boiling over

 

It’s not a good morning, I couldn’t get the air conditioner to work and even the water in the bathroom only ran hot. I can’t wait to get to the next place but I don’t really look forward to another day of hitchhiking. Dragging my bag across town to the highway a young man actually offers me a ride pretty quickly and he speaks English as well, but when he offers to drop me off at the bus station I don’t even argue. I’ve had it with hitchhiking, for now.

In Khoramabad I finally have a couchsurfing host. He takes me to a friend’s house in the country for an early dinner before we go to his house. There another friend drops by. A friendly young man keen on learning English he keeps insisting I go to his house to stay with his wife and daughter. I don’t want to be rude to my host but he won’t take no for an answer and my current host seems rather ambivalent so in the end I give in.

Things turn out pretty good. My new host is new to couchsurfing, he learned English by himself but did not have many opportunities to practice, and what’s more he makes his living selling fruit on the street. His wife, who unfortunately does not speak English and is a hairdresser. A very interesting change from the usual university educated middle class host.

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