She set up shop there in my lap, as though it was empty only for lack of her presence. As though there were nothing more natural, as though she belonged right there in the curve between my torso and knees.
She stayed in my arms for about half an hour, her muffled cough causing her body to tense and relax. She seemed discontent, but happy to have human contact. I held her hand and stroked her hair. There wasn't much else to do.
Eventually, she got up and walked away through the courtyard, perhaps looking for another soul with which to share a moment. She settled herself onto a nearby bench, and gazed into the garden. I would see her a few more times during our stay at the ashram, always on the benches staring off into the distance.
We are not so different, she and I. Everyone seeks comfort, and craves human contact. We just go about getting it in different ways. We are same same... but different.
This is a phrase we have uttered countless times throughout our travels. "Same same... but different."
In so many ways, our commonalities with other humans are glaring. We are all fascinated by that which is different from us. Westerners gather to watch the fishermen pull in the morning's catch because it is different and interesting. Indian tourists and locals gather around Adam and I playing an intense round of smash ball because it is something new and different for them. Indians are shocked and intrigued by our bathing suits (so revealing, and so strange to have entirely separate clothes for water!), while we marvel at them entering the ocean in their saris, and button down dress shirts.
Adam and I have been the subject of countless photos with Indians, just as Indians become the subject of many photos taken by Westerners (us included). That is the same same. The different is that Indians want pictures with us, while Westerners want to surreptitiously snap a photo that will capture the "exotic" environment they were in.
Even in raising children, you can see how similar we all are despite cultural differences that seem immeasurable. In the villages in Sapa, Vietnam, where toys as we know them were virtually non-existent, and the color/style/intended gender of clothes made no difference so long as it kept the child warm on the cold mountain nights, we still saw parents whose actions reflected what is to us familiar. When the baby fell down, all adults laughed to ensure that the baby would not cry. Same same... but different.
At the risk of sounding extremely obvious, I will say that the world is a very big place. And it is full of people who think and act in vastly different ways based on widely disparate beliefs and values. But at our core, we are all human. We are fascinated by our differences, and celebrate our similarities. We dote on our offspring, and crave human affection. We play, we laugh, and when someone smiles at us, we smile back. We really all are same same... just different.