Four Countries at One Table

We began with weather, because sometimes weather is the easiest way to make strangers less strange.

In Campo Grande, Ismar said it was 18 degrees Celsius. In Aleppo, Abdullah said it was 35 degrees, and then he added, almost with a smile in his voice, that their heads melt under the sun. In France, The Mayor was somewhere in the middle, with clouds and 24 degrees. Ritesh was not yet with us. He was stuck in Bangalore traffic, which also felt like a kind of weather, only made by humans.

So before we even spoke about health and lifestyle balance, we were already inside it. Heat, traffic, time zones, noise, windows, no windows, and the small difficulties of arriving together from different parts of the world.

Abdullah told us that in Syria there had been no winter time for a few years now, only summer time, but some servers or systems still seemed confused. We understood this in our own way. Time is not only on the clock. It is also in countries, in governments, in old systems that continue to behave as if nothing has changed. The Mayor said that even after many years he still gets confused when Europe moves between winter and summer time, especially because he works east and west. We laughed a little, but it was also true. Balance can begin with something very practical: knowing what time it is for the other person.

Then The Mayor explained to Abdullah how Brida works. It is not a language school, he said. It is international conversations for people who have something to say. English is the bridge because we are global, but the real learning comes when the topic matters so much that people forget they are speaking English. We liked that, because this is what happened with us also. We did not come to perform English. We came with our lives.

The theme was balance. June was balance, July would be rest, and there was already a plan of themes until 2030. This sounded both very organized and very human, because inside that long structure there was still space for the conversation to move where it needed to move. The questions were there like a lighthouse, The Mayor said, but if someone said something interesting, the conversation could follow that. We felt this was important. Too much structure can kill a conversation, but no structure can also make people lost. One side is freedom, the other side is direction.

When Abdullah was asked what healthy lifestyle meant to him, he said food, sleep, exercise, habits, waking up early, eating healthy food. He said waking up early meant five or six in the morning, though he admitted he was not always doing it. He was an early bird, but sleeping early was difficult. His neighbourhood was noisy, and his room had no windows. The Mayor joked that he had too many windows in France and would send him some. It was a small joke, but it stayed with us. For one person, windows are a cleaning problem. For another, no windows are part of daily life.

Ismar took the question in another direction. He agreed that food matters, but he added what we read, what we watch, who we talk to, and who we live with. Also smoking, alcohol, drugs. This was very Ismar. He does not only look at the plate. He looks at the system around the plate. He said that even seniors can be influenced by what they watch, even if only in a small degree. On Instagram, if he watches one post about a car accident, the algorithm shows him more car accidents. If he watches war, it shows him more war. He was not dramatic about it. He was simply observing. But there was a warning inside his observation: what we consume can start consuming us.

Abdullah understood this from a younger perspective. He said ads on Instagram can make him go and buy things. He also spoke about short videos, memes, ridiculous things, things that make us laugh but do not give benefit. He said he spends between one and a half and two hours a day on short content. Not long content. Only short content. We recognized ourselves there also. Maybe in different countries, with different apps, but the same small trap. We say we have no time, but sometimes we have given our time away in pieces.

When The Mayor asked whether this could be escapism from reality in Syria, Abdullah did not make it too dramatic. He said maybe the problem is time management. Half an hour a day would be fine, but two hours is too much. We appreciated that. He did not turn it into a big philosophy. He made it practical.

Then we spoke about mornings. Ismar said he feels more energetic in the morning, though he does not like getting up too early. Normally he gets up at 7 a.m. In the afternoon and night, he feels more sleepy. Sometimes he takes a nap, depending on what he has to do. Abdullah said the sun rises around 5:15 in Aleppo. If he wakes up at that time, he feels full of energy. He might walk, do sports, or complete tasks that have been waiting for a long time. But later, around two or three in the afternoon, the city is crowded, the sun is strong, and he feels turned off. Sometimes he needs a nap. In Aleppo, office hours are often eight to two or three. The Mayor joked that this was paradise, a seven-hour working day, and that he might move to Syria.

Ismar explained that in Campo Grande there is no big variation in work rhythm according to season. Brazil once had summer time, but since Bolsonaro’s government they do not have it. He personally liked summer time, though many people did not. People may work from eight to six, or in civil construction from seven to five. Again, we saw how health is not just individual discipline. It is climate, work, transport, government decisions, history.

Then the conversation became more dangerous, because sugar arrived.

The Mayor asked Abdullah if he was fit and healthy. Abdullah answered honestly. He eats a lot of sugar. He drinks some soda. He does not smoke. In Syria, he said, people consume many carbohydrates. Bread is everywhere: breakfast, lunch, sometimes dinner. There is a saying: eat some bread or you will never feel full. They have many jams, even rose jam. Any fruit can become jam. The Mayor asked whether this was climate or culture. Abdullah thought maybe it was economy. Bread is cheaper.

This opened something in us. Health advice often sounds simple when people have choices. Reduce sugar. Eat fresh food. Buy organic. Walk more. But when bread is the affordable thing, when fruit and vegetables are expensive, when daily life is built around what fills the stomach, advice becomes less simple. We have to be careful before judging someone’s plate.

Ismar said his breakfast was healthy according to his parameters: fruit salad, sometimes bread with cheese, sometimes granola and honey, sometimes a boiled egg, but not every day. No alcohol. No soft drinks. Water, sometimes cappuccino, sometimes fruit juice. Ismar’s discipline felt quiet but firm. He was not showing off. He had simply made rules for himself.

Then Abdullah and Ismar spoke briefly about language. Ismar asked if Abdullah spoke Arabic as a first language. Abdullah said yes, and that he graduated from the English department and took many online courses to improve his accent. When Ismar said he could not hear the usual Arabic accent he had heard from others, Abdullah felt flattered. It was a small moment of recognition, and maybe it mattered more than it seemed. To work on something and have someone notice it is also a form of health.

When Ritesh joined, the circle became complete: Brazil, France, Syria, India. He apologized for being late, blaming Bangalore traffic, which by now we all accepted as its own character. He introduced himself as living in Bangalore, working in a software company as a technical writer, and then he shared good news: he might be transitioning into product next month as a product analyst. He had applied internally, gone through the interview process, been selected, and his current team had agreed to release him. We felt happy for him. The Mayor said Brida would celebrate when it became official.

The Mayor also mentioned a community member who had walked 100 kilometers, starting Friday evening and finishing Saturday night after 27 hours. The fastest person had completed it in about 18 and a half hours. The Mayor wondered whether he should train for a year and try it next year. Ritesh immediately said he should. It would motivate people like us to exercise more and pursue our hobbies. This is Ritesh’s way sometimes: he sees one person’s challenge not only as personal achievement but as something that can pull others forward.

Then sugar returned through marriage.

Abdullah had said that in Syria, if someone avoids sugar or bread, people may ask if they are getting married soon. It applies more to women, but also to men. The Mayor turned to Ritesh, who had been married around 14 or 15 months, and gently observed that he had become a little fuller since enjoying his wife’s cooking. Ritesh did not resist. He said he was trying to reduce his weight and walk more. When he was at home with his parents, his mother kept giving him things to eat, especially sweet things, because from childhood she knew he loved sweets. In their house they had buffaloes and cows, and milk was given with jaggery or sugar. His wife tried to control this, but there was always a conflict. His mother insisted; his wife resisted briefly; then she had to give up. Ritesh asked his wife to respect his mother’s wishes. Now back in Bangalore, he had time to work on his health. He had gained maybe five or six kilos since marriage.

There was something very Indian in this, but also very universal. Food is love, control, memory, authority, marriage, childhood, and health all mixed together. One side is mother’s care. Other side is wife’s concern. One side is tradition and affection. Other side is discipline and future health. Nobody is fully wrong, but the body still carries the result.

The Mayor suggested a Brida motivational fitness programme. Abdullah said it would motivate him, but he did not think he could do it. Sugar was too addictive. Reducing it would take willpower. Ismar gave advice, but in his usual way, more like a sentence from experience than a motivational speech: we are today the result of what we did yesterday, and tomorrow will be the result of today. He said sugar is known as a catalyst for cancer, and reducing it can reduce risk. It was a scary thought, but he did not use fear only. He said sweets are delicious, so it is not easy. Maybe one can make an agreement with oneself: not every day, perhaps one or two days a week, then reduce from time to time until reaching a reasonable amount. Not easy, but necessary to try.

Abdullah began to think in steps: first reduce half the sugar in tea, then reduce bread. Ritesh explained that at home in Bangalore, his wife controls many things. They try not to make sugary tea or coffee. But Indian sweet dishes like payasam or sevai still happen weekly, and they need sugar. At the office, lunch is free, and weekly sweets are provided. Also colleagues share food from their plate. If someone gives half a sweet, saying no becomes difficult. We understood this too. Health is not only in the kitchen. It is in politeness, in friendship, in not wanting to reject someone’s gesture.

Then obesity came into the conversation. Ismar said Brazil does have a problem, not as severe as the United States, but many fat people, especially young people. He did not know of public awareness campaigns. In supermarkets, he sees carts filled with bottles of soft drinks and packets of salty snacks like Cheetos, and he asks himself why people consume so much of this kind of food. Abdullah said obesity is not a big problem in Syria, especially for people who have to walk a lot. People who sit for long hours are more likely to become obese. Teachers, he said, are usually not obese; people who sit in supermarkets or at computers may be. The Mayor suggested Syria’s future could be rebuilt around walking and cycling. Abdullah said it was a good idea theoretically, but they do not have bike lanes.

Ritesh said India does have an obesity problem, especially in big cities like Bangalore, Mumbai, and Delhi. In the park in the morning, he sees many people with bellies and visceral fat, whether 60-plus or around 30 like him. In villages, especially his native place, older people are less obese because they work physically and can walk two or five kilometers if needed. The younger generation will take a bike even for one kilometer. He said children are also facing this issue. There is no strong government programme, though there is social media activism. For IT workers in metro cities, the problem is sitting eight or nine hours with only small breaks. He also mentioned food labelling problems in India, saying labels are not always accurately presented.

Then we turned toward European food from outside eyes. Ismar said he sees European food in general as healthy, and French gastronomy as famous around the world. But he also thought of German greasy meats, beer, and wine, and European countries drinking a lot of wine. Abdullah said his uncle lives in Germany and has German nationality, so he hears about obesity there, and about chocolate, German or Swiss. France, for him, brings images of different breads and small portions in restaurants, maybe media stereotypes: a tiny amount of food placed beautifully on the plate. The Mayor corrected the image gently. Not everyone in France sits in a café in the morning with red wine, cigarette, croissant, and coffee. Many people eat cornflakes and ordinary cereals like everyone else.

Ritesh spoke from the Indian lens. For him, Western food often feels like it has no taste. It may be eaten for energy, health, or nutrition, but in India food must give pleasure. A potato cannot just be a potato. It needs salt, spices, curry, something that makes it food. He gave the example of his diabetic mother. They tell her not to eat sugary things, but she says she is not getting the taste of eating. This is not only her. In India, food is taste, pleasure, satisfaction, not only nutritional value. He also said Western food in Indian restaurants often feels overpriced. People pay more for the experience than the actual value of the food. A small dish with leaves and presentation becomes expensive.

The Mayor connected this to high-end dining, Michelin-star chefs, tiny portions, marketing, and food as lifestyle experience. Then he moved to affordability. In some places, unhealthy processed food is cheaper than fresh produce. Ismar said in Brazil natural food is more expensive than industrialized food, and organic food is even more expensive. The typical Brazilian lunch is rice, beans, and meat, but poor people do not eat meat every day. Some eat rice and beans, or rice, or eggs. Even though Brazil is one of the world’s big meat producers, meat is not affordable for everyone. A kilo of first-class meat may cost around six or seven or eight US dollars, and better cuts are for richer people. For someone earning minimum salary, especially with a family, meat every day is not possible. Ismar supposed producers control the price. He said government attempts to fix prices during high inflation decades ago did not work. In Brazil, he said, that kind of system does not work.

In Syria, Abdullah said healthy eating is not affordable for many. Bread is central. By the time of our conversation, he had eaten four Syrian flatbreads, maybe 200 or 300 grams in total. For lunch he had a cheese sandwich. Dinner would probably be rice with something. Fruits and vegetables are expensive. In the last few months, maybe things have become easier for some people, but not simply. Then Abdullah had to leave because the meeting had been expected at a different time. He thanked us and said he enjoyed the conversation. We felt that his windowless room, his 35-degree Aleppo afternoon, his bread, his students, his sugar, and his honesty had all become part of our table.

At the end, Ritesh spoke about affordability in India. For him and his wife, food is manageable because his family produces food. But India, he said, is a protein-deficit country. In the north, many do not eat cow or buffalo. Some eat goat, chicken, or eggs, but many are vegetarian and do not eat eggs. People depend mainly on pulses for protein, which are cheaper and available, but many still do not eat what the body actually requires. The stomach may be full, but nutrients may not be enough. That line stayed with us: full stomach, not full nutrition.

By then the connection was lagging, and we were tired in different time zones. Ritesh needed to go and enjoy his wife’s cooking. Ismar had his day ahead of him. The Mayor promised to report back on his Indian cooking experience after Saturday. Next week would be social balance.

When we left, we had not solved health and lifestyle balance. Of course not. How could we? Brazil has its supermarkets and expensive meat. Syria has heat, bread, and expensive vegetables. India has taste, family pressure, traffic, IT work, and protein questions. France has gastronomy, cornflakes, and a man wondering whether he should walk 100 kilometers next year.

But maybe we understood something. Health is not just willpower. It is culture, economy, weather, work, family, algorithms, politeness, childhood, and what is available in the shop when money is low. It is also friendship, because sometimes someone like Ismar says, reduce slowly. Someone like Abdullah says, maybe I can start with half the sugar. Someone like Ritesh says, you should try the 100 kilometers because it will motivate us. And someone like The Mayor keeps the lighthouse visible while letting the conversation go where life takes it.

We came from four countries, but we did not sit as representatives of countries only. We sat as people with bodies, habits, cravings, jokes, worries, and small hopes. Maybe that is already a kind of balance.