“A nation’s culture resides 
in the hearts and in the soul 
of its people.”  
Gandhi

When two adult natives of San Francisco meet, it doesn’t take long before one of them asks “the question.” It’s a very San Francisco question: “So where’d you go to school?” There is no doubt in the mind of either of them that the inquiry refers to the high school they attended — not the elementary school and not the university. Their answer to “the question,” along with the follow-up question, “What year did you get out?” provides all the information they need to engage in a lively conversation about the multitude of mutual friends they have, other people they know in common, and the places and events both experienced during those memorable high school years.

Here in Nassau, in The Bahamas, I find it fascinating to ask a similar question. When I meet someone on the island who was born and raised here, I ask, “Where did you go to high school?” Unlike San Francisco, it’s necessary to specify “high school” when asking the question. The person’s answer to this question, much like the similar inquiry in The City, opens doors to engaging conversations.

Yesterday, I met a couple who own a rental property directly across the street from where I’m staying. I introduced myself, told them I was renting a room for a week across the street, and asked them where they attended high school. Marcus said he went to Saint Augustine’s College. Then, speaking on his wife’s behalf, he said, “She want to Queen’s College.” I looked at the woman and said, with a smile on my face, “Oh, you’re a Comet!”

Both of them were surprised that I would know that the mascot of Queen’s College is the Comet. Then I turned back to Marcus and asked what year he graduated from SAC. He informed me that he was in the class of 1992. I told him I had taught at SAC in the 1974-75 academic year. He replied, “That’s the year I was born!”

Of course, we had a delightful conversation about all the SAC teachers and administrators, and the monks from the monastery, who we knew in common, as well as a number of experiences we had both enjoyed during our SAC years. Prior to our conversation, we were strangers. That brief verbal exchange of information made us family. That’s just how it is here in Nassau.

I can’t help but think of the words of Irish poet William Butler Yeats, who said, “There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t met yet.” This is true in San Francisco, and it’s equally applicable to life in Nassau.

I’ve had similar conversations with local taxi drivers, restaurant workers, salespeople in stores along Bay Street, and with other customers in the local grocery store. It all begins with a simple “hello,” an acknowledgement that the other person exists — and Bahamians are quite proficient at greeting strangers. The hospitality of the Bahamian people is a tremendous gift to visitors to the islands. Perhaps each greeting is an investment in the primary industry here in Nassau — tourism.

Yes, any time I come to Nassau, it feels very much like home.