Sticky Situations

I don't know about you, but I love seeing other people's awkward moments. Okay, that sounds kind of harsh ... but let me explain before you judge me. I don't love seeing people stumble or do something stupid because I like making fun of them (although if you are a friend of mine, guaranteed I will, because that's what real friends do). I like seeing them because then I am reminded that I'm not alone in my awkwardness. The best times are when you see someone who seems just so put together, someone who intimidates you, when you notice them trip over their own two feet or accidentlly let a little fart slip (or 'brus' I should say).

I think whether you want to admit it or not, we all kind of revel in other people's awkwardness at least a little bit. (That's why magazines with articles about "Celebrities without make-up!!!" and "Stars go to the grocery store just like us!!" and "Which famous bums have cellulite?!" are in existence) Maybe it is connected to that natural loneliness we all share (see my past postings for more on that), the confirmation that we are human, all the same. 

Thing is, that more often than not people don't even notice your awkward moments, or if they do they often don't care all that much. (And if they are the sort of person who DOES judge people overly on those little slip-ups they are probably just super insecure themselves anyways or, like I said before, a good friend who is just waiting for a good opportunity to get something that they can hang over your head for the rest of your life.) We are most often are our own biggest critics.

That all being said, I have a couple stories to share of encounters with my own clumsiness. (I figured after my last two slightly depressing posts I should lighten the mood a bit to prove that I haven't turned into some sort of emo-island-dwelling-hippie during my time in the Solomons!)

Story numba one:

The barge: in the background you can see another WWII wreckage

The other weekend I walked to the "side sea" with a few of the kids who live here on the SWIM base. It seems to me that locals refer to "side sea" as the nearest beach area. The nearest beach area to us is about a ten minute walk away, through a logging company property where all the workers live as well. So, inevitably as you walk through the yard, each house you pass by more children join the trek to the beach and by the time we got to the beach there were quite a few of us. Being the only "adult" there (I put "adult" because I still have a hard time thinking of myself as one of those), at any given time I was in the water I had at the very least 3 little kids hanging off me . So that gave me a bit of workout.

On this beach there is an old rusty barge, left from WWII, that the kids jump off of. I figured that I should at least jump of the barge one time, because how often does one get the opportunity to play on a little piece of history? Now, there is only really one way up for me (there was another way but that way was a small hole that only a small child could fit through- not really an option for this lady.) and this way was to climb up two little logs that were resting up against the side of the barge. These logs were slippery I should add. For an agile, small, active child something like this was not much of a barrier, but for a clumsy person like myself it was a bit more an obstacle. But I tried anyways. 

I got about halfway up with not too much effort, but I soon found myself a bit stuck. So here I was, halfway up a slippery log, hanging onto it for dear life not really knowing what my next move should be. Meanwhile I had about twenty kids watching me  (the awkward white lady) from every angle, coaxing me in Pijin to get up onto the rusty barge. I remember thinking, wow is this ACTUALLY happening right now? But, I did end up getting up on top and I got to walk about the top of the barge. But, my un-callused  feet couldn't handle too much of the burning hot rusty iron and I jumped into the refreshing sea.

 

Story numba two.

Last Saturday, most of the SWIM base headed out to the beach. (It sounds like all I do is go out to the beach- but honestly I do a bit more than that! Promise.) We had a lovely time frolicking in the water and looking at all the pretty fishes and coral and we topped off a great morning at beach by stopping for ice cream on the way home! So half of the group stayed by the truck while the other half of us went into the shop to get the ice cream. The plan was that each of us would get a cone for ourselves and one for someone else.

Mikey

Now, I need to briefly paint a picture of the scene here. The truck is parked on the opposite side of the street to the ice cream shop. So, we had to cross the busy highway on a Saturday afternoon, which is always an experience in itself- remember there is not one traffic light in the country. It's also hot, really hot. The type of hot that ice cream becomes simply "cream" within a matter of moments.

So here I am, on one side of the street waiting for a big enough break in traffic with a ice cream cone in each hand, in the hot sun. Of course by the time I got across, despite my best efforts, I had sticky brown ice cream streaming down one arm and sticky pink ice cream streaming down the other. (I mean, its not like you can exactly lick someone else's ice cream cone, that’s just a bit rude) As I hurried as best I could down to where the truck was I could feel my lava lava (aka sarong) starting to slip and as my hands were a bit full and sticky there wasn't much I could do to remedy the situation… quite the sticky situation I must say. (Sorry I HAD to say that!)

Theresa got nearly as messy as i did with her ice cream!

So, now I'm awkwardly waddling over to the truck (in some sort of strange attempt to keep my lava lava on), while I'm shifting between  licking the ice cream on my arms and my own ice cream itself and also flicking my head in various directions attempting to keep my loose hair out of the sticky mess. (Ya, I had stupidly forgotten to tie it up. So foolish.) But, despite my waddling  efforts my lava lava still managed to come loose and start trailing behind me. It wasn't a huge deal for it to come off as I was wearing shorts underneath that by western standards they weren’t all that short of shorts, yet by Solomon standards they were pretty short. Of course though all of this occurred not only in front of everyone in the truck and on the street, but also in front of a construction site. Not surprisingly I got a few calls and yells from this. So that was a bit embarrassing to say the least. Thankfully, soon someone came to my aid and I before I knew it I was in the truck bed eating my chocolate ice cream pretending that the past few minutes had never occurred.