Unexpected fortune

After some 15 months on GLOBE, I have been overly susceptible to cultural influences. I personally believe that I have grown and become less surprised by differences of actions and opinions. But 2 experiences this week has reminded me that there is still much to learn.

First, a volleyball tournament. A couple of CUHK'ers are particularly interested in the sport, so on their initiative we made a GLOBE team to compete in a recreational tournament on campus. After crashing out in the quarter finals, two of them asked me if I wanted to join in a 3-a-side tournament on Monday evening. Entrance fee was 2 dollars, but their were prizes to be won. Having had a midterm moved and wanting to spend more time on the the court with them, I happily accepted. Come 8 PM, I burst through the door to the hall, panting after having sprinted not to be late. Expecting to see semi-pro volleyball teams warming up, I instead find myself face to face with 12 or so blonde sorority girls. To the unaware reader, UNC sorority girls can be spotted a mile away by their pony-tailed hair, large sweatshirt, short Nike shorts, and running shoes with ankle-length socks. None of them are warming up and none are more than 5'8", although the 3 volleyballs and nets assure me I am in the correct place. Looking at the door once more, a poster informs me that this is a charity event for the pre-law fraternity Phi Alpha Delta, with the proceeds going to a scholarship. It is open for all, but that a sorority hosted it obviously scared away most male participants.

I spot my two Asian compadres (who stand out considerably by being the only male, non-white people in the gym), grab a ball, and trudge over to them. They obviously still have no clue that this is a sorority event, grinningly remarking that the lower nets will be a severe advantage for us. I look back at the girls and after hearing that some of them have never hit a ball before, I feel like I might as well leave now than waste an hour in an unfair fight. But it was charity, I had come this far, and my friends needed me. So I might as well make the best of it. Fortunate choice. It turned out the only other real "team" were 3 sisters who had been volleyball players their whole life. What they lacked in size they made up for in technique, jumping ability, placement, vision, and, surprisingly, powerful serves. We played 2 close games, but we prevailed in 2 sets both times. First prize in the tournament and 25 dollars worth of craft beer and a gift card for 5 to dinner. As my finance-savvy friend remarked: "Pretty good return on our 2 dollar investment"

The second experience was this weekend. A friend was turning 22 and his parents were in town and had invited us over for Cuban food, beer, and football. Afterwards we decide to head to a bar for a drink or two, but in my hurry to catch the bus there I had left my drivers license at home. In a student town like Chapel Hill they are super strict on under-age drinking, so no license = no entrance. It was midnight, bars close at 2, and I lived 30 minutes walk away. Most unfortunate.

The exact moment I realize this, 2 black dudes sporting baggy, colourful outfits (green and purple, respectively) with matching snapbacks (a cap) ask where we are going. After giving them the venue, the first guy replies he can get us in - no problem. I have had very little contact with black people outside the basketball court, so I am unfamiliar with their directness, the seemingly aggressive statements, and the fact that they speak with so much slang which, when being drunk, bears almost no resemblance to English. Memories of Shanghai flashed into my mind. Their un-shaved look, dreadlocks, and 200 pounds of pure muscle don't reassure me. So I politely try to decline while trying to keep everyone contained on the street until I could figure out what to do with my situation. But with the guy pushing and having no idea what to do with my ID situation, I thought "what the hell" and marched towards the bar.

We walk past a 50 person line, straight up to the bouncer, and after my new friend and him exchange words, we are ushered round the back of the building. Being some 12 people, the guy said we would have to go in teams. But after grabbing his mate and a female friend they had with them, he pointed at me at said: "You wit me dog!" He slung his arm around my neck, matched me round the corner, past the bouncer, and straight into the bar.

First night I forget my ID, a random black guy gets me into a bar. I was mindblown. I thanked him and bought him a beer, getting an opportunity to get to know him. My prejudices had got the better of me, and I was sure to make up for it. He apparently held a degree in electrical engineering (!), but was back because his younger brother went to UNC. He went by "JJ" and he kept calling me "dog", "homie", and "bro". I couldn't quite figure out why he spoke like a gangster or why he had helped me, but before I had the opportunity to ask he had finished his pint and gave me a series of intricate handshakes which I mimicked as well as could. He seemed to take a liking to me, because as he headed into the crowd he told me to meet him at 2 when the place closed to go smoke weed. I declined, not trying to push my luck any further, but he was gone before he heard the answer. I sat back down at the bar, completely perplexed, until my other friends showed up 10 minutes later, with a smile that couldn't be wiped from my face.