If we’re all being honest with ourselves, the opportunities
that the world has to kill us during the course of a normal day are staggeringly
high. Mortality is frightening though, and we try to push those thoughts out of
our minds so that we aren’t absolutely crippled with fear. Most people have a
limit at which the potential risk of snuggling with the earthworms outweighs
the potential enjoyment of a given activity. With apologies to you all for that
somber interlude, and even more apologies to my parents who might have to go to
Rent-A-Son for graduation this December (Kidding! I hope!), we’re going to take
a quiz on the danger level of this past weekend’s activities. Initial betting
is strongly encouraged; the status of my life insurance policy is currently “Don’t
Die” and someone might as well make some money off of me if I do kick the
bucket. Of the following four options, please choose what you consider to be
the most dangerous. Remember, there are no wrong answers:
1.
Horse race on an unpaved road
2.
Local soccer game
3.
Talking to strangers
4.
Riding in the back of a pickup truck
If you chose “Talking to strangers,” you clearly
misunderstand how study abroad works, and, for all intents and purposes, have
chosen the wrong answer. You will be taking Communication 100: Remedial
Communication Studies, Emphasis on Throat Noises and Mouth Movements. Everyone
else may continue reading to learn which of the remaining three choices is the
most dangerous. The answer may surprise you. But it probably won’t.
3. Coming in at third place on the mortality scale is
“Riding in the back of a pickup truck.” While this is very much illegal and
very much something I sort of think about not doing once in a while, the
convenience factor is too large to ignore. Sometimes our driver is even responsible.
Ok, not really, since we managed to fit 17 people into the truck that one time
and drove for 30 minutes. Ha, I’m just kidding! It was 18 people and the ride
was significantly longer. I’m such a scamp! But we’re all still alive, so no
one back home should get mad at me or consider taking me out of their will for
violating that “grossly negligent” clause we discussed before I left. Not yet
at least. There’s more to read.
2. In second place is “Horse race on an unpaved road,” and
it was jockeying hard for first. I’m
sure that pun made some of you wish the race had offed me, but the horse was strong with me that day. And
yes, I have been waiting weeks to
bust that one out, thank you for asking. Anyway, there’s not really much to say
about this one. Two of us may have raced horses. The horses may have run into
each other one time. The other racer may have almost got thrown once or twice.
Someone’s horse may have relieved itself at a particularly inappropriate
post-race juncture. Just a standard Sunday afternoon in Argentina as far as I
can tell.
1. The dark horse
candidate (still got it.) for this competition was the soccer game, because
Americans tend to associate sporting events with belligerently drunk, rowdy
fans. American games miss the crucial part of many worldwide soccer games,
which is militant violence. To set the stage, I went to a soccer game with
three Cordobeses (people who know what they’re doing). This was not a
Superclasico (think USC vs. Clemson), nor was it a Clasico (think Clemson vs.
FSU). It was just a standard league game, something along the lines of a
Clemson vs. Wake Forest, and the stands were only half full. Knowing all that,
I thought it would be a mild affair, even if we were sitting with the hinchas
(hooligans) and it was standing room only. I thought like an idiot; I should
have brought my riot gear and extra-absorbent nappies. Our tickets, courtesy of my brave,
miraculously-still-alive friend Emi, were bought from the mafia, which, I
cannot stress enough, was an actual mafia that actually kills people. During
the first half, a couple flares were lit. No big deal, I’ve seen that happen on
TV. Then someone threw a few noise grenades. Then someone threw a few more
noise grenades 10 feet from us. I think I was disoriented by halftime because
everyone else seemed very much unconcerned, while I had a sinking feeling in my
diaper. By the end of the game, I had survived 4 close encounters with the
grenades, and my head was bleeding from an encounter with an exuberant hincha when
we scored a goal. You’d better believe I’m going back.
Notes:
1.
Horses are fun, but I still think they’re some
of the dumbest, most terrifying creatures alive. Whoever decided that breeding a
breakneck tank around that much stupidity was a good idea must have been part
horse himself.
2.
The more I examine that activities I do, the
more I think I’m turning into a redneck. I’m only a Bud Light and a Confederate
Flag tattoo away from a full conversion.
3.
I swear everything is probably safer than I make
it out to be.
4.
The soccer game was amazing. I’m terrified to
think about what would happen if I went to a game that was sold out.
5.
There is no 5. I’m just happy to be alive.
No comments:
Post a Comment