Hola Javier! Adios iPhone :(

17 Jan

After 6 trips to Vodafone… AKA hell on earth, 3 trips to sketchy Chinese shops…AKA phone hacker ninjas,  and one virgin scooter experience. I found that a) I have as much control over my head in a 10 lb helmet as a bobble doll (as I clanked heads with my friend and driver, Cristina, the entire 5 minute jaunt…that felt like 5 days… whilst I clutched her waist, tried to peer past the mass of hair glued to my face by anxiety ridden sweat and the infinite snug-ness of my Power Ranger inspired helmet, and attempted to pretend I was on a horse… “squeeze with your legs!”  I wish I had a friggin picture for the grandkids)  b) I am not meant to have a phone in this country and c) I am ENTIRELY too reliant on this thing called technology.

After surviving the scooter, my daily appearance at Vodafone, and two failed attempts at a Chinese-English-Spanish trifecta of language babble I found the holy grail of phone magicians in the form a Chin-Span speaking Asian boy with two moles on his face protruding a SOLID… and highly distracting… two inches of black pubic- esque hair.

We shall call him Javier.

After my initial excitement at the fact that my phone worked on 3G not just wi-fi coupled with Javier’s confidence that it would work, as well as the possibility of making a real live phone call I was suddenly horrified when plugging in my iPhone to my iTunes and finding… nothing. Nada. Blank screen. Alotta gray. And alotta messages saying neither my two sim cards existed.

Enter the smelling salts.

No, ok I didn’t pass out, but panic ensued and there is still a twinge of overwhelming and debilitating fear. It’s a fear similar to what I would imagine comes with being mugged or how I personally feel when there is no milk and I have already poured a bowl of delicious Lucky Charms.

Complete. Torture.

But why!?!?!

We are so turned on all the time that I think technology is becoming another of the senses. It’s the sixth sense… the cellular sense. If I don’t have a phone to check, something to post on Facebook, or a new YouTube video to watch, my life just isn’t complete. But it should be. I’m in one of the greatest cities in the world and I’m worried about being able to whatsapp my friends at home and check out the newest posts. I came here to live in the moment and I think this is a prime example that our generation doesn’t know how to live in the moment because we are too tuned into recording and sharing the moment. We want to be connected with the world so bad that we forget we are IN the world.

Regardless of my “aha” moment I still want my phone like I would imagine most prostitutes want their crack…

Javier, I will see you and your mole hair tomorrow!

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