Thursday, May 24, 2007

In the Company of Relatives

What is the likelihood that I would move from North Carolina to New York City and gain employment in the same company as an extended member of my family (on the side that isn't even from the United States), and who I didn't even know existed? I don't know the exact odds, but this is why I should not marry a Filipino:

Me: [sitting in my cubicle in our midtown office building]
My phone: [starts to ring]
Me: "This is Katie."
Voice on other line: "Katie, this is Caroline. I work at [our downtown office building]."
Me: "Hi. What can I do for you?"
Voice: "Tita Elsie told me to call you."
Me: [confused] "What?"
Voice: "Tita Elsie."
Me: "Who?"
Voice: "Tita Elsie. Do you know Tita Elsie?"
Me: [I do know Tita Elsie, but I was disoriented by the context] "Wait. Who is this?"
Voice: "This is Caroline. I'm Tita Elsie's niece."

Tita Elsie is my mother's cousin. Apparently Caroline has worked for this company for five years. We've even walked by each other several times in either building or at different company functions since the start of my employment nine months ago and never knew that we were related.

A similar situation happened to my mom in Asheville. She realized that she had second cousins living 30 minutes down I-40 in Waynesville after living in Western North Carolina for almost ten years. If I do marry a Filipino, who ends up being my second or third cousin, maybe the White side of my genes will dilute the chromosomes enough to ward off any mental or physical disabilities.

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