The Papilla Monster

I was told I have a large papilla today.

I was running through the clinic, trying to find my instructor before the mad rush of PM appointments.  As I passed an older faculty member (with whom I've had very little interaction), he called to me. 

“Hi!” He said.

I stopped in my tracks and pivoted on my heel towards him, unsure of what to expect of this impending encounter.

“Where are you from?”

“Los Angeles,” I answered, even though I knew that wasn’t what he meant.  He was Persian.  I had been identified as a fellow Persian.  He gave me a frown-y glance, so I gave in and said, “I’m Persian.  Half.  My dad is from Tehran.”

“I could tell.  You know how I could tell?  It’s your eyes.”

“Oh.. thank you?”

“Yes, it’s your eyes.  You have a large papilla.” He attempted to demonstrate with his hands, curling his index finger and thumb together to form a quarter sized void.

My papilla is… what?  How do I respond to such an unusual statement?  He was not giving me a compliment. He was not trying to be funny.  He was simply telling me I was identifiable as member of the Persian community because my papilla was apparently the size of a quarter.

So I gave him the most polite awkward laugh I could manage and thanked him.  I tried to think what a normal person would say next in a conversation like this, but, at a loss for words, I ended up just poking at my giant papilla while standing there staring at him blankly.  “So…” 

Finally he excused me to run off to wherever I was running earlier.

As I was hurrying off I heard him call to me, “Tell your father I say hi!”

Persians.