Hold up your Trojans
Friday night I went to a US Embassy-sponsored Wine and Cheese night; these are a regular occurrence, hosted by various Embassy employees at their homes, which are approaching palatial, I have to admit (your tax dollars at work!) I met a lot of nice people whose names and placements I won’t recall, but there were two unforgettable moments, both during a game the hosts had prepared wherein Mr. R. read out items from a list and if you had these items in your pocket or purse, you held them up and got a point. (Driver’s licenses from Virginia and Maryland were MINUS one point, which everyone got a kick out of since many were transplants from the Beltway.)One of the items was a condom. Everyone roared with embarrassed laughter and, amazingly, the three men who held up square shiny wrappers with broad grins of pride were all members of the Marine security force, some of whom had been invited and mostly kept to the patio, smoking and casting a hulking shadow over the other guests. (Seriously—their shoulders were HUGE, to the extent that they significantly altered the physical space around them.)
I was so proud of them—go Sex Ed. for the armed forces! It made me happy, especially since they probably averaged about 19 years old and it must have been their first tour. Ethiopian women are, if I haven’t mentioned this before, stunningly beautiful for the most part, and stunningly poor as well: a recipe for disaster for all involved. A new meaning for “half-caste,” of Ethiopian and Caucasian blood, has evolved up in Tigray where there is some sort of training camp/base for US soldiers, and a growing number of unusually light-skinned children. Many Ethiopians are considered “white,” as there is a very wide range of skin tone and coloring throughout the country; but the "half-castes" are quite noticeable, as they approach a Caucasian skin tone but have amazingly curly, definitely non-Caucasian hair; a beautiful combination.
And then, the final question was, “If you are married, hold up a picture of your spouse; if you are single, a picture of your significant other.” Apparently, there isn’t a category of people who don’t have significant others, period. I looked around with bemusement at everyone rifling through their bags and asked a woman next to me if anyone were actually single or if that definition didn’t apply here (wondering just how out of place I could possibly be, besides being the only non-Embassy worker there other than a Catholic priest, and one of maybe eight people under the age of 30.) She said, “Well, there’s the Marines.” Ha.
posted by Margot @ 4:14 AM
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