Stereotypes and All the Truth behind Them

By: Monica

Here, at my University, 90% of East Indian students are Pre-Med. 90% of the Chinese students are Business Majors. The other 10% are either Pre-Med or Music Performance Majors. These truthful stereotypes are not the only ones taking effect here. They are not all academically oriented either. Just last night, at two in the morning, a group of drunken Russians came knocking on my door. One was intoxicated more than the others, and proclaimed his love for me. “You will never forget me or this night!” he yelled, while attempting to stare deeply into my eyes. It was quite romantic (if you like that kind of thing. You know, the thing where your boyfriend is only in love with you when he’s drunk). By this time, his friends were already apologizing profusely for his behavior and were attempting to drag him away. He still managed to yell back, “Will you forget me?!” as his friend had a hold on his waist. “Probably not!” I replied, going with the flow. It’s not every day that such an event happens in my life. Might as well play along. While closing the door, I overheard one of them say, “She’s sweet”, which put a smile on my face, even if it was a bunch of drunk dudes in the middle of the night.

A couple of odd things have occurred since my last post. First and foremost, I have learned that the bookstore here (that plays John Mayer and Regina Spektor) carries a plethora of items not typically available at a regular bookstore. Items such as motorcycles, clothing hangers, and books about feces. Yes, there is a picture book titled, “The Poop Book for Adults” which illustrates the different states of fecal matter and what they look like. There are also books made from feces. Elephant feces, to be exact. A stack of journals, made from what looked like eco-friendly paper, had, “Made from real poo!” written on the cover. This caught my attention and, when I turned it over, I noticed the tag, “Made from real Elephant poo!” The price tag read $25. I could not help but wonder who would buy a journal made of elephant feces for 25 bucks. Then again, people will buy anything. Who knows? It might be a booming market. Still, I think if I were Fareed Zakaria, I would be insulted that my book is lying under a pile of elephant dung. Even if it is molded and dried in a different shape.

I went for my advising appointment today and quickly stopped by the restroom. Taped to the side of one of the toilet stalls, a sign read, “If you sprinkle while you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seat please.” Kudos to the creative mind that put that little jingle together. It was stuck in my head during the entire appointment.