I'm always fascinated with the way creative youth speak their minds out, and India is one of the best places to enjoy this. Loud and articulate, with pointed affectations and lilting accents, young Indian men and women always need to get their voices heard. (Read my earlier post about their loudness.) Their convictions sometimes border on being opinionated, uninitiated (it still surprises me to find gender biases) and trivial (there is always something wrong with something—or someone). Call it hollow. I call it fun!
Last night's candidates showed up on time for their respective sessions. Impressed, I was ready to mark such timeliness as a regional trait . . . until the fifth guy failed to show up. Not wanting to spoil the interview momentum, I waited at the lobby. I left after an hour, seething: he never showed up and never even bothered to call with his regrets. The headhunter heard the fiercest blast of rebuke from me later on. Talk about speaking out and getting heard.
I remember a similar occasion in Haifa. At the lunch terminal, you turned and blurted out, "Bozos!" Only to see an institution member and his wife, among others, getting their food..."Talk about speaking out and getting heard."
... and the sweet smiles they gave me were enough to for me to shrink in embarrassment.
Were you there when I once strode to the middle of the dining hall, announcing David McKinney's birthday, getting everyone to sing, only to realize it wasn't his birthday?
That was another loudmouth act!
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