Living in the UK, Where You Talk Even to Strangers

These days, especially at supermarkets with self-checkout, you might not talk to staff much during payment, but in the UK, it is a daily occurrence to make small talk with the cashier while paying. Sometimes it can be so long that it gets frustrating when you are the one waiting, though.

The other day on the subway, an incredibly stylish Black woman boarded at the station after mine. Looking to be in her late 40s, she wore a long, light gray wool coat, dark-colored denim, polished black ankle boots, a black beret, and carried a large, thin, light blue leather bag. She was so elegant that I wanted to keep looking at her. As she sat diagonally across from me and took out her glasses to read the free newspaper you can get on the subway, I observed her while reading my own book, imagining that she might be in her mid-50s, an age where reading glasses are necessary.
That day, I was heading to an area called the City for a class, which meant traveling about 10 stations from my nearest stop—a fairly long journey for me. Since most people going to Central London get off and transfer after just a few stops, I assumed she would be transferring there too. At one point, our eyes met, and we smiled at each other. Then, when it was time for me to get off, she actually got off the train too.

"Excuse me, I have to take my hat off to your style! You are so elegant and beautiful that I couldn't stop looking at you," I said to her. She replied, "I really love your use of color, and I've been enjoying looking at you the whole time! It's magnificent! I was debating whether to say something, so thank you!"

That day, I was wearing purple, red, and pink, from my jacket down to my exercise leggings—I was covered in those colors from head to toe. My heart soared afterward, knowing that she, with her own very stylish and elegant appearance that was the complete opposite of mine, had been looking at me that way.

My mother, who lives in Fukuoka, is a very social person who talks to everyone. When I was young, I used to tell her, "Don't talk to strangers, it's embarrassing!" But now, I am the one shamelessly talking to strangers, savoring the joy of connecting with people and learning about them. Come to think of it, it is no exaggeration to say that Kyushu has long been a gateway to the world. I suppose that Kyushu temperament—enjoying connecting with the world and with people—is firmly ingrained in both my mother and me.
To those from Kyushu who say they don't talk to strangers, I apologize.