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Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Good directions, no turnip greens

1. Two thoughts enter my head whenever someone asks me for directions: 1. I'm about to get robbed. 2. I am being asked directions. 

If the first, then I will surely die. If the second, then I either look like I know what I am doing, I appear to be a Cordobesa, or I am about to get robbed. And then when I do not end up getting robbed, my guard is not let down for future inquires, but rather, I feel as though I have made it past this invisible and unknown to others level of my speaking spanish objective that I have qualified as being able to speak Spanish and know the foreign city almost like a local upon "being asked directions." I get ten bonus points if I can tell them the shortcut to their destination. Let's face it, I'm still going to get robbed

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