A Friday Drive to Tennis

Every Friday, I sit in the passenger seat with my tennis racket on my lap while my petite Japanese friend drives us to the court. She greets me with the same warm smile each week, genuinely glad I’m there. On those short drives, she tells me about her children, her country, and the life she carries between worlds. I am reminded how connection can grow in the simplest moments.

Through these stories, I have never been to Japan, but I feel as though I have glimpsed it. In return, she has come to know South Africa through my eyes, and these shared exchanges underline how connection can begin with curiosity.

What strikes me is not how different we are, but how much feels familiar. The love for our children, the pride in where we come from, and the small daily rhythms of family life create a connection. Our similarities open the door to understanding, just as our differences invite us to explore new worlds. It is something I have observed also in other relationships.

Following Curiosity Across Cultures

A long time ago, I worked with a young Afrikaans-speaking colleague who became deeply fascinated with the Japanese language and culture. Driven by determination, he learned Japanese from comic books, mastering an unfamiliar script. He didn’t just want to study the culture; he wanted to belong to it.

Believing that opportunity comes from placing yourself in its path, he moved to London and immersed himself in the Japanese community. He made friends, found love, and eventually built a life that led him to Japan. Years later, he gained Japanese citizenship, even completing part of the process in Japanese script.

A year ago, in his wedding photos taken in the Cape Winelands, I saw how two worlds could meet in one place. It was clear he had found his person, not by dwelling on difference, but by following a thread of connection across cultures.

Shared Humanity in Unexpected Places

When we arrived in Switzerland, I volunteered at a refugee camp in Zurich with other school mothers. I grew close to two women from Iran and Lebanon. The Iranian mother spoke Farsi, allowing her to communicate directly with many refugees. Through her, we heard stories that were difficult, complex, and deeply human.

Despite our very different backgrounds and circumstances, there was an undeniable thread that connected us. We were women, and we were mothers. All of us were navigating life as immigrants in a foreign country. That shared experience created understanding and compassion almost instantly.

When Life Becomes Unfamiliar

During a period of political unrest in Beirut, the Lebanese woman brought her elderly parents to Zurich for safety. It was not easy. Her stepfather had Alzheimer’s, and the disruption to his environment and routine was deeply unsettling for him. Watching their situation unfold made me realise how fragile stability can be, and how quickly life can shift beyond our control.

These friendships pushed me beyond my own perspective. They challenged my assumptions and opened windows into lives I might never have seen on my own. Through them, I learned something essential: empathy doesn’t begin with full understanding. It begins with recognising something familiar in someone else’s struggle. It is a point of connection that makes their world feel a little closer to your own.

The Comfort of Being Understood

At the same time, I was fortunate to build friendships with other South Africans living in Switzerland. With them, there is an ease that requires little explanation. We speak the same language, share similar backgrounds, and instinctively understand each other’s humour, frustrations, and values.

With these friends, I feel a sense of belonging. There is comfort in being understood without needing to explain yourself, and that brings stability, especially when confidence wavers. We witness each other’s lives. Around these friends, my way of thinking feels “normal” and grounded. If my different friends help me grow, my similar friends help me stand steady.

When a Community Chooses Common Ground

As a young student, I spent many holidays on a farm near Senekal in the Free State. Those memories are still precious to me, which is why it was difficult to witness the impact of racial tension on that community years later.

On 16 October 2020, a tragic farm murder sparked intense unrest. The divisions that followed were painful and visible. But afterwards, something shifted. People began to see that focusing only on what divided them was unsustainable.

A local forum was created, bringing together farmers and community members from different backgrounds to address shared challenges. Instead of focusing on national politics and deep-rooted differences, they turned their attention to everyday needs such as water, sanitation, roads, and basic infrastructure.

People who had once stood on opposite sides began working together. They cleaned the town. They maintained shared spaces. Together, they stepped in where local systems were failing. Slowly, the focus shifted from division to cooperation and from difference to common purpose. It didn’t erase the past, but it created a way forward.

Starting with What We Share

Every Friday, as I sit in that car on the way to tennis, I am reminded of something simple but powerful. Connection doesn’t begin with understanding everything about someone else. It begins with recognising something familiar. Something shared. And choosing to start there.

Our similarities draw us together. Our differences help us grow. And in the space between the two, we find the foundation of connection, and the possibility it creates.

Kind regards

Emsia