The Lighter Way to Enjoy Culture Shock

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken"

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Location: Boone, North Carolina, United States

Thursday, January 18, 2007

The following are strictly personal views/observations and in no way reflect the views of the Peace Corp nor the federal government of the United States.

Evidently, to feed a woman is a sexual thrill for Russians.

I was unaware of this fact until recently when I was at the bar with some volunteer friends, also unaware of this feeding fetish, when a gentleman of Russian decent decided to join us at our table. Needless to say, we did not invite him to join us, we simply humored him in an attempt to be open to new cultural experiences.

Between my two friends and myself we were sharing a bag of chips. Then, without invitation the Russian decided to join in the chip consumption after he had introduced himself. We thought nothing of it, since all food in Moldova seems to be shared property.

However, things began to get bizarre when the Russian began attempting to feed me chips. Initally I refused, because his hands were probably dirty and the whole situation was generally outlandish. But, the man became so insistant that against my better judgement, I opened my mouth and let him feed me a chip. Fortunately, it was a large and intact chip so he had not touched it much. Then, he wanted to feed me another and I consented. After he had fed me about three chips I had had enough oddness, and the chips were getting down to crumbs so there was a lot of hand contanct involved.

At this point, the man and I had reached a stalemate. He was trying to feed me the chip crumbs, I was refusing to open my mouth and neither of us would yield. Finally, he began to rub the chip crumbs into my lips and mouth area. The whole time my volunteer friends were laughing and taking pictures, thereby egging him on. After two or three rounds of him rubbing chip crumbs onto my mouth and me squealing, I finished my beer and told my friends we had to leave immediately.

Of course, this Russian man did not want us to leave. He insisted we stay and attempted to keep us there by holding on to my friend’s shirt sleeve. Despite, his objections we managed to escape, and my lips recovered after three days of steady chapstick application.

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