This morning in Paris I had breakfast with a woman who is stateless. That is, she is not a citizen of any country. In particular, she is a political refugee from Western Saraha.
I think this may have been the first time I had ever personally met a Muslim refugee, although of course a vast number of them are out there. I was pleased to find her very warm hearted, extremely perceptive and rather brilliant. She was also clearly enjoying the open-mindedness of the people she was meeting in Paris.
And I wasn’t the only one who was having an exotic experience. At one point she reached across the table, shook my hand, and said “This is the first time I am having breakfast with a Jew.” She seemed to be thoroughly delighted by this.
It was also the first time I had ever seen the passport of a stateless person. With her permission, I took a photo of the cover:
I wish everyone were as centered as this woman is. I guess it makes sense: When you have been deprived of any place on earth to call home, you learn to be highly grounded.