Being seen, feeling real

I've been in St Vincent for just under two days, and in that time I've seen, without planning to, while driving or while walking or shopping:

• Several school friends
• One of my younger brother's former teachers
• A primary school classmate of my older brother
• Younger brothers of different friends from secondary school than the ones I saw
• A first cousin once removed
• Two different people from two old churches of mine

I also got a WhatsApp message from a friend who apparently let me in in traffic, but who, contrary to custom, didn't beep or shout my name. (When I told my father what she said and where she saw us, he said we had the right of way so she didn't really let us in. 😄)

And this is typical both for my visits here and, I think, for visits home for everybody from here. Maybe it's typical for everybody who's from somewhere small, but I think the infrequency of my visits (usually once a year) and it being a small island nation amplifies things.

The contrast with London couldn't be starker. After moving there in 2012, it'd make my day if I randomly ran into somebody I knew, which would happen maybe twice a year. The highlight of that was around 2014 or so when I got off the train near the flat I was living in at the time. I started heading for the station when, in the telling of a friend I was travelling with, when I suddenly froze. I'd just seen an old friend from St Vincent, a classmate of my younger brother who was my flatmate during undergrad in Barbados in 2009 or so. We hadn't kept in touch but I'd assumed he was still in the Caribbean. It turned out that not only was he in the UK, but he was living in the same building as me. This wasn't a life-changing encounter; it wasn't even a friendship-building encounter. I know he moved to the Netherlands shortly after but I don't think we became best buddies or even good neighbours after that encounter. And I haven't talked to him in years. 😅

But – and maybe this is because of where I'm from, because for as long as I've known myself while living in or visiting St Vincent, I couldn't go to town or go out without seeing somebody I know – something about random, encounters like that, even when they're shallow and inconsequential, whether they happen several times a day as in St Vincent or twice a year as in London, make me feel more known, more loved, more real.