weeks. Popular culture just hasn’t been a part of our lives really for
the last 11 months and I won’t be able to join in conversations about
it. Here are a few examples:
I picked one up was because Marissa was squealing about how it was
regular-size, not half-size like the ones in the States that save
money. (Journalists apparently notice these things.)
back and we didn’t recognize half the people in the magazine. (Who is this Justin Beeber kid?)
The most recent song I have heard in the last month was Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ la Vida Loca” on Bangla Road.
shapes, but rather are now round balls. This is lame and I walked
around telling people about this, dubbing it news from America. It was
shocking to us all.
and on more than one occasion, I’ve called out “Hai-da” instead of
“Come here”. Hai-da is Romanian. Why is that still in my head?
We all stared and smiled too eagerly at them. They did not return our
smiles and quickly averted their eyes, never returning them to our
direction. I cannot imagine what we will do at the LAX airport.
out of her Starter black t-shirt. She cut it in half and then I helped
her cut it down the front. We dubbed it the Startigan
and I encouraged her in wearing this. Thankfully, Aubrey stopped the
fashion calamity about to happen, but we’ve reached a low point when a
cut-in-half t-shirt is a viable church outfit.
Here’s another instance of “This is not “real-world” acceptable behavior”:
On our bus trip to Phuket, I think the guy who handed us our blankets thought we were crazy. “Kap kun ka!!” we practically screamed at him.
Then he brought us a tuna sandwich. Then a water bottle. Then a JUICE box.
Then coconut-coated peanuts. It felt like Christmas each time he
presented us with a new gift. I wanted to call him Santa. Every time,
smiles lit our faces. I would breathe out “kap kun ka” and hold my new food item like a treasure. He probably thought we were the easiest-to-please Americans he’d ever met.
Then, at 1 o’clock, the bus pulled over. “Twenty minute stop!” a man
announced. Everyone else piled out of the bus, but all of us Racers
stayed on, confused, except Michelle and Holland. I was joking with
Hope. “Yeah, 1 am is a great time for a food stop!” we said. “This is
ridiculous!” And this is the part I get embarrassed about.
A man came on holding his ticket. “Uh, you bring ticket” he began in
broken English, “and uh, you get free foods.” Hope and I stared at each
other for maybe a half a second.
“Where’s my ticket?!” I
shrieked as I frantically rifled through my things. Hope was already
down the stairs (yeah, it was a double-decker bus!) and off and running
towards the food. “Somebody give me their ticket, please!” I
begged. I nearly knocked Jodi down the stairs as I barreled past her in
my frenzied rush to find my ticket. I’m not too proud to say that I’m
slightly embarrassed of my behavior in hindsight.
It ended up that the “free food” was either a Coke or two apples.
But hey, still free food! I took my Coke and got back on the bus.
Holland was there, telling her side of what she’d seen: a mad rush of
Racers running off the bus, then wandering with their tickets in their
hands, looking confused. Jen even asked, to no one in particular, “Free
food?”
