Thursday, June 14, 2012

Esta Noche

HOLD ON because this is going to be a bumpy ride, and the road may be long, and risks high, but the adventure you are about to go on is totally worth it.

Necessary background information:
FOMO (n): 1. the Fear Of Missing Out. 2. a common disorder among college students, especially those of Ecuador Summer Project 2012. (examples: 1. Because of her severe FOMO, she simply had to stay up with her friends all night, though she'd not slept in weeks or completed a smidgen of homework. 2. Not even my FOMO can keep me from staying in this room, be it alone or not, until I finish this post.)

After we rested from our day at the universities, our team went out to eat. I sided with the exotic and ordered a hamburger. Then, we almost got hit by a bus and ate McFlurries at a two story McDonald's. When we returned to the hotel, the night was young, as were we. A game of French charades was in order.

For those of you who do not know what this "French charades" is, I shall hit the pause button and explain. You know how French toast is kind of like normal toast except way less healthy and way more fun? French toast is to normal toast as French charades is to normal charades. Quick breakdown:

  • Split into two, equally sized teams. 
  • Send the uglier team in the hall (note: This is optional, but one team really does have to go in the hall.)
  • Collaborate, and come up with three words for the other team to act out.
  • Bring in Hall Team player #1 and tell them the words.
  • Bring in Hall Team player #2 and have #1 act out said words.
  • Continue in a train until the last player comes in.
  • The last player guesses the words and people die in laughter as the original meaning is distorted into nothingness (or worse).
  • Switch team roles and repeat.
Got it? Good.

So we had all (menos CJ) gathered in Linsey's room and divided up teams when RING! the telephone rudely interrupted. Andrea picked up the phone. After a concerned look, a "Who is this?" in her hispanic accented English, and a giggle, she told us CJ was prank calling, saying he was part of a group of Indians (with a hispanic accent) who wanted to go dancing. CJ or Indians, the other party was invited to the room we were in to play French charades.

In an act of minor revenge, Andrea prank called CJ. "Hola...Vamos a mi casa...Vamos a mi casa a mi casa...Adios." Poor CJ, who was simply trying to Skype his "family," was a recipient of yet another call asking when he would be down, to which he responded a half hour and to go on without him.

So, following the instruction of the great Carlos Juan, we began the game. My team (being crazy rule benders and definitely NOT the uglier team) went into the hall first, when LO AND BEHOLD the gates of the great elevator split and unto us appeared what but FOUR young Ecuadorian men.

Quite soon, it became clear that THEY, not CJ, were the dancing Indians! We burst forth into Linsey's room, the Ecuadorians following hesitantly behind us. After a chaotic five minutes of laughing, awkward, and Andrea being close to tears, we split the Ecuadorians between the teams. They had heard us say the room number earlier and been encouraged by Jeremy's over-zealous "ADIOS AMIGOS!" that may or may not have been proclaimed in an elevator. One of the men was a new Christian, and was such an encouragement to us, as I hope we were to him!

Team 1 took up post in the hallway, and I decided that I should go get CJ, for fear that missing an event like this could leave him with a severe case of post traumatic FOMO. I ran up the stairs to room eight-bro-one(uno), and KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCKed on the door. CJ came to the door and greeted me nicely, while I tried to explain the situation downstairs. That lasted about 2.008 seconds before I absolutely cracked up. I walked into the room and collapsed on the floor crying from laughing too hard, until by some miracle, CJ understood that there were Ecuadorians playing with us and he should come downstairs ASAP, if not sooner.

Our words to guess were "greased pig," "discovering the Titanic," and "something else that Jenna doesn't remember." Needless to say (but say I shall), we did not guess them correctly. And by "we," I mean Jeremy. 

Our team chose, in retaliation, to make our oppressors guess "making fire in an igloo," "sphinx," and "hot dog fingers." Hot dog fingers went through a long phase of being an obvious toothbrush, but pulled out some clarity in the end, and was guessed correctly. I was laughing so hard I was crying. My teammates were showing genuine concern for my state of being. We followed by one round of Disney movie French charades: "Tangled," "The Aristocats," and "Jungle Book," which ended up being easier to guess.

And thus it came into being that four Ecuadorians spent their last night of vacation in Guayaquil not dancing, but playing charades with really loud white people. 

Loving it all,

Jenna B.

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