happy 4th of july

Dancing the night away, Happy 4^th of July!!

 

I talked with my mother yesterday.  She asked me what exactly I’m doing. I didn’t really have a straight answer.  Many things?  Few things? 

 

The last nights at my house, my host sisters and I have blared every dance tune available.  We have unabashedly pumped Beyonce, Usher, 50cent, Akon and Shakira into the night. It was us girls, my host mother, the aunt and a friend last night, letting our hair down and shaking our hips.  The aunt said I was actually good (yeah right) They asked me to show them how USA girls dance to Justin Timberlake. I’m dreadfully white and from MN. I cant dance, but I did my best and sent everyone into fits of laughter with my ghetto pop lock ‘n drop (or whatever the hella you call it??).  At least I can make them laugh, eh?

 

What did you do to celebrate the 4^th?  I hadn’t realized that it meant a lot, until there are no fireworks, flags, parades, and nauseous red, white and blue everything.

 

Our school put on a celebration for us; complete with 2 boys dressed to the Nines who entertained the classroom (a la Siegfried and Roy) with magic tricks and a disappearing sparrow.  Wonderful.

 

After being introduced to every child in the classroom; we were collectively asked if any of us knew chess or checkers.  Sally and I admitted to having experience in that area (*ahem* chess club 2 years torment winner…yes, I’m dorky.)  Little did we know what was in store for us.

 

 I was immediately surrounded by the boys; gabbering and laughing at me.  Through the help of (FL) I understood that they were taunting me, saying I could never beat their Champion Chess Player who was an 8 year old boy with a difficult name. Champion boy was pushed to the front; freckles, a hat pulled down at an angle, and a devious grin.  Sally gave me a sympathetic glance; she was up against the Champion Checkers Player, a whip smart 7 year old girl with sly smile.  We were both about to get our arses handed to us on a plate by kids just past the toddler age.  The principle informed us that the loser was required to sing in front of the class.  There have been great epic battles, ticker tape parades through New York, and the first man on the moon; there was an epic chess battle in AZ between an 8 yr. old boy and a 24 yr old USA girl.  The tension was high; my wretched singing was at stake.  Four moves in, when Champion told me I couldn’t move my queen and then proceeded to slide his pawn six spaces to kill my knight, I knew this was extreme chess; no rules, take no prisoners, wipe out the enemy, and win at all costs.  Things went down hill from there, with Champion randomly swiping my pieces off the board; each death accompanied by cheers from the huddle of boys.  Sally fared no better, with lightning speed, she was annihilated and left sitting with a gaping mouth while Checkers Champion simply gave the “I told you so, did you actually think you’d beat me?” look.  My bedraggled army of mismatched knights, pawns and bishops was lying in a pile next to the board; Champion flashed a so-cute-its-evil-smile and swept my king off with a flourish.  The huddle erupted into shouts in Azri of “You have to sing”; Sally and I were trapped. With no singing ability (I pretend to sing in church), and Sally at the verge of tears, I yelled out the first thing that came to mind: “Hokey Pokey, We’ll sing Hokey Pokey!!!’  The other trainees gave me looks beyond dirty; Kelly hissed at me “What are you doing, you have a chance to sing something good and you choose the Hokey Pokey, what are they going to think of Americans?”  All the children sat down expectedly staring at Sally and I; the room fell silent.  We sang the ‘Hokey Pokey’ to the incredulous looks of the children and Azri teachers alike.  The other PCT’s just laughed.  When we finished there was a moment of awkward silence. The poor audience didn’t know weather to laugh or cry at 2 coordination challenged (and off key) girls belting and shaking body parts.  Finally there was laughter, and hand clapping and much chatter. I have no idea what they were saying, but I’m guessing they were trying to figure out why we made such arses of ourselves.

On my CV:  Dances Hokey Pokey at drop of hat.

 

It seems like I’ve been here for such a long time already; I’ve somewhat lost a sense of time and days.