Saturday, June 21, 2008

I get by with a little help from my (new) friends.

You meet the nicest people in the laundry room. Thursday night I met a sweet girl from Taiwan. Her "American name" is Rita. She's 17 years old and traveled here to study English. 

When I asked Rita if she'd been to other countries outside Taiwan, she she replied, "A few. Australia, Japan, Switzerland, England, France, Bosnia, and Germany." Rita and her class were set to visit the Mall of America on Friday. I told her I understood it's pretty easy on the bus. She smiled a little and said, "Yes, but I've never been on a bus."

At breakfast this morning, I saw a couple of friendly-looking students and asked if I could join them. Bree (an international studies major from Milwaukee) and Lance (a business major from Chicago) welcomed me to sit with them. Bree just returned to the states from studying Afro-Latina culture in Ecuador. (Note: I'm kicking myself for not pursuing international study as an undergrad. I'm amazed at how the millennial generation gets around!)

Bree and Lance are not excited about the "rugrat" tennis players who've been staying in the dorm. Both seem very serious about their studies and planned to hit the books all day today and tomorrow.

Lisa and Dave, my sister and brother-in-law, took me to dinner at a great cafe tucked into the city's Prospect Park neighborhood. Lisa is a loan analyst for Bremer Bank, Dave is a judge in Brainerd, Minnesota, where they've lived for many years. We met up with two of their friends; Bob, a legislative consultant on AIDS and domestic violence issues, and his partner Bill, an assistant professor in the University's plant physiology department.

The common bond among these four and myself is that we all love Springsteen. Bob and BIll will see his show in Barcelona in July. The dinner reminded me of college...talking politics, music and movies, laughing and drinking wine (though this wine bore little resemblance to the Gallo--or worse-- we used to buy).

1 comment:

Liza Jane said...

Another common bond with the Saturday night dinner group: We are all smart. Or was it that we are all smart alecks? Whatever.