M was tall. He seemed a little uncertain when he talked to me. He had an accent, and I had no idea from where. He did not smile when he talked to me, he looked too preoccupied with what was being said. He looked straight at my face. It almost looked difficult for him to speak with me, but he asked questions, and he listened to the answers. It was November and he was wearing slacks with a sweater. He was quite thin and had a long face and long slender fingers.
His eyes were what I remember most from this first meeting. They were dark chocolate brown and very sincere. He looked honest and innocent and vulnerable. As I think about it now, it is strange how deceptive his demeanor was in the first times that I met him. I saw nothing of what I know now, save for the beauty in his eyes. Now that I know him though, he is not timid like he seemed in the beginning, and his humor didn't show through in those first meetings either. My impression was very one dimensional and uncertain. He was very curious though and even through his embarrassment he asked questions in a manner that no one from my culture would dare to ask them. He asked them in succession and as if he had a reason to know the answer.