I like asking people where they’re from, especially if they have a foreign accent; because of my work, there’s a decent chance I’ve been to their hometown, and if that’s the case we have some common ground.
What amazes me is how no one ever asks me what I was doing there, even when the place is not a major city or a popular destination. I recently met a young woman at the gym, and when I asked her my favorite question, she answered “Romania.”
“Where in Romania?” I asked her.
“Cluj,” she said.
“I’ve been there,” I told her, and she showed no surprise or delight at my familiarity with her hometown. It was as if she was always meeting Americans who’d visited Cluj. Not only did I know her hometown, I knew – because I’d been there on a tour of Transylvania with a Hungarian friend – the Hungarian name for it: Kolozsvár. This information I kept to myself.
