So, walking home. I’ve been doing that for three months now. The Tiny Apartment is a brisk, 20-minute march from the office. And I save 10 dirhams ($2.70) by not taking a cab! Though it is beginning to get a little sticky and warm out there, even at midnight. May have to give it up, in a few more months.

What I am rediscovering, though, is how many guys in this town are out walking around here in the suburbs of Abu Dhabi City at, like,  11 p.m. and later. Quite a few. Even on weekdays.

Other guys (and it’s 99 percent guys) sprawl on the scattered benches along the pavement. Or even sit on the grass, if there is any. Just hanging. Talking quietly.

The last week or so, a guy from south Asia, it seems to me (Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi,  Sri Lankan) has been hailing me.  Tonight, he gave me a chance to hang with some fellow expats.

The first time this guy talked to me … at least I think it was him … was about two weeks ago. I was already past a knot of 3-4 guys sitting on a stone bench when I heard someone speaking in English, in a raised voice. (Though I didn’t recognize it as English, right off.)

“Hello! Sir! Hello!” Something like that. I kept walking. I just didn’t see turning around to go back 30 yards and see what one of four guys wanted from me at midnight. I was wearing Western clothes and was encumbered by a backpack. Yes, just keep moving.

The last week or so, I figured out who the guy was. About 40. Wearing clothes I would associate with a Pakistani, after being here for almost half a year. Always with another guy or two.

Two nights ago he said. “Hello, my friend.” And I said hello back, and kept going.

Tonight I saw the guy sitting on a bench before I got to him. I was trudging along, humming a marching song, and the guy piped up with, “My friend! How are you?” And I said, “Hello, my friend. I am fine, thank you.” And kept walking. I thought “perhaps that was polite enough.”

And he said, “Do you like Pepsi?” And I said, “Yes, I do,  thank you, but I am walking home.”

This part of the world, you always worry that by turning down hospitality you offend someone. But I don’t know this guy or his friends … even though there is a fairly good chance they are cabbies because scads of taxis are parked in the area. And when it starts to heat up, the guys who live 5-6 to a room tend to sit outside late into the night just for the sake of some space, I think. And maybe the AC isn’t on. I’ve been watching this for months.

So, anyway, let’s say it wasn’t something weird. I go back, have a little Pepsi with the guys … and find out the man who has been hailing me wants to practice his English. Or find out if I’m an American so he can talk politics. Or ask me how much money I make. (The most-asked question in Abu Dhabi.) The other guys probably don’t speak English as well as he does. The ability to say “hello” is a long way from sentences with subordinate clauses or in past tense, etc. So then it’s getting awkward, right? Yes.

I remember the occasional tales by other Westerners at the paper. About agreeing to hang out with the Egyptians downstairs and learning all sorts of interesting stuff from them.

But those were next-door neighbors, as I recall.

These are random guys who are about a half-mile from where I live. Not quite my neighborhood. Not someone next door.

So, did I turn down a chance to see what these guys are up to, in broad darkness,  what they are talking about and how they pass the time, and maybe pick up some cultural information — or at least a blog item.

Or is it something that probably is not going to turn out well, one old Western guy with several south Asians not quite communicating?

So, anyway, I guess I have to figure this out. Keep walking the same way and ignoring the “Hello, friend!” or just try to wave … or find a new route home that saves me from having to acknowledge anyone. Probably the latter. Yes.