Wednesday, February 4, 2009



The air-conditioner in my room at dormitory called Mayflower started to groans. A fountain of leaking water very quickly filled the box and began drenching the carpet. That was the last drop in the brimful cup called culture-shock. Of course, I heard about the phenomenon called culture-shock. When I arrived in America, I waited for it to affect me. And it has happened.

On the first day, we were trapped in the elevator. "Extraordinary accident," says Mary. "Can't happen again".

Next day: Mary got stuck in the elevator. Well, I wasn't even surprised, when that same day we got into the Campbus and it wouldn't budge. The same night, in a bar called The Sanctuary, I was eating a pizza and lost half of my tooth. When we got home, there was a fire alarm - a false one. The next evening, I was playing tennis with Alan. Suddenly, the lights went out and we were lost in the dark. Today, I called Shelley, but the phone was on the fritz. And now the air-conditioner. Now I am sitting half-naked in my room with the broken air-conditioner. The carpet is wet from the continually running water. I am wet too. The repairmen won't come until tomorrow, because it is Labor Day. I'm very hot, so I'm improvising, using the stovetop fan in the kitchen. Just the way the Apollo 13 crew did things in the movie I saw two days ago. I am sweating and have come to the conclusion that I already know what culture-shock means. Culture-shock means that America is amazing, but also that it was built "only" by human hands.

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