Shared Spaces

When I am away from home, I tend to have less conversation, at least not the kind that fills my mind. So, I think a lot more, hence I write a lot more. I need to let loose :)

One of the things that I abhor is the girl who expects the everyone else to pay her tab. She walks around with her glowing skin, her bouncy hair and her glossy lips, swaying her hips to confuse her prey. I am not that girl. For one, I do not have any hair to speak of, plus I never wear make up. Yesterday, on our way home after a long day, which was partly my fault because I didn't prepare as much as I should have for this trip, we were discussing politics, the state of the Mexican economy and the reason for the mass migration of Mexicans into the USA. At lunch we discussed the hopelessly inaccurate portrayal of Africa [represented by Uganda] and Latin America [represented by Mexico] in American news. In the process I found out that one of the guys had actually watched a movie about gorillas in Uganda [so now Mexicans think we are all about gorillas and guerillas!] I am not the kind of girl who spends hours attaching false lashes so that she can bat them and have her minions fall at her feet. So, the last few days of financial stress have not been good to my ego. 

At lunch, I saw people whispering about the bill. My Spanish is still in its infancy, however, the language of quick glances and hushed tones is universal. They politely asked me what type of sushi I wanted and even tried to explain the various options to my uninformed mind. I offered an answer but my heart and head wanted to back out of the arrangement. I am not that kind of girl. 

The girls were nice to offer breakfast and I was glad. However, I wake up much earlier than they do. I felt a bit like a thief, snatching items from the fridge to make my meal. I knew that Ellie would not mind if I had a bowl of cereal; that Mimi would not object to me taking a glass of milk; and that Juanita would allow my to take some of her tea. But I am not that kind of girl. 

I stumbled into Marissa's lunch plans. She had made fish for one. She's a pescetarian, so fish is all she has. She, very graciously, offered half her plate and even made us a salad. I am not fond of the texture of boiled eggs but, for just today, I swallowed my pride along with that egg salad [I could hear mummy in my ear telling me stories of starving children in Somalia].

I finally decided to risk using the dreaded credit card [Ugandans are not fond of them. We don't know what to do with them]. I was not going to stumble into everyone else's meal plan. Normally, I am the kind of girl that will google her way out of a situation. I could quite easily plot and plan my way to the shops. However, today was one of those strange days where I actually asked for directions from a living human being. Ellie was so kind to walk all the way to the store and even paid for the taxi ride back. 

While I am glad that I won't be sniffing at others' plates with a longing look, I am even more ashamed of my senseless need for unnecessary independence. I should let people help me more. I should be a little more like that kind of girl [but not the make up and false lashes].