Making friends as an adult is a lot harder I thought it would be. In life, the people that have grown used to your quirks and insecurities leave. Then with new people coming in, you must quickly choose which ones you’d like to divulge to “make an impression” while simultaneously “not make a yourself look like a lunatic”. Being back from the Race has made me see how much I ration my transparency.
As unlikely as it sounds, I’ve been flashing back to when I lived in drop in center for street kids. Upon graduating from college, I moved into a drop in center for street kids in downtown Denver and worked for room and board for a year and some change. After a few awkward months of forgetting kids names and realizing how naive I really was, I remember opening the shelter and having the strange odor of not showering and the pollution of the city smack me in the face as a homeless girl buried her teenage face in my stomach as she embraced me.
My shirt became wet with her tears as she sobbed, “I had the night from hell last night…” and then she whispered into my chest, “…and I’m so glad you’re here…”
Her transparency still haunts me in the best of ways.
Fast forward a few years, I remember being in Romania on the Race. The nation seemed to be haunted by a veil of seriousness. Scowls from locals followed us as we talked to each other in public buses. Saying “Buna” (“Hello”) to strangers was often greeted with foreign curse words. Even when to a woman on the bus, she said in perfect American disgust, “You’re not FROM here… ARE you?”
Even with the country’s grim dour, I saw a light of childlike hope pierce the seriousness of Romanian culture. One day on the bus, I remember taking a seat across from Alin and Raluca. They were badly suppressing a grin. Suddenly Alin blurted in that muddy accent, “Supted de fapted de Chuck Norris…. HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
My ears perked up, “Did you just tell a Chuck Norris joke in Romanian?”
They both stopped giggling and gave sheepish smiles, as if they were waiting for a scolding.
“That’s hilarious!” I howled, and laughter washed over us. It was then I realized, I wasn’t ashamed that I was laughing at the cheesiness of a Chuck Norris joke. I was more comfortable in my own skin, and that freed Alin and Raluca to enjoy being teenagers. They dropped their guards of seriousness and I stopped trying to be the “cool” American. Together we both saw each other, laughing at the ridiculousness of American pop-culture and being serious for the sake of not feeling.
We were free, united by the laughter of life, bonded by the love of God.
