Unrestrained Laughter Instance #2

            One of my earliest memories from my childhood was of a time when I could not stop laughing. Every summer my family drove to my grandparent’s house in California. It’s a three-day drive, and we have had our fair share of odd experiences throughout these trips including horrible storms and forest fires. On one of our return trips, a certain incident caused me to break into a fit of unrestrained laughter.

            I was five or six years old at the time of this trip, and we were on our way back from California. It was the second day of driving, and we began to have car issues while driving through Arizona. It was incredibly hot and late in the day, and we were still a fair distance from the nearest town. We ended up having to pull off to the side of the road to see what was going on. While there, my dad began to play with my little feet; he’d either tickle them or play the “this little piggy went to the…” game with my toes. I couldn’t help but laugh; I was so ticklish! This, of course, prompted everyone to try and take turns tickling my feet. They made a game of it and I was powerless to stop them; it was great!

            Overall, I think this laughing fit had a positive effect on me and the people around me. As a small child, it kept my focus away from the car problems and the heat of the day. It also kept my older sister, who was also very young at the time, entertained, as she tickled me too. For my parents, it kept them in a good mood and the kids out of their way. It’s easy to lose your calm when experiencing car troubles, but thankfully that wasn’t an issue here. Ultimately, we were able to fix the problem and continue on our way.

Unrestrained Laughter Instance #1

Anybody who knows me personally knows that it’s easy to make me laugh; I’m generally in a good and I love to have a good time. There are even instances where I just can’t stop laughing, but they’re usually at the most random times. A good example of this would be the time I went to my friend Tyler’s house to work on a math project.

            It was our freshman year of high school, and Tyler and I were partners for a geometry project. I went to his house for the first time, and I met his family. They’re quite possibly the most straight-faced people I’ve ever met; they rarely smiled and always used the minimum amount of words needed to communicate a thought. His dad, I believe, was a retired Navy Seal and only seemed talkative when the subject of cars came up. His mom, in the several times I had seen her, said maybe ten words total. Even Tyler was unusually quite. The only person who spoke and smiled like a regular person was Tyler’s younger brother. After working on our project for several quiet hours, we came down for dinner. I don’t remember what we were eating, but what I do remember was the overwhelming silence. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I just started laughing for a period of several minutes. I couldn’t get a hold of myself no matter how hard I tried. Meanwhile, I could feel their all their eyes on me, judging me. In hushed tones, I could hear phrases like “Tyler, what’s wrong with him?” and the response of “I don’t know, Dad. I think he’s just… off?” I was embarrassed, and I could tell they were uncomfortable. My laughing fit finally ended, and we all just returned to eating.

            I’m not sure what induced my laughing fit, but I think it had a lot to do with the unfamiliar silence. My family is usually vocal, so I felt out of place in Tyler’s almost mute home. Tyler’s family is also of Native American descent, and I wonder if that had anything to do with the quietness. Perhaps it’s just me, but most of the Native Americans I have met have been people of few words, so maybe it’s just a reflection of the culture. I could tell my laughter made an awkward situation even more unsettling, and that unease persisted until I finally went home hours later.

Conversation Partner Meeting #2

Today, I was supposed to have my third meeting with my conversation partner, but Omar had something come up so we rescheduled for another time. It then occurred to me that I hadn’t blogged about last week’s meeting, so I’ll be writing about that instead.

            Thankfully, our second meeting went much smoother than our first; we both arrived at the designated place right on time. Strangely, Omar keeps referring to me as “ma’am” in our texts, so that was one of the first things I brought up. When I asked him about it, he didn’t seem to get what my problem was. Two ROTC guys walked by our table at this time, which prompted a discussion about the Venezuelan military. Unlike our military in the United States, the Venezuelan military is a disappointment to its people. Apparently, the military in Venezuela is used more to enforce questionable laws than it is to serve its people. Also, with Mardi Gras coming up soon, the topic of partying came up in our conversation. It’s called Carnival in Venezuela, and it’s one of the things he misses most. Omar says one of the most shocking things here in the US is how we party. He had seen movies like “Project X” and others that show wild parties, but he had thought those were just extreme examples. He said he learned otherwise when he visited The Lab, a bar close to TCU, and saw people wasted and making out. Things are much more toned down in Venezuela, and Omar thinks it has a lot to do with the fact that alcohol is legal to them at a much younger age. By the time they’re twenty years old, they’ve already tried alcohol and don’t feel the need to consume such outrageous quantities anymore. Speaking of age, he was also shocked that Americans can serve in the military and risk their lives at eighteen, but cannot drink until they’re twenty-one. I hadn’t really thought of that before, and I couldn’t think of an answer to that.

            He had to leave shortly after that. Now that I think about it, his family was supposed to come into town this weekend to visit him, so that’s probably what kept him today. As I learn more about Omar and Venezuela, I’m also starting to learn more about myself and the country I live in. We are so fortunate to have a military that defends us instead of harasses us and leaders who do their best to serve us. The opportunity to converse with people like Omar and others from the program is one that I’m glad I have.