We met at a major station hub and he escorted me to his home. Now Jon is your typical WASP; White Anglo-Saxon Protestant-reared suburban boy who has probably never tasted rice and beans mélange on the same plate. At least, not at his mommy’s house…At his stop, I could literally smell the Popeye’s chicken frying in their twelve herbs and spices, before the train doors opened.  As we walked, we passed by his favorite bodega and deli shop, a place he called Yemen.  I wonder of the type of culture shock he went through when he first moved to the city a few years back. I wonder of the culture shock he went through being with me?

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