The cruise ship is a great place to meet fellow Murkans! A lot of family members of Olympians are staying here, so at meals (we are fed on the cruise-ship mentality that all foodstuffs must be converted to human flesh before the end, even though we are stationary) we get to hobnob with people who know people who are sometimes someone. Tres fancy, non? Last night we met the entire family of one of the USA women's hockey team players. They were very nice and now Mary stalks them constantly. We also met some families of Canadian players and I managed to remain civil most of the time, although it took all my diplomatic self-control not to start a small international incident.
What inspired me to write this post about the Amerkans on the boat (a post about other humans at the Olympics to come when I can better wield picture devices) was my most recent interaction with a woman named Gloria. Mary and I settled down for our nightly food pump (in civilized cultures known as a "buffet") at a table next to a fellow flag-donning woman. At some point she leaned over and asked us where we are from in the US, and we entered into a peasant tet-a-tet. It turns out she is the head doctor for Team USA. As in, all of them. She makes sure when they crash and burn, they don't die. At least that is what I imagine. She was staying in the Olympic village but visiting family who were on the boat. What really dazzled me was when she started chatting in basic Russian! She had studied it for the past year-ish on her own in preparation for the games. A fellow linguistic-masachist! She was self-taught but spoke very well (I can imagine the head doctor would be pretty sharp, upon further analysis) for the handful of phrases she learned. She showed me pictures from the opening ceremony--she walked--and we both chortled at the silly outfits.
In exchange for a lovely conversation in Russian and English, she gifted me (common theme? Methinks da) with an Olympic pin! Thus we get to the crux and title of this piece. Pins are a big thing for collecting and trading among Olympic Games. Someone explained protocols and social graces surrounding the auspicious event of pin trading, but I tuned out because who cares about pins? No one...until they get their first one. To join the cool kids, I bought a pin at the US house in the Olympic park. The fever came over me and I started glaring at people who eyed my sparse lanyard with hungry eyes. Gloria (doctor from before. Pay attention, dear readers!) had now added a precious piece of Olympic swag to my collection. Will upload picture in near future. Seems to be a common occurrence, so shortening it to WUPINF.
What inspired me to write this post about the Amerkans on the boat (a post about other humans at the Olympics to come when I can better wield picture devices) was my most recent interaction with a woman named Gloria. Mary and I settled down for our nightly food pump (in civilized cultures known as a "buffet") at a table next to a fellow flag-donning woman. At some point she leaned over and asked us where we are from in the US, and we entered into a peasant tet-a-tet. It turns out she is the head doctor for Team USA. As in, all of them. She makes sure when they crash and burn, they don't die. At least that is what I imagine. She was staying in the Olympic village but visiting family who were on the boat. What really dazzled me was when she started chatting in basic Russian! She had studied it for the past year-ish on her own in preparation for the games. A fellow linguistic-masachist! She was self-taught but spoke very well (I can imagine the head doctor would be pretty sharp, upon further analysis) for the handful of phrases she learned. She showed me pictures from the opening ceremony--she walked--and we both chortled at the silly outfits.
In exchange for a lovely conversation in Russian and English, she gifted me (common theme? Methinks da) with an Olympic pin! Thus we get to the crux and title of this piece. Pins are a big thing for collecting and trading among Olympic Games. Someone explained protocols and social graces surrounding the auspicious event of pin trading, but I tuned out because who cares about pins? No one...until they get their first one. To join the cool kids, I bought a pin at the US house in the Olympic park. The fever came over me and I started glaring at people who eyed my sparse lanyard with hungry eyes. Gloria (doctor from before. Pay attention, dear readers!) had now added a precious piece of Olympic swag to my collection. Will upload picture in near future. Seems to be a common occurrence, so shortening it to WUPINF.
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