Monday, October 4, 2010

Anyway . . .

My arrival back in the USA was the opposite of dramatic. Except that we have no home and no jobs. That's kind of dramatic in a derelict homeless sort of way.

I went to my uncle's house first to visit Mini-Fantabulous, she didn't even show up at the airport to see us. She was too busy being beautiful and graceful at ballet class. So after we dropped off our enormous luggage we went to pick her up.

That night we slept on twin beds that are mysteriously in the upstairs landing. There are bookshelves, a couch and two beds all shoved together in a trash heap formation. We slept at the epicenter of the trash heap.

Of course, since Little Awesome has moved 180 miles south, we had to wait till the next day to see her. We came down here yesterday. My grandparents house is filled up, so we had to sleep in the basement. Not in a bedroom in the basement, mind you, just in the basement. We made out pretty well considering I discovered my uncle sleeping in his underwear under the dining room table.

Sleeping in the basement was not a pleasant experience. First of all, there are five goats on the back porch. Goats don't sleep through the night, and five of them moving around all at once, some of them with bells, makes quite a lot of noise.

Then there was the cat. He was outraged and confused when he was kicked out of our part of the basement into the other, less developed part. He yowled just like a sad baby and scratched at the wall for at least a half an hour before giving up. Later he remembered the slight and felt it deeply all over again, commencing the scratching, yowling routine several times through the night.

The most overwhelming were the chicks. The smell of chicken crap reached our nostrils immediately upon opening the door. They spent the night scratching, peeping, crapping and flapping.

Aside from a few minor things, being back in America is not weird. I keep thinking I need to get toilet paper before I go into the stall, yesterday, I decided the best way to get across a busy street was to march right into traffic, last night when the girl behind the counter at the burrito place wanted to take my order, I just ignored her because I wasn't ready.

Also, I forgot what it was like to have people serving you who are completely aware that serving you is not their most favorite thing in the world to do. The people in the airport in San Francisco did not make it their life's mission to help us find our gate when we were lost. The flight attendant scolded me for going to the bathroom and getting trapped behind the food cart. I was expecting a profuse, apology for being forced to wait while she handed out her chicken and fish with rice. Instead, she was said, "It's a really bad idea to get up during food service."

Duh.

2 comments:

Sarai said...

Ha ha - awesome.

Flint said...

Cat and goat soup. Mmmmmmm. ;)

Any other reverse culture shock you are encountering other than people who aren't happy to serve? :)