Being a student in a foreign country is tough. As social life and studying can be managed, money matters are often the biggest problem. I signed up to the university jobshop to earn some money in my “spare” time. Also, I like working anyway.
This week I’ve been handing out flyers in St David’s Centre in Cardiff. I’ve never thought it could be so tiring, boring but also interesting. People have made my job interesting. I like staring at them anyway, which may sound creepy but in my subjective point of view is much like an anthropological study.
In this job you are supposed to approach people who are running to spend more money (I’m still surprised how much they can spend on), people who wants to be approached because for some reasons they are in the shopping mall to see someone else face. We approached different kind of individuals and observe many as well.
In some cases they approach you. As the short, talkative woman did when coming during the Friday shift. She was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and carried a bag with her.
She pointed with her little, wrinkled finger at Gareth Edwards statue and said: “He should have been my husband!”
My colleague and I looked at each other, took a breath and said uncertainly: “Yes.”
“That was my dream, when I was maybe your age,” she told me. I could hardly understand what she was saying. My inexperience with English and her accent did not help.
“My father met his father … at the hospital … my father was a surgeon … he saw him and said ‘are you … ?’ and he said ‘yes’. He was very kind.
“I met the number 11 …”
I tried to say: “at least you met someone from the team” just to let her talk. It was quite an unusual and interesting conversation. But she went on: “I should have married him but I married an Irish.
“Every time I come here, I touch his ass and legs.” The lady laughed.
It happened that we were standing close to Gareth Edwards’ statue. Edwards – named The Prince, is considered by many the greatest rugby player of all times.
In the shopping mall he definitely attracts everyone’s attention. Kids stare at him with an admired sight, teens touch his shoes, women look at him with curiosity. Dads say:
“He was the best rugby player of the world. And he was Welsh.”
I like it. There are many things. The shopping fever, the hard life of students living abroad, the people’s voice, the rugby and the Welsh dreams. Very interesting.
thank you Artemide!Glad you like it, in somehow I guess is all sum up but yes, that’s pretty much what I encountered
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