Foreigner follies Sunday~ Greece

This is a flashback to another only slightly embarrassing moment in my cross cultural life.

The hubby and I took a bus trip to Greece back in 2010. Crossing the border on a bus seems less harrowing. No international paper work for the car needs to be taken car of a month in advance with all the fees involved, not to mention getting international insurance, etc, etc. Not having to drive, and pay an arm and a leg for gas and a hotel made this trip priceless.

The White Tower in Thesalonika

 

At each border, the patrol officers came onto the bus and collect the passports and took them back to stamp them. This was a Serbian bus tour, my American passport was a bit of a shock to the border patrol guards, after gathering the burgundy Serbian passports, at the last seat collecting my navy blue American one. I can tell you, I got a few surprised looks.

Thesaloniki was the main city we visited as well as touring the mountainous region covered in oranges, lemons, and olive trees. What an awesome getaway!

Birth place of Aristotle, Stagira Greece

After a long bus ride up a mountain with serpentine curves and the look of the pacific Northwest, we arrived at our next destination. At the birthplace of Aristotle, there was a big gate to the ” fresh air museum”. It  was suppose to be closed, but they weren’t trying hard to keep people out, and it was next to impossible to steel anything. The objects were much to large and made of cement.

Everyone began to make their way in. They climbed, scaled, and hopped the fence. But, when I saw how small the fence was, I decided to get a running start and vault over it just placing my hands on top and throwing my legs over. An easy enough task for a person who had been a gymnast in her previous life.

What I didn’t know was the gate was broken and it just fell over bruising the inside of my right thigh. I should say the entire inside of my right leg. It was a monstrous bruise. The sweet darling of a husband wanted to take a picture it was so magnificent. How romantic. What a great memorial of our trip to Greece that could have been if I had let him. 😉

I don’t know how my fellow bus mates kept a straight face. I wouldn’t have been able to keep from laughing. I am sure it was like watching a comedy. Even funnier because it was a middle aged foreign lady. But they only seemed concerned. I would say it was well hidden mirth! The Tom-boy in me lives, and so does the accident prone nerd!

Aristotle and I

As the gate and I fell clumsily together and just after, I felt like I was in a bad travel comedy movie about the ridiculous American… National Lampoons vacation to Greece.

Happy Sunday Y’all

Dobar Dan!

 

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Sunday Comics- Foreigner Follies

I don’t mind making it known how silly I am at times. I am that way naturally, but living cross-culturally intensifies that aspect of my personality. I have no shame. really. The most recent thing I have done that you may find amusing has to do with condo life.

I have never lived in a condo like this before. This one is a walk up but nice. The issue that has caused the folly a.k.a. foolishness is that the doors all look the same, if you forget what floor you are on and don’t look at the number. One could easily mistake one’s own apt for another.

Yes, my friends that is what I have done. Thank God not continually.

Just last week, I was carrying my small heavy bundle of a munchkin up the flights of stairs. I came to “my door” and opened it. Inside everything was different. I had opened my downstairs  neighbors door. DUH!

Now, it may be important to note that they know my husband, and have since he was a child. They have been his neighbors for more than 20 years and their son worked in the states like my muz. Now, they also know me through the family ties.

Continuing with my story… I realized my “crawl under the rug” mistake the split second I opened the door. A balloon of embarrassment swelled to the point of popping within me.  Immediately I shut the door. Then, I reopened it to say “Sorry”. Then, realizing I had said it in English, I opened it again. I said, “izvini”. and shut the door, totally flustered.

Readjusting my bundle of munchkin I started up the stairs. The door opened and of course as soon as the neighbor saw me, he knew what I had done as I pointed to my apt above.

If this was my door, there would be no issue.

I am sure they think I am an utter dolt, but at least they are nice to me. 🙂 That is all that matters to me.

Dobar Dan