Bittersweet

The young man dropped to the ground outside the airport without warning. One second he was talking, joking; I blinked, and he was crumpled on the tile.

As people came running, either to help, or gawk (we may never know), my friends and I pulled out cameras and started to snap some photos...while laughing hysterically.

NO, we were not being callous, ugly Americans...although to the many onlookers, I'm sure that was exactly what they were thinking (sorry). In reality, this young man was a friend, on his way home to the States, who had the misfortune to be struck by another friend's "dart" out-of-doors. According to the rules of the game (and he HAD to follow the rules...even if it meant missing his flight), if one is struck by the "dart" (an imaginary dart, no worries) he/she must fall to the ground immediately. The individual must remain here, until some kind soul "removes" said dart. There is no need to explain the entire game, nor to explain how I shudder at the thought of laying on the ground here.













A rather large crowd had gathered in the few minutes he remained on the ground. What I wouldn't give to know what the masses made of our idea of a good time...oi vey.

When someone finally showed him mercy, and he was allowed to get up, we said our farewells: He was sent on his way with an enthusiastic "golf clap" and echoing cheer as he stepped out of our vision. Now, when I think "golf clap," I think "marshmallow clap"....you know the one? Where hands never touch? So, for those not in the know (such as myself), this is actually the clap that starts slow and loud; but gets progressively faster and raucous. I'll be the first to admit we were obnoxious. But, oh, was it fun.

And such is the bittersweet nature of life abroad. In one short month, I have had to continue the trend started in May with saying goodbye to grad school friends, followed by June goodbyes to my East Coast soulmates, and those painful September goodbyes after a quick stint back in the Bay Area...here I am connecting with folks who will steadily slip out of my daily life until I take my turn next Fall.

Despite the sad farewells, I do rejoice in the fact that I can even call these admirable souls my friends. And, don't think for a second that we don't make the most of their last days...below are some images from the first "a dieu":

Goodbyes are awkward. So, this is our made-up sign to capture such an emotion. Because obviously our expressions don't cut it.







And here is evidence that there is life in a land without cable...or not, depending on how you look at it. This was the goodbye dinner dessert. We were mesmerized by the slowly tipping box. To be clear: when I say "we," I don't mean me...nope. Nuh uh.

Hey, you come visit for a month, THEN you can judge...