How is it that with seven billion inhabitants this world is still a small place? Sure, the internet has shrunk the world considerably, but I’m amazed at the amount of times I’ve crossed paths with acquaintances.
From running into a classmate from high school at a bar in Beijing to crossing paths with a friend in SoHo on a busy Saturday afternoon, moments like this are quite serendipitous – and often surreal.
It amazes me how two of my fellow Fulbrighters were separated by one mutual friend.
The world might be small, but Sri Lanka is even smaller. An island of 22 million people, and it amazes me how often random crossings happen. Just yesterday, I was shopping in Colombo and happened across someone who had helped me sort out travel from Bati to Trinco. Then later that evening, while enjoying a wonderful jazz bar in Colombo, I happened to strike up a conversation with the cousin of the Director of the Fulbright Commission.
In Sri Lanka it seems like everyone knows everyone else. According to a local, up until three years ago there was only one bar to go to in Colombo on a Friday night, because most of the city’s affluent circles went there. In his opinion, it was a shame now because now those circles were spread between four bars.
When I started thinking about this, it seemed less surprising. In a country of 22 million, only about 2% are accepted to university. If we adjust this number up, to say 5%, it should more than account for all those who attend university outside of the country. That gives us about 1.1 million people who I would consider to be in the elite of the nation. Colombo, the political and financial capital, has only 800,000 people residing in it.
Looking at those numbers, its not surprising that everyone knows everyone else in Sri Lanka.