by Azadeh Amirsadri
In 1977, I was a student at the University of Pennsylvania, majoring in French Literature. I was 19 years old and pregnant with my first child. I would dress in a long shapeless plaid green and black dress, tie my hair with an off-white headscarf, and wear Dr. Scholl’s slide sandals trying very hard to blend in and look cool and hippyish, but that look wasn’t really working well for me. The scarf at times became a long neck shawl and the ‘cool and I don’t care’ 70’s look became more of a loose colorless dress on top of my plaid dress, giving me the appearance of a field-working peasant. My sandals added absolutely nothing, except making me trip on the sidewalks.
I was an international student, in the process of learning English as I was enrolled in advanced French classes. I was overwhelmed by the size of the campus, all the city blocks it covered and getting to class on time during the 10 minutes I had between classes. I was also both fascinated and secretly envious of the female students who laid on the grass, wearing bikini tops and shorts and studying or just hanging out.
Most days for lunch, I would go to Houston Hall, a large campus cafeteria near Williams Hall, where my classes were held. I was in line one day, trying very hard to be cool and to fit in, and ordered one of the only few foods I could pronounce with ease: cheeseburger, hamburger, or soup. I would not veer into difficult sandwich names where I had to specify the type of bread, toasted or not, condiments, and other words I didn’t know nor could say. The lady behind the counter was working fast and after my burger order, she asked me what I wanted to drink. “Water” I said, or so I thought. It came out as a weak ‘watter’ and she didn’t have time for someone slowing her down. “What?” She yelled and I lost all courage and barely murmured ‘woutter’ trying to make it sound like the way Philadelphians pronounce that word, except it came out even worse than the first time. Terrified, I repeated it, hoping she could understand me. I wish I had thought of Coke or Pepsi or any other beverage I could pronounce. I really wanted milk since I was pregnant and believed drinking it would make my baby stronger, but saying “meelk” was out of the question for me, especially after my lame water request. Read more »