What are the chances?

The human connection blows my mind a lot. The world seems big a lot of the time, especially when I am far away from home (I’m currently in Chicago in my second year undergrad in an art school). People make the world seem smaller, and more manageable. Meeting people from home especially, even if they are more or less strangers, brings an odd sense of comfort and makes a ‘new’ place so much less scary.

I am in the process of applying for the art education course at my school and have an appointment with Isak, one of the coordinators of the programme. Isak pulls out my record and says, “Oh you’re from Singapore?” I say yes with a smile. He goes on to remark that his wife is a Singaporean (He’s an American/ ang moh as we would call him). I am pleasantly surprised, it is not everyday that you hear of a fellow Singaporean. I ask if he’s been there, he says he and his wife go back once every two years or something like that. We go on to figure out some administrative things, when a chat notification with a heart from ‘Valerie’, I assume who’s his wife, pops up on his screen. Somehow the name is familiar to me, but I cannot figure out why.

“So I’m gonna go on this site, and we’re gonna switch seats so you can create an account with the Illinois State Board of Education…” I move over to his computer. Oh! Valerie, Valerie from Art History first semester of freshmen year. Wait, she was from Singapore too I think? She was from Singapore too! Could she be the same Valerie? Probably? But Valerie is a pretty common name though. I look around, attempting to be subtle. There is a tiny photo on one of the walls. I squint – it is probably the same Valerie but I cannot tell for sure.

Connections like that excite me, because what are the chances? It is a really minor thing, but somehow you know the feeling of just getting excited because the dots seem to join up? I get into this art history class first semester of freshmen year that is usually for second semester freshmen. It is a pretty big art history class, but I happen to sit directly behind Valerie. She recognizes my accent and asks if I am from Singapore. We aren’t the best of friends, or even calling her a friend is pushing it, but we make conversation once in a while and she is really sweet. What are the chances of my transcript having some issue, and then I come in and meet Isak, and she happens to send him a message then?

Then again, six degrees of separation is a theory that claims each individual as being a maximum of six steps from any other person in the world. I do not think it is a hundred percent true, but it definitely reminds me of the interconnectedness of the world we live in. The idea of that – depending when it hits you – can be immensely comforting in that we aren’t that alone afterall; or perhaps greatly claustrophobic in moments where people just annoy the crap out of you and the concept of being on your own forever becomes very appealing.

We finish up on the computer and go out into the hall to photocopy my transcript. “Wait, is Valerie your wife?” I am not leaving without being sure. He says yes and I tell him I think I took a class with her before apologizing for perhaps being intrusive. He laughs and says he doesn’t care. “Are you going home for winter break?” He asks. I shake my head, “Nah, but I’m looking forward to the summer though.” Sated, we let the feeling of serendipity wash over us.