It's A Small World After All

It’s been a lazy rainy day here, so what better way to spend it than with my online public diary forum?  Last night, after meeting out all together, the group was heading home via the metro.  It was then that Leah had a guy and a girl approach her and tell her that they would serenade her.  Before she had time to say anything (I mean, what was there to say?)  The girl broke out into song.  The rest of us stood around awkwardly as we watched the performance take place.  After a round of applause, we met the other people who were with the group. 

They were both Spanish and Italian who were studying with the program Erasmus that included University students from all over Europe.  They explained they were heading to a birthday party, to which they eagerly extended the invitation to all of us.  Well, the next stop was ours, but as we were all deliberating, the doors were closing.  I tried to use my Spiderman-like reflexes but to no avail.    The Spanitalians cheered, hoping this meant we would go with them.  Okay.  We had to reach a game-time decision on hanging out with the group of study abroaders from abroad.  Checklist: Were these people our age? Check. Was there an equal number of boys and girls? Check.  Did we have safety in numbers? Check.  Did we know exactly where we were? Check.  Were we dressed for a party?  Not quite.  But do you only live once? Check.  Done deal! So the grupo de Americanos went to the extranjero’s birthday fiesta. 

We met people from all over that were participating in this program—England, Italy, Spain,  Sweden… I think it is really amazing how we all came from places with prospective languages, but that we were all able to converse in Spanish!  I was enjoying meeting everyone, and have learned that all Europeans associate three central things with America: 1) New York  2) Disney World 3) Hamburgers.  God Bless America.  This was pretty interesting coming from people who wear the American flag on their clothes like it’s going out of style.  Better yet, they wear the American flag like it actually is a style.  I am all about patriotism… but it is strange to see it from people who do not even live in your country, and only know the apparent three cardinal rules of Americanism. 

I was just getting into a heated debate with a boy from England over “chips” and “crisps” when we heard pound pound “Policia!”    To my amazement, upon the arrival of the cops everyone cheered.  As in, a celebration.  As in, they rejoiced in the arrival of authorities.  Why?  Because according to them, “Ahora es una fiesta!” Now it’s a party! Oh Europe you have surprised me again.  Apparently, they always get in trouble for music and the police do not do much of anything other than make their presence known.  Turn the music dial down and todo está bien.   It was at that point though that we decided it was getting late and time to head back.  One of the Italian gentlemen said that Cinderella had to go home.  We all know my Disney obsession, and this Italian boy just called me Cinderella.  Swoon.  As they walked all of us outside, a few tried to dance with us while we waited.  When I pointed out that there was no music, they began to sing.  That was really happening.  We were dancing on the side of the street.  Double swoon.  My group and I piled into the taxi and said ciao!

So all in all, thanks to the metro, we ended up making some new friends, and I got out of it a new name.  (Karli proved to be difficult for some reason, so I was dubbed “Carolina” …good times never seemed so good… so good, SO GOOD!)  Ahem, but you may call me Cinderella.