Hey! It’s Daily Prompt Day!
Stranded in a foreign city with no money and no friends…. ummm…
How foreign? What else do I have with me? Does anybody know where I am? Is help on the way? Is there a Starbucks anywhere nearby??
I’m pretty tough when the chips are down, and I like to think I can take care of myself out there in the big bad world- but there’s one thing I don’t do very well. I don’t do LOST.
I grew up in a small town- not like a wee village (although I lived in one near the small town for a few years)- but 35,000 people in a valley with a lake on either end and FOUR Tim Hortons just to keep people happy. I couldn’t get lost there if I tried.
I moved to where I am, which really, except for the part where I think we’re in a Special Hell, isn’t much larger than the town I grew up in- and after 5 years, I still get turned around and can’t remember how to get places.
On the other hand, if I’m stranded in a random foreign place, I don’t know how I could get MORE lost- sometimes it’s just best to find a spot and stay put.
I know just enough Textbook French to sound very entertaining to a French Canadian, and I know just enough Spanish to ask for another cerveza, tequila and “Esta agua acceptar para beber”. But beyond that I got nothin’. Oh, and some very rude things in American Sign Language. Basically, for all intents and purposes, I’m monolingual.
Now, if it seems likely that I won’t get arrested I could try street performing for loose change. Not that I know how to do anything particularly special- but say, falling down is always funny, I can fall down. But what if they just think I have a seizure disorder and call the ambulance?
The sensible thing to do would be go for the Consulate, provided I could find it. In the movies it’s always located on a bright wide street, just over there on the other side of the people who are trying to kill you. So I would have to make a run for it (in a serpentine pattern of course) with my passport out in front and shout “CANADIAN! CANADIAN!” and throw myself at the gate.
Or a church. I should be safe in a church. And if I looked wretched enough, I’m sure someone could point me to the nearest soup kitchen and I could fall in with all the other lost souls and hope I don’t get beat up and have my shoes stolen. Free soup and the company of foreign bums. I might not want to leave.
(I’m so glad this scenario only lasts a day…. I’m realizing now that I’d probably be horribly screwed)
Maybe I’m just stuck in an airport. Boring, covered in germs and filled with people just like me who are stuck there, on their way to somewhere else. That I can do. (that I’ve done in fact) I spent 16 hours in the Austin international airport. I made friends. I had money with me so I had a little more to do with all that time, and Texan people are AWESOME anyway, so I felt very much at home there- but still, If I hadn’t had any money I still would have made out ok.
Lastly, God Bless America. No really. Almost wherever I might end up in the world, there’s gonna be a McDonalds or a Starbucks or a Wal-Mart- and where those are, there are going to be tourists. English speaking tourists.
I fancy myself an amateur survivalist. I like to think if my plane went down over a jungle I would manage (although I would much prefer a forest in a temperate climate). But the reality is, just like everyone else I would probably die. Slowly though- I’m pretty chubby- as long as I had clean agua I could go for awhile on my hibernation stores.
In the end, I maintain that most people are pretty decent, no matter where they are or what language they speak. Stranded in a foreign city I’m still among people. And that’s one thing I am really good at.