Lost in translation

I am in a new place with no friends. So I went to this barbeque party in an attempt to make some friends. But the only result of that party is this post, where I will describe a typical international get-together/party here. I have been to a few, and its very interesting how every gathering follows this pattern. The scene is an afternoon barbeque during a warm spring day.

German dude kicks off with the beer. Lets call him Andreas
Andreas: 'Prost' ( German 'cheers')
Everybody: 'Prost. Weißbier is too sour. Augustiner this. Oktoberfest that. My father-in-law's beer blah blah.'
This goes on for 15 minutes. Then

Mexican dude: 'You should try Tequila from Mexico'
Fernando( from Spain, duh): 'Once I had 20 tequila shots'
Hot Chick 1: 'I cant have more than 5' hahaahahaaaa
Andreas : 'Weissbier is ze best'
This goes on for 25 minutes (since all alcohol is now under discussion). Then

Hot Chick 1: (In summer) 'The weather is so nice and warm' (and what you are wearing is what is keeping me here)
(In winter) 'It so so cold…brrrr' (again what you are wearing is the only saving grace)
Fernando: 'In Spain I would be lying on the beach now' (summer and winter)
Andreas : (In winter) 'Anybody got some gluhwein?'
Everybody: 'Winter this. Spring that. Barbeque blah blah'

Cool French stud walks in. 'Hi.. I am George'
Hot Chick 2: 'I can speak some French. Jeblaah blooh' (I am sure that is the end of her french)
George: 'You mean Jeblooh bleeh'
Hot Chick 1 and 2: hahaahahaaaa
Fernando ( who HAS to say something ): 'In Espanyol it is 'barrrriittooo lola''
Hot Chick 2: 'barito' hahaahahaaaa
Fernando: 'no do rrrrrrrrr'
Everybody: 'er' hahaahahaaaa
Someone to me: 'How many languages in India?'
Me: 'Around 20 main. Thousands of dialects'
Everybody : 'Wow. Bavarian dialect this. Austria that. Antartica blah blah'

So those who know atleast two European languages run the show. The French guy is enjoying the most because everyone loves his language. Nobody wants to know any Indian words. Everyone learns two foreign words, only to forget them before they reach home. Meanwhile, Fernando has his arms around Hot Chick 1 and 2 and is clicking a pic to be uploaded on Facebook that evening. And wurst is ready.

Me : 'I dont eat pork.'
George : 'You dont eat 'cow' also right?'
Me: 'No, I eat 'cow''
Andreas: 'Indian curry very spicy'
Me: 'Yeah'
Everybody: 'Wurst this. Pizza that. Bretzel blah blah'

This is what I call culture small-talk. Something which is quite boring when done over and over again. I generally don't enjoy small talk. In fact, I avoid any kind of small talk like the plague. I love hanging out with good friends, talking to them, doing some activity like movies, or sport. I think I am good at big-talk. But meaningless conversation with the 'hi-bye' people is just not my cup of tea. I hate situations like eating with people I dont know well, or bumping into people in the store, or on the way to the loo.

Unfortunately, you have to go through the small-talk to reach the big-talk stage. Which probably is the crux of my inability-to-socialize problem. It is not because I don't try. The introvert in me just isn't helping.

Lets hope the situation changes. Till then,

Prost.

World Cup Glory

Every four years comes a time, when you pin all your hopes on your team to bring home the coveted trophy, the World Cup. And my team is Argentina for football and India, of course, for cricket. This post is not about football. Maybe I should have written about it during my depression at the end of Argentina's campaign. Anyway, back to cricket. Cricket is not my favourite sport, not by a long shot. I have even often argued with people about it being a non-sport because of the limited physical activity involved. But I am an ardent follower of the game when India plays, a die-hard Sachin Tendulkar fan and like most Indians, someone who dreams of the glory Team India would one day bring us. Nothing can unite millions of people and generate a positive hysteria like sport and in India, nothing can create this passionate frenzy like cricket.

It has been a long wait. On the previous five occasions ( I wasnt around in '83 and my zilch memory of the next two means I didnt watch them), all dreams were shattered by a couple of early exits and a few heartbreaking late losses. This was betted as our best chance, and more importantly for me, this was Sachin's last chance to win the most prestigious event of them all, the only achievement left for the 'Son of the Nation'. The three knockout matches against Australia, Pakistan and Sri Lanka had made me a nervous wreck. But India came on top and sent me along with a billion other people over the moon.

With Argentina disappointing yet again after making a promising start, and Federer and Chelsea hardly winning anything, I had made a resolution that I should not let losses in sport affect me. After all, people I dont know personally doing something beyond my control shouldnt ruin my health, right? Wrong!!! The Indian World Cup win reminded me how going through the agony of defeat and longing for that win multiplies the joy and sense of accomplishment when victory finally comes. The seemingly crazy dependence of happiness on sport may not be such a bad thing after all.

Jai Ho.