Lost in translation

Short Story by Hasan Zubairi Masud

19/10/2016

Hey Diary,

University has been a time. 3 weeks in and it just keeps on getting more and more. American Uni is bloody weird, like why do we have midterms during the 3rd week?! Doesn’t midterm mean middle of the term? So like, isn’t that week 5 in a 10 week term, not week 3. So yeah midterms took me by surprise. I got through the stress only to figure out I have both Maths and Physics midterms next week! So, have to start studying for that, grind don’t stop I guess. I’m still making friends here slowly. Getting closer with my roommates, they’re really nice guys and fun to be around. My floor in my dorm is also really cool and friendly. I was so nervous coming here from home but I’m settling alright and learning the ways of the American people.

There have been so many things to get used to. Like, why is everything named to be so obvious. A trolley is shopping cart, a bin is a trash can, a lift is an elevator… okay so that last one might actually be the other way around, but you get my point. Also why is there no ground floor? Only in like specific buildings do you have a ground floor but the rest, nah. America always has to be different. The amount of times I press the first-floor button and just reopen the lift is too much. Also, on the topic of lifts, whenever I say should I call the lift, ie. The elevator, I’m sick of hearing “Oh how is a Lyft meant to drive up the stairs?!” I get it, I call it a different word, I laughed the first time, 238 times later. My Neighbors keep on calling me banana but pronounced how I say it as a brit. They either like how I say banana or are making fun of me, but I can’t really tell. It was fun at first but getting to be a bit much tbh. Also figuring out what year a sophomore and junior are has really been confusing to me, as senior and freshman are rather self-explanatory those 2 have messing with my head. ALSO, big one. Why is football not football here! American football is not football I am sorry. The rest of the world calls it football, why do Americans call it soccer and have their own weird rugby called football? If anything, it should be called Runball or game play for 10 seconds every 2 hours. Oh, and Americans seem to be weirdly into cults.

Earlier this week when I was walking to class I got a flyer saying ‘come learn the American truth, free ice cream and pizza!” There was free food, so I went, and I was curious what the American truth as well. So, I went to the address, there were some weird Greek looking letters on top of the house. I went in and I was brought into a dark ass room with candles placed everywhere. There is some weird ass red symbol on the ground in the center room, and a table with pizza and ice cream on the side. I helped myself and went and sat in some chairs that had been put out. The club President entered wearing a pure white hoodie with the same red mark from the floor placed in the center of their chest. We were told to refer to the president as ‘Divine leader of the holy 48th order that wishes to smite all wrong doers in the eyes of those who defile the true lord’ or ‘DL’ for short. They started explaining the background of the club, how they came to America on the Mayflower, how they shaped American society and its values, and how they must remove all who oppose their one true and absolute vision. Honestly, it was fascinating, it was amazing that I didn’t know about this key aspect of the mysterious American culture, though I guess mass murder like the DL was describing wasn’t something you’d teach kids at school, felt far more college level.

Following the address from the DL, the members, dubbed ‘followers’, handed out these intricate yet rather dirty knives to all the attendees. They all had what was either dried up blood or ketchup on them. A baby lamb was then put in front of all the attendees. DL explained how entrance by murder was a deep cultural tradition, and using humans is just far too inconvenient. Okay Diary, I didn’t particularly want to kill the lamb, but I also didn’t want to disrespect the culture of the country I was a guest in, so I slit its throat. The other attendees did not seem as concerned about being disrespectful and refused to kill the lambs. They were ushered to another room, the DL simply said they were going to get a talking to. It must have been quite the talking too, I could hear their screams on my way out.

Apparently, I passed the first stage initiation and was assigned a mentor called a ‘big.’ His name was Chet, he was the only one cool with dealing an immigrant. He said he thinks having someone like me was important for the ‘look’ of the organization and is willing to help me out as such. We met up for lunch yesterday and he explained the second stage of the initiation. I had to murder someone. Not gonna lie, it made me a little uncomfortable being asked to end a human life, other than the clear moral issues with it, what would happen to my Visa, I don’t want to get deported! Did you know that when you get deported, they charge for the flight you get sent back on, it’s wild. However, Chet assured me they have connections that would protect me, they murder hundreds of people every year and cover it with ease. Still wasn’t totally cool with the idea of murder, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do to assimilate. I was definitely getting immersed in the culture.

For the rest of lunch Chet taught me how to choke someone out and handed me a go pro to set up in a shower where I’ll do the deed. He also slipped me the knife from the first stage to use to cut out the persons heart as further proof of my act. Diary, America is so weird, but I think slowly, I’m fitting in.