Stringing my Life Together: Purishpa takini, takishpa purini.

Staying up late…
2009/01/17, 08:22
Filed under: Thoughts, Travel


Anyways, yes, I am 24 years old today (Jan 16th….when I started the post).  It’s crazy…17,18,19 years old…they all seem so recent…and I don’t feel much different than I did even in high school.  I refuse to think I am old.  The day went pretty well…plenty of birthday wishes…class…Erhu lesson (which I’m enjoying!)…some cheesecake and coffee with ChingYi…dinner and time with Tara.

Tomorrow is the party, so maybe I’ll have some pictures.

And on another note…Gio and I were discussing over the phone the other day a memory of Berlin, and he brought up a good point.  Think of all the people (especially when you travel) who you see (but not meet), and without them knowing it, they become a huge part of your experience in a place…even influence your entire impression of somewhere (which is not always bad, but in the following case, neutral)…


Gio and I arrived in Berlin during our backpacking trip.  It was between 8:30am and 9am, and these two cops came up to us, walking over all jolly-like and teasingly went…”Are you LOST!?”  We weren’t really lost, but just adjusting to the area after a night on the Eurrail (the 5 euro sleeping arrangements…sitting on uncomfortable as hell seats for several hours).  With the help of the cops, we figured out the time cards for travel by train (there arent turnstyles there, at least in 2006), found our local train and headed towards our hostel.  I was never really sure if the police approached us because we looked completely lost, or because we stuck out like sore thumbs there.  Here we were, both of us below 5’7″ (me, barely 5’4″), tanned, dark hair, in a land of what seemed like giants.  This observation was magnified on the train when we sat down and realized we barely came to the shoulders of the Germans next to us.  At one of the stops, a man stepped on the train, DUCKING underneath the door to step in.  Clearly he was larger than the average German, but as I tend to tell the story….”He ducked down to crouch into the train car, and his head was the size of my abdomen!!  His voice was as deep as James Earl Jones’, and he had a gigantic can of beer in his hand!”  That is barely an exaggeration!

It was complete culture shock for us… if I did not speak in Spain, France, or Italy, nobody ever questioned where I was from, but now I stood out just by being short and morena.  I felt like I was ten years old again!!  Everyone kept staring at us on the trains and around town…not to be rude…but in a curious way, as if thinking…”where the heck are they from!?”  Most realized Gio was Ecuadorian and kept chit chat to 2006 world cup predictions.

But that man on the train continues to be included in our stories whenever we talk about our trip.  Even three years later.

I guess a parallel would be in this picture…I didn’t notice anything in particular when the picture was taken, but afterward, you can’t help but think about the girl in the fantastic, multiple-shades-of-green outfit!!  It looks like I inserted her, and she’s a female version of Where’s Waldo(ette).  I assure you though, there weren’t any computer tricks involved in this one.



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