THE HOMECOMING
It was homecoming week at C’s school. The said school is set on Point Loma and is surrounded by spectacular views of the sea. At any given point in time, groups of students can be spotted in the coves, surfing. It has the reputation of being one of the best surfing schools in the country and from what I saw, that reputation is certainly justified. I wonder how much studying they get done though.
C’s friend E came down from northern California to attend the homecoming and a wedding. She is a petite, extremely fair blonde, with straight golden hair that just shimmers on her shoulders. She also has the prettiest colored eyes if you looked beyond the glasses. And those glasses are just a front. I bet she wears them to hide the razor sharp wit that lurks underneath. She had us in splits with her descriptions of her 88-year-old grandmother, who she takes care of, and the kindergarteners in her mom’s school. On being asked how the wedding went, she stated, “Oh, it was fun.” “ I have never seen so much boob on display for a long time now.” That led to a lively discussion with D giving us his protracted opinion on the subject, interspersed with glares from C.
We got to the school auditorium and the set had the Taj Mahal as its background!! There were also a few elephants scattered about to add to the ambience. All this led C to exclaim, “Oh, I am going to just die.” “I invited an Indian to come watch an Indian program?” “I will never live this down.” She thought I would die laughing at the variety programs if it was Indian and the students did not know what they were doing. The background was pretty good as far as backgrounds go, but the program could have done without the girl in the red and blue sackcloth. She fondly believed she was alluringly draped in a saree. Even I can drape a saree better than that. And no, being an Indian does not automatically mean that you are born with the skill. To say that I was slightly retarded in that aspect is putting it mildly, but I know I could have done a better job.
It was pretty noisy in the auditorium. There was a lot of squealing and hugging. People climbed over seats to hug long lost friends. I did wonder if I could go around hugging people like they were long lost friends and watch their astonishment when they couldn’t figure out who on earth I was!! That plan was soon laid to rest when I realized the whole audience was primarily made of White Christians. Again, it was one of the few times that I wished I was a guy. Per C, the women outnumber men in the ratio of 3:1. And each girl was prettier than the other. Phew!!
The programs began with the usual good-natured jeering and catcalls. But the thunderous applause that greeted the end of each program showed the pride the students felt for their school.
The names of the homecoming Princes and Princesses were announced and they all had to walk up to the stage. The girls wore pretty gowns and the men were all in tuxedos. They were an extremely uncomfortable bunch as could be seen from their demeanor. In fact, the guy who was chosen to be the Homecoming King, hung his head all the way until he got out of the auditorium.
The most startling discovery of the evening was that my sweet looking apartment mate was such a good mimic!! She does this really neat imitation of a monkey. She told me that she has tried the monkey chatter with every one of the guys she dated. Which leads me to think that maybe, just maybe, D was the only one who could live with it and hence the resulting marriage.
C’s friend E came down from northern California to attend the homecoming and a wedding. She is a petite, extremely fair blonde, with straight golden hair that just shimmers on her shoulders. She also has the prettiest colored eyes if you looked beyond the glasses. And those glasses are just a front. I bet she wears them to hide the razor sharp wit that lurks underneath. She had us in splits with her descriptions of her 88-year-old grandmother, who she takes care of, and the kindergarteners in her mom’s school. On being asked how the wedding went, she stated, “Oh, it was fun.” “ I have never seen so much boob on display for a long time now.” That led to a lively discussion with D giving us his protracted opinion on the subject, interspersed with glares from C.
We got to the school auditorium and the set had the Taj Mahal as its background!! There were also a few elephants scattered about to add to the ambience. All this led C to exclaim, “Oh, I am going to just die.” “I invited an Indian to come watch an Indian program?” “I will never live this down.” She thought I would die laughing at the variety programs if it was Indian and the students did not know what they were doing. The background was pretty good as far as backgrounds go, but the program could have done without the girl in the red and blue sackcloth. She fondly believed she was alluringly draped in a saree. Even I can drape a saree better than that. And no, being an Indian does not automatically mean that you are born with the skill. To say that I was slightly retarded in that aspect is putting it mildly, but I know I could have done a better job.
It was pretty noisy in the auditorium. There was a lot of squealing and hugging. People climbed over seats to hug long lost friends. I did wonder if I could go around hugging people like they were long lost friends and watch their astonishment when they couldn’t figure out who on earth I was!! That plan was soon laid to rest when I realized the whole audience was primarily made of White Christians. Again, it was one of the few times that I wished I was a guy. Per C, the women outnumber men in the ratio of 3:1. And each girl was prettier than the other. Phew!!
The programs began with the usual good-natured jeering and catcalls. But the thunderous applause that greeted the end of each program showed the pride the students felt for their school.
The names of the homecoming Princes and Princesses were announced and they all had to walk up to the stage. The girls wore pretty gowns and the men were all in tuxedos. They were an extremely uncomfortable bunch as could be seen from their demeanor. In fact, the guy who was chosen to be the Homecoming King, hung his head all the way until he got out of the auditorium.
The most startling discovery of the evening was that my sweet looking apartment mate was such a good mimic!! She does this really neat imitation of a monkey. She told me that she has tried the monkey chatter with every one of the guys she dated. Which leads me to think that maybe, just maybe, D was the only one who could live with it and hence the resulting marriage.
posted by newatthis at 5:01 PM
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