My flight back from Hawaii was smooth as glass. My neighbor to the left had turned to me shortly after takeoff and had started what turned out to be a very pleasant conversation. His name was George he announced, and this had been his fourth visit to the Big Island, adding that he always stayed at the Kamehameha Hotel in Kona.

Which courses did I play, he wanted to know and was incredulous when I told him that I do not play golf, that I explore the country, never stay in hotels, instead find places in the back country.

He felt sorrow for me that I never savored the excitement of a foursome on one of the incredible Hawaiian courses. Anyway, he informed me, it was much too dangerous in the country side with all the wild animals, and craters filled with red hot molten lava. Furthermore, he added, that he never had the time to go sightseeing.

He had played a different course every day. Sure, the green fees were high, but he could easily afford them, he was well off, maybe even rich, he had chuckled.

In Los Angeles we parted and I settled down in my waiting wheelchair. The dark skinned young man pushing my chair obviously was an immigrant and since I couldn’t place his accent I finally asked him where he came from. We had to transfer to another airline at another concourse so there was plenty of time to listen to his remarkable story.

Had I ever heard of Eritrea, he asked me. Sure, I told him. And when I added that I even remembered Italy leaving that country, I had become an immediate friend. He did not elaborate about the events that made him an orphan early in his life, or why he later found himself in Addis Ababa, nor how he was later adopted by some desert nomads.

Did he meet any of the Afar people I asked. As an answer he almost danced with joy that his new American friend knew about the wandering tribes of the desert, - and our friendship deepened.

But soon his life of herding the tribe’s goats changed dramatically. A French team of scientists had come to the Afar desert and he was hired as sort of a houseboy. He spoke two languages already and now added a smattering of French and English. He became intrigued by what these strange people were doing, and why they were doing it. A new universe started to open up for him.

One of the scientists recommended him to a friend in the Capitol. He worked hard to please his new employer who in turn rewarded the inquisitive young man with a great gift, a teacher who tutored the young fellow every evening.

He finally arrived in America as a poor immigrant, as poor as I had come to America. But somehow I felt that George was the poorer and this young man the richer of the two.