As I raised the coffee cup to my mouth, I heard a voice calling to me from across the square, ‘Hi James! What are you doing here?’
I peered quizzically at the person shouting at me. A total lack of recognition on my part! But he must know me as he called me by my name.
I’m aware It’s often difficult to recognise people whom you have met briefly. This is exacerbated, in my case, by being an organiser, chair and presenter at conference events. People know who you are, having heard you speak, but they are just a blur to you, a face in the audience.
Even students you have tutored at university fade into the recesses of your mind if the tutoring was well in the past. The less memorable students fade into obscurity much sooner.
It’s similar with people you might serve with on committees. The longer the interval between committee meetings or the shorter the life of the committee the quicker your memory of people fades. In some cases, that is a blessing in disguise.
As these thoughts are flowing through my mind, the person calling to me crosses the road, threading his way through the multitude of motorbikes and the odd car. Although traffic in Hanoi is voluminous, if you ‘make like a fish’, weaving sinuously through the vehicles, it’s relatively safe to cross the road. After a couple of near misses, he arrived at the table I was sitting at and took a seat.
I continued to look at him questioningly. I’m sure he thought I had just forgotten his name.
‘It’s Martin,’ he said. ‘Martin Vance, from Trade and Industry. We met a couple of months ago at the Minister’s round table on trade opportunities in South-East Asia. I assumed that was why you were here. Although, you Treasury guys don’t normally get too far from your offices in Canberra.’
I did not work in Treasury or live in Canberra. It was dawning on me that I had never met Martin. But how did he know my name?
‘Martin, are you sure you know me? I have never worked in a Treasury, in Canberra or in any other city in Australia. Yes, I am an economist, but with the Bank of Queensland in Brisbane.’
‘Oh!’ said Martin. ‘But you responded to me calling your name – James.’
‘Yes, my name is James. James Weatherspoon. I have only ever been to Canberra on holiday. Just as I am in Vietnam – on holiday. You must have me confused with someone else, Martin.’
‘Well, how about that! You are the spitting image, like an identical twin, of a colleague of mine, James Purvis.’ Martin laughed.
‘Martin, join me for a coffee and a chat. When you get back to Canberra, you’ll be able to tell your colleague all about his doppelgänger.’
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