PTSD

all it needed was us to link arms and sing Kumbaya

Spent all day today in an Irish pub, watching Sri Lanka play Bangladesh in the cricket world cup final (played in Barbados). The place was packed with folks from South Asia, the Carribean, Australians and the English.

Highlights? A TUWSNBN professor (who bought all our drinks so is rated pretty high now) singing songs and other folks joining in. Realising later on that he didn't actually understand what the words meant but still knew them perfectly well.

The Australian cricket team--most of whom I remember seeing from over a decade ago--winning their 3rd World Cup in a row.

My being the only person on our side of the pub supporting (bloody annoying but rather endearing at times) Australia.

My usually quiet (Kiwi) flatmate pointing out the flaws of Aussies overseas by saying: Oh, I thought I only got annoyed with them when I was at home but they are equally annoying overseas too (very true with the lot who were at that pub)

Being given a bottle of Scotch by the Sri Lankan ambassador. Really.*


Came home to discuss said match with folks at home in Nepal (whom I've not seen in person for two years and miss them, dammit) who watched the same match, sitting at home in Nepal and catching it on a) BBC World Service (Radio) or b) Star TV (cable channel owned by Rupert Murdoch).

Yesterday night, heard Nepali being spoken on the crowded train. Introduced myself and realised the kids were friends of my sister (the one in Kiwiland) and had gone to the same school. Now, what are the chances of that?

Before the cricket, watched Liverpool lose, while sharing memories of Michael Owen from ten years ago with the only non cricket-watching person at the pub.


* I wasn't the recepient but our entire table of people was. For the loudest cheering. Though I think they may have given it to us just to stop the singing.

posted by Priya @ 7:54 PM