Last Saturday we had a lovely, gorgeous, uneventful hike. And then the Asians came.
Now, don’t think I’m awful. It’s just a part of the season here in Denali. We start with Australians shouting “Oy, oy, oy!” at us and end with Asians of all sorts coming with or without translators with hilarious results.
My husband and I were sitting in the common room of our current cast housing. I was in my gray, fleece bathrobe, contemplating if I really needed, needed to shower when a woman walked in. The cast of our show shares the building with other park employees, so I just smiled and waved, assuming we had a new roommate. But the woman just stood in the hall and smiled.
“Are you looking for someone?” I asked.
“Rainbow RV?” the woman replied in an accent so thick that if I hadn’t known Rainbow RV was a place, I would never have understood.
“Sure, go down the hill and turn right,” I replied, wondering how she could think the yellow building I live in that in no way resembles a rainbow and has no RV could possibly be the place she was looking for.
The woman giggled awkwardly, and we had a great time pantomiming go back down the hill and turn right using as few words as possible. Finally, she nodded and asked how far. We said half-a-mile. She giggled, nodded and left.
My husband and I both sat down, still shaking our heads at her confusing our camper-less building for an RV park, when we looked up, and there was another Asian woman standing exactly where the first one had been.
“Can we help you?” I asked.
“Yes,” the woman said and then stood in the hall silently.
“Can we help you?” my husband repeated.
The woman half-giggled a high pitched “oh” while blushing with her hands on her cheeks.
“Check in,” the woman finally said, with a horrible case of nervous up speak.
“The Grand?” my husband asked.
The woman nodded, and we pointed and told her to keep going up the mountain.
My husband followed her to the front door of our building and made sure it was locked.
Now granted, traveling in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language is hard. A country that uses a different alphabet must be even harder.
This poor woman booked a hotel called the Grand and ended up in cast housing, featuring a picture of a penguin with panties hanging off the corner of the frame. This lady must have thought she was in trip advisor hell.
I hope she found the Grand and the wonderful mountaintop bar it has to offer. Still, I can’t help laughing at her sanding in our hallway saying, “Check in.”
As for the RV lady, I have no idea what her problem was.