B.Y.O.B.

Bring your own bag, that is.  Who knew?  (I'll get back to this in a little bit)


Two nights ago, after the long travel day, I was grateful that the noisy boys in the room next to me were noisy in English.  It helped me sleep.  I was tired enough to sleep through the noise, anyway.  I never imagined exactly how grateful I really was for their noisy English chatter until the next morning at breakfast.  My hotel served a charming breakfast on the first floor, and I sat alone, munching on my cheese and toast.  I saw two boys, about my age, come up to fill their water glasses a couple times, and they looked really familiar.  It finally hit me the second time they came up:


They were the other two students from Iowa State in my program.  


We teamed up to find our university escort at the train station.  Although I would've been fine, it was nice to not travel alone two days in a row.  


So, those two boys, me, and people that we meet every day make up a fun little group.  We explore the town and talk at each others' dorm rooms, since there is little to do here during the day.  I'm glad to already be making friends.  


That brings us to the B.Y.O.B.  Today we went on a group grocery shopping trip, since yesterday was a national holiday and everything was closed.  The grocery store was really confusing.  The lay-out was maze-like, and there were different rules about produce (you have to print a fun little label for each type).  My biggest surprise came, however, right after I checked out.  I stood staring at my pile of groceries, with no bags to be found.  The employee was checking out the people behind me...  I finally asked, and it turns out that you have to buy a grocery bag or bring your own.  Who knew?  I don't know if it is designed to encourage recycling, but it certainly does the trick!