Most of the International students here live in the Gästehaus (or “the Guesthouse”). It looks like a spartan version of a hotel– the corridors have rooms lining each side and it’s all very clean and congruent. The main difference is that there isn’t a generic replica of a famous artwork to be seen, and there aren’t any fake flower features or illusion-of-space creating mirrors. The floor is linoleum, and the light turns off after a certain period of time, so that you need to press it again if you feel like it– but most of us can’t be bothered, and so we stride “Here come the Men in Black” style through the semi-darkness.
Up until today, I had no idea who lived opposite me, and we coincidentally happened to leave our rooms at the same time to go to class. She was fumigating her room with Glen 20, and as I shut my door I addressed her politely: “Guten Morgen!” She was in the middle of holding her breath, and nodded briefly before locking her door, putting on her sunglasses and exhaling dramatically as we left the Glen 20 cloud behind. As she strode a little bit ahead of me, she murmured something in German and her sentence ended with: “Sandra”.
I assumed that she was informing me that her name was Sandra– it’s not unusual for me to miss long half-sentences when people speak in German to me– most of the time I rely on context to guess– and most of the time, Gott sei Dank, I generally guess correctly.
As we stepped outside, I went on to say “I’m Margaret, but in Italian it’s Margherita, like the pizza, or Marguerite in French?” She looked at me a little perturbed, and then shrugged as if if to say “Yep!” before confirming that her name was “Sasu”. We proceeded to walk on for the next ten minutes and exchange heart-felt commiserations about the heat and how hard it was to sleep last night.
After a solid block of talk, I asked her “So, which class level are you in?”– as you do. She cocked her head to the side, adjusted her sunnies, and answered emphatically: “Yours!!! We’re in the same class, remember??” I studied her face and shook my head slowly: “Naww, you’re not in my class”. I was 99.99% sure. Pretty, pretty sure she wasn’t in my class.
She stopped completely in her tracks, and exclaimed: “Ja!!! Wir sind!! Aber, du bist Sandra!! (translated: “Yeah, we are!! You are Sandra!!”). I giggled uncertainly: “Naw, I’m Margaret!”.
She lowered her sunglasses to confirm her hypothesis that I was, in fact, “Sandra” and peered over her frames. I waited, baffled. She stared. Then she frowned. Then:
“Huhhh? Ach so!! I thought you were Sandra, she is another Chinese girl in my class! I am so sorry, I didn’t see!!!!!” she roared with laughter.
It turns out that with the darkness of the Men in Black corridor, the sepia effect of her sunnies and the fact that some Europeans genuinely think that us Asians look pretty darngarnit identical, Sasu had, for the last ten minutes, believed that she was talking to Sandra from China. We laughed all the way to class, and she kept apologising profusely: “It’s the heat, it’s the heat!!!” we crowed.
After that memorable start to the day, it ended with a trip to the cinema with Nancy, Jose, Ariane and Celene. We watched Maleficent. Great movie, the highlight being when we spotted Zahara and Vivenne Jolie- Pitt in the film– celebrity kids spotting at its best. Jose, in particular, was totally across the Jolie-Pitt clan: “Was it Maddox or Vivienne?” he said, after I spluttered: “Wasn’t that, wasn’t that—?!!!!” and couldn’t remember Angelina’s kids’ names for the life of me. Good going Jose, nice one.
Word of the day: Entschuldigung, meaning “sorry!!” because that’s what Sasu (the girl in the black and white striped top) kept saying after finally realising that I wasn’t Sandra.