Lost in the Woods

It is warm, very warm for you. You, who had just recently escaped the unimaginably cold and rainy German summer. The midday sun burns down onto the small wooden building in the middle of the Pennsylvanian forests. The sun would probably be proud of itself if it would see us sweat beneath those ridiculous fans, hanging from a decorated Styrofoam ceiling. Painted not by anyone, but by American children’s hands. Did the obese, hyperactive and TV-addicted kids sweat like that while painting?

Away from the ceiling, your eyes look at the plastic plate in front of you. A squishy burger next to lettuce and a cookie. The patty is vegetarian, no chips and lemonade – that way you ‘outsmart’ the American high calorie cuisine. But the sad rest in front of you does not taste better by that. Anyway, there is not really time left for eating the food.
Outside, in the airless heat, for which only the shade of the trees give some relief, the others have started already. With team building. You and completely unknown co-students – you are supposed to be a team?! And you can just build it like that?! American optimism and naivety do not even stop from tinkering social relationships. But those approaches and practices already exist on the other side of the great puddle, your overheated head realizes.

Before the balancing on ankle-high ropes begins and sweaty arms and hands merge and disband in a bizarre ballet, there was supposed to be lunch. Actually. And with enough time. But a bus driver can get lost in the Pennsylvanian woods.
The simple refectory starts to empty. The sense of duty would redden the cheeks of future employers out of joy if they could see that. But luckily, you are not the only one who puts taking care of one’s physiological needs above punctuality. You look up from your plate to the person in front of you. The waves of globalization have carried this self-confident, proud Indian to the academic shores of Pittsburgh. But her excitement about enriching her knowledge – in the long run – and rope exercises – in the short run – is overlaid by the unbelievable blandness that American food can have. Used to the spicy, intense world of Indian flavors, her tongue has to settle for some spiced chips along with her lettuce in order to taste anything significant at all.

Despite all adversities, the coincidence of meeting each other during lunch turns into an interesting conversation. In the middle of the Appalachian hills, a window with a look onto the mysterious cosmos of South India opens for a few minutes.