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As a young and stupid teenager, I used to think it’s uncool to travel carrying big bags and suitcases. Before leaving for Europe, I reduced my stuff for two-week trip to a minimum that just fit in my taut bag. That decision made me unable to bring a coat in case it was cold out there. When my mother opposed my light equipment, I confidently declared that I didn’t want to look like a country bumpkin with heavy bags in Europe and I wouldn’t need a coat there. It turned out that I spent the first day in London shivering with cold. My foolish pride wouldn’t let me utter that I was cold, almost freezing. In addition, I had been on bad terms with my mother after the argument over my small luggage and more so since she insulted me about my English at the restaurant. It was impossible now for me to admit I had made a wrong decision and needed a coat. She repeatedly said to me “You’re cold, aren’t you?” and I said, “I’m just fine.” each time. My family seemed to be hit by culture shock and all of us didn’t feel well on the second day in London. We stayed in a hotel room instead of sightseeing. I still didn’t have any appetite and my mother devoured pickled Japanese apricots she had brought from home. In the afternoon, we came to the conclusion that staying in a hotel all day was a huge waste of time and money, and we went to a nearby department store. When we were waiting for an elevator, a middle-aged gentleman spoke to us and offered his employee discount for us. He invited us to the office floor and we took the elevator together. The elevator moved incredibly slowly and my mother started grumbling again. We began to feel uncertain where he was taking us and what he was doing to us. Fear overcame our desire for discount. I told him that we were out of time and we got out of the elevator. In the end, my mother never said she would buy me a coat and I would never asked for it there. We left the department store where a lot of warm clothes were available and I returned to our hotel, shivering…
