wake up and smell the roses

How is it July? How did this happen? Oh snaps, I am totally not ready or willing to come home in a month. How am I supposed to go back to serving pancakes without stabbing myself in the eye with a spatula? I forsee huge readjustment difficulties in America.

Today (well, since it's 1 AM, technically yesterday now) I was sitting on the bus, kind of not in a great mood because I was trying to read an article for class and the girl in front of me had her music cranked up obnoxiously loud. Like, so loud, she might as well have had a radio on her lap instead of headphones in her ears. At Konzilstrasse a lady in her early thirties carrying a rose got on the bus and sat down next to me. We sort of smiled hello at each other, and I went back to my (attempts at) reading. A few minutes later the lady laughed and said "I bet it's pretty much impossible with that music." "Yeah," I said, "it's tough."

And so we got to talking, and I gave up totally on my reading. She asked me what I was reading and what I studied, I noticed she had an accent and asked where she was from originally. Turns out she was Persian, from Iran, and had been living and working in Germany for the last year. I asked her how she liked the country, and she said "It's hard. The language is totally different, the culture is totally different, the people aren't anything alike. Right now I'm a cashier at the local tech store, I need to find better work, but it's hard sometimes, it's just hard. But you do what you need to." "Yeah," I said, "I guess you do." And she smiled and said "But you know, it's okay," and held up her rose.

"Is it real?" I asked. "Of course," she said, "smell it." So I did. "What do you think?" "It smells beautiful," I said, because it really did, and I'm guessing she'd just recently picked/bought it, because she'd been holding it like a prize possession the entire bus ride. But as the bus pulled up to her stop, she stood up and put the rose in my hands. "It's my gift to you," she said. "I can't take your rose!" I said, "It's yours." But she was insistent. "It's my gift and I want you to have it. Take it, and best of luck to you." I couldn't think of anything else to say but "Thanks," but she smiled at me before getting off the bus.

Okay, so forgive the sappiness or whatever, but I was kind of touched. I mean, thinking about it now, I figure no matter how much life sucks, if you can enjoy the roses, you're pretty much set. Plus, sometimes there's a nice stranger to remind you it's not so bad at all. I've got faith in humanity, and I'm pressing the rose so I don't forget it.

Adios!