Clink-clink-clink, marbles into a jar. One marble per country per person. Ringed fingers drop them in, fingers with pink nail polish, fingers with cracked knuckles. Young fingers, old ones. Clink-clink-clink, dropping marbles into the jar.
There are two light blue marbles, representing a vibrant land with beautiful people and a beautiful language. Their food is spicy and their roads are full of motorcycles. Thailand, the diamond of South East Asia.
Several dark green marbles fall into the jar, calling homage to an island home with jungles and coral reefs. They carry the memory of small prop planes and eating rice in dark rooms lit by generators. Indonesia and PNG, the necklace of the Pacific Ocean.
There's one white marble representing the place of someone's birth. It's a reminder of beach holidays, crazy bus rides, and fishing in the street gutters. Myanmar, glittering tower of Asia.
At the bottom of the jar are a handful of dark blue marbles, the biggest amount in the entire jar. They called to mind bustling cities and sprawling farmland. A rousing national anthem is held in this marble, calling to mind eagles and aspirations of freedom and prosperity. America the beautiful.
Clink. A single yellow marble is dropped into the jar. It tells tales of a lyrical language, of hot tropical nights and rain drumming on roofs. Ecuador the bold.
Two red marbles with gold swirls sit nestled into the rest. They whisper about helicopters flying through the Harmattan dust, and the little pieces of Africa it held. The echoes of drumbeats ring as they clink against the other marbles. Cameroon, Africa in miniature.
An orange marble sits alone and watches the others, listening to their stories. They see the similarities between themselves and the others, but added stories about dirt roads and seat-belt-less car rides to the mix. The little marble reminds the others of their beautiful currencies and the beaches that their people enjoy. Cote d'Ivoire, the pearl of Africa.
Clink-clink-clink. The marbles are mixed together, stirred until they combine and rub against each other.
A careful observer sees the differences. A wise one asks questions and listens to the stories as they are shared, tales of lands exotic and beautiful.
