A young friend and former student of mine whom we'll call Ryan was at a campus ministry get acquainted mixer at the university he has just started attending. Not knowing a soul yet, he was happy when a young man came up and introduced himself as Ansar (not his real name). Ryan remarked that that was not a name you hear all the time and asked him where he was from.
"Central Asia."
"Central Asia is huge. Which country?"
"You've probably never heard of it. It's called Uzbekistan."
"Oh yes, I'm somewhat familiar with that part of the world, although I've never been there."
"Really?"
Ansar was apparently so used to people never having heard of his homeland that he had decided it wasn't even worth mentioning it by name.
The two began to chat and get to know each other, leading to the exchange of contact info. When Ryan asked Ansar his last name, he said in essence, "Oh, you won't be able to pronounce it, much less remember it."
"But it's your name. And names are sacred. Teach me how to pronounce it."
Needless to say, Ansar was taken aback. He was clearly unused to this kind of painstaking attention to the details of his identity -- particularly his ethnic and cultural identity -- let alone the significance of a name.
Since their initial conversation, the two have spent some time together with other friends, and Ansar has even cooked for them. Ryan also tells me Ansar has the best laugh in the world.
No matter how this young friendship evolves, one thing is certain:
Ansar's life has been touched because a young American invested in educating himself on cultures beyond our borders. So when the opportunity to build a bridge arose, Ryan was ready.