury? i lived right by danbury." i say. i figure that since both stamford and danbury are on rt 7 theres a fair chance hed heard of it.
"yeah i used to work in danbury. at the circuit city. i was the manager there.. you know the one, right across the street from that big market..."
"stew leonards!" i said.
"yeah, you know it?" he asks.

lets pause for a moment here. not only do i know of circuit city, but i bought my ipod there. i have multiple friends who work at the circuit city (well actually my sister has multiple friends who work there but you know this is africa and your friends are my friends, and my friends are your friends, and the more we get together, the happier well be). i have multiple friends who work at the aforementioned stew leonards (theyre really my friends too!).

"yeah i know it. i live in brookfield." i told him. now anyone who works at the circuit city would have to be either dead or confined to a hospital bed to not know brookfield. you could throw a rock from circuit city and break a window in brookfield thats how close they are.

"oh up the super 7?" he asked. now its weird.
"yeah, right by four corners, you know the intersection with the four gasstations?"
yeah yeah yeah, my office was right near there," he says. you know instead of going left to new milford you go right and theres that plaza?"
"yeah yeah i know it" i say. but knowing it is a bit of an understatement. i got my haircut at that plaza. my first job was at a pizza place in that plaza (all two days of it). im familiar.

at this point someone finally opens the door. i leave abu, as hes called, go inside into my room and then proceed to freak out that here, in a back alley of a neighborhood in dakar senegal, i just met a guy who i very well could have bumped into back home in ct...

but thats not the weirdest part of it...the weirdest part of it is that no goats were involved in this story in any way whatsoever. none.
now thats freaky...even for senegal.

love
jake