The Electric Bill...

I started getting sick Sunday night. I couldn't sleep much that night and Monday morning began the ritual of numerous uncomfortable stops in the bathroom. (Potty talk is not as prohibited here as it is in the states; it is just part of life here.)

I had hoped it would pass quickly so I continued with my normal Monday schedule. Now as you may be assuming the story could get gross from here...don't worry. I'm not headed that direction.

I spent two hours or so studying language with one of my helpers. He is a funny guy. I think I have thus far convinced him I am a heretic. He swears I haven't but he takes issue with some of the questions I ask him sometimes. I've tried to tell him not to assume my opinion based on my questions, but I'm not sure he gets that yet. (That's okay neither does my dad. He thinks I'm a heretic too. Love ya Dad!)

I knew I wasn't feeling very well by the end of my study, so I was going to run by and pay my electric bill before going home to go to bed. Boy was I mistaken. I've been to pay the bill before and there has never been a line. Monday it looked more as I expected the first time. What was weird is others who entered after me seemed shocked by the number of people there too. There was a line of some sort...come to find out there were actually three. I was pointed to where I should stand and began to wait.

Processes here work differently than in the states. Although standing in line to pay a bill does remind me of trying to pay a bill at Baylor. One big difference is the line part. They just don't get it. Lines are more like a stretched out glob. And once you get to the front it doesn't matter who was behind who, it becomes all about who has the longest arms. He/she gets to stick his papers closer to the attendant's nose and therefore gets taken care of first.

There had been a man in an interesting ensemble roaming around working the crowd the whole time. He was balding, and wore thick glasses. His blue shirt hadn't been ironed (It looked worse than I usually do.). His pants almost matched the color of his tie; they were sort of a reddish orange...I think. The tie was one of the thin kind from the eighties and was a bit too short. Now I am not making fun of his clothes, he was dressed fairly nice. I am trying to give you the mental picture. I assumed he was in charged based on a few things. First he seemed to have some idea what was going on. Second he seemed to be telling others that were working what to do. Third, he watched others work a lot...pretty common. Fourth, he disappeared for a few minutes and reappeared munching on something.

I had been in line for about 30 minutes and hadn't made much progress. The tummy was rumbling a bit and I probably didn't look super friendly. I kept thinking, "I should smile more," but it was quickly followed by, "If I hadn't already stood in line this long I would go home and go to bed."

I was doing a lot of watching people. It is pretty fun. One cool thing about lines here is they save places well. Multiple times I would see someone look to the person in front or behind him or her and say something. Then they would disappear; some would go sit for a while, some would go pay another bill. When they returned the person they had spoken too let them right back into line.

I noticed an older man a couple times. He was just behind me in line. They are really kind to elderly here (traditionally) and I kept wondering if I should let him in front of me. He had gone to the side to sit in a chair and wait. I noticed that he flagged down the guy I mentioned above. Both the older man and the working guy had both looked at me at separate times and made some attempt to apologize. I guess they felt bad I was waiting. I'm not sure why they felt bad about me and not others though.

After their conversation I saw the working man glance at me and then head to the front of the line. He started talking to a few people. And I thought, "oh no!" Then he looked at me and waved me up to him. I politely refused and again he said to come. The others around me gave me a slight nudge so I went that way.

The two of them moved me to the very front of the line. My stomach was thankful, but I was embarrassed. I felt dirty. I didn't want to be treated special. I wanted to be the same as all of the others. I wondered if the others I was cutting in front of were in agreement or angry with me. I wanted to crawl under the desk.

I paid my bill and specifically thanked the old man. I also tried to give a general thanks to all of those still in line. I ducked my head not really wanting to look in their eyes in fear it might look like I felt superior. I went and thanked the man who was working there. He smiled and wished me farewell.

Then I went home and began three days of sleeping, watching movies, and running to the toilet. You read that right...three days...not over it yet.

Happy Thanksgiving!