I must tell you about a sweet friend I've made in the past few months.
Let's call her B.
She has only spoken English for three years.
America is still largely foreign to her.
She's a FANTASTIC cook.
She always has a kind word to say.
Back in her country, she was a volleyball champ.
B has been coming to get help with her homework on Tuesday nights, and since I'm the one with geometry mostly fresh in my mind, she was directed to me for assistance.
I am not a big fan of geometry. Not. At. All.
Not any math, really.
When I saw what subjects she had, I wasn't thrilled. After helping her, I was.
It's fun to help people who appreciate the assistance even if the subject isn't your favorite.
As I've helped her, she's actually taught me more than I have taught her.
(no, this is not going to be hokey hallmark-y-ness)
Today, I went over to her house for lunch/study time.
She's from Nepal, so her cuisine is quite different.
B heaped a huge pile of sticky rice on my plate, gave me several bowls of soups and vegetables, and an omelet-type dish.
Mounds of food were heaped in front of me, and I was thankful that I had decided to skip breakfast this morning.
As we sat down to eat, B quietly said that she was going to eat with her hands.
I heartily agreed, setting down my fork and telling her that I wanted the whole Nepali experience.
She was tickled at my exuberance, and smiled as I attempted to eat with my hands.
Eating with one's hands is a messy affair, I tell you what. I felt like I was two again.
It was freeing to just scoop up rice with my fingers.
It was also more difficult than I anticipated. You don't realize how ingrained it is in you to use a fork for messier foods (of course I eat chips and burgers with my hands, but not rice with sauce)
B laughingly took a picture of me, saying that she didn't know of any Americans who ate with their hands.
I was able to barely finish my meal, due to the large masses of food, but it was so yummy.
For dessert, there was cucumber and plain yogurt.
I never thought I liked plain yogurt, but it turned out to be quite satisfying after all of the red pepper spices
(Did you know that I like spicy food? B said that was really why we were friends, just for the mutual love of spicy food. haha)
Then we spent a few hours working on geometry problems. It turned out to actually be a fun experience, like some sort of evil puzzle.
Then, I came back and got crack-a-lacking on the packing.
I realized I needed some things from the store.
Wal-mart was close, so I went there.
I really hate that store. Especially if I have to hunt around for something.
Remind me to never go there if I can help it.
I'm a target fangirl, through and through.
I don't mind paying a smidgen more for better service.
Among many other things, the self-checkout accepted the first bit of money I put into it, but it wouldn't accept this one bill. So I told the cashier. She took my bill and did the same thing I did, twice, trying to insert the money into the machine. THEN she took this 20-dollar bill and carelessly carried it around until she found her manager.
I promise the money was legit. I had just gotten it from my ATM. She was making me nervous.
I was keeping my eyeball on this woman.
She was not a happy worker.
The poor lady. Walmart is nowhere to work if you want to have a good attitude.
She brought me my change, and all was well in the world again.