Lost
Today I got lost! It was awesome!
I was going for a jog/walk/WOW I have been eating a lot of carb things, and I kind of just...went the wrong way. When you are in a foreign country, every way seems like a super good idea, ok? It also seems like a super good idea to forget your host family's phone number. And their last name.
So yeah, here I was, basically with the mental capacity of a learned hamster, or goose, or other simple minded creature, wandering the streets of Germany. I waddled towards an unsuspecting old lady on her bike, and put my body in front of her. I decided to say "HALLO. HI. UM. HILFE.", as if that would invite her to talk a while. She spoke no English (or more like, I spoke no German), and the conversation mostly consisted of widened eyes and strong finger pointing.
Eventually I made it to a gas station, announcing my presence with an articulate grunt, and the cashier took notice of me. I asked her something along the lines of "Um, where is my house?", and she managed to rally up a few willing customers into a nice round of "Help the Dazed American". Phone books happened, and some kind soul eventually found a street name and number that mixed well in my head. "Ja?....JA. JA!" I replied merrily, and the small friend group I had acquired erupted into cheers. I felt special. Could this be possible a career path?
Anyway, I'm safe and sound now, and although I don't plan on getting lost again, it's a good reminder that every German road doesn't lead directly to my house. Also, ein Pickel is German for pimple. It's great here.
I was going for a jog/walk/WOW I have been eating a lot of carb things, and I kind of just...went the wrong way. When you are in a foreign country, every way seems like a super good idea, ok? It also seems like a super good idea to forget your host family's phone number. And their last name.
So yeah, here I was, basically with the mental capacity of a learned hamster, or goose, or other simple minded creature, wandering the streets of Germany. I waddled towards an unsuspecting old lady on her bike, and put my body in front of her. I decided to say "HALLO. HI. UM. HILFE.", as if that would invite her to talk a while. She spoke no English (or more like, I spoke no German), and the conversation mostly consisted of widened eyes and strong finger pointing.
Eventually I made it to a gas station, announcing my presence with an articulate grunt, and the cashier took notice of me. I asked her something along the lines of "Um, where is my house?", and she managed to rally up a few willing customers into a nice round of "Help the Dazed American". Phone books happened, and some kind soul eventually found a street name and number that mixed well in my head. "Ja?....JA. JA!" I replied merrily, and the small friend group I had acquired erupted into cheers. I felt special. Could this be possible a career path?
Anyway, I'm safe and sound now, and although I don't plan on getting lost again, it's a good reminder that every German road doesn't lead directly to my house. Also, ein Pickel is German for pimple. It's great here.
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