Thursday, April 12, 1990 
     
    
   
   
    
     Sushi, 
     
    
   
   
    
     I have to admit that I wasn’t 
     
     in the best of shape when I volun- 
     
     teered fo: vhat to turned out to 
     
     be a pieasant experience. And I 
     
     have my good friend Marla (a.k.a. 
     
     Martha) MacDonald to thank. 
     
    
   
   
    
     It was the night before they 
     
     were to arrive (March 31, 1990 as 
     
     I recall); they being ten Japanese 
     
     student Model United Nations 
     
     delegates. martha was frantically 
     
    
   
   
    
     Cen, 
     
    
   
   
    
     Hing i Lic 
     
    
   
   
    
     wane 2 
     
    
   
   
    
     © PRIZES 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     Martha, 
     
    
   
   
    
     and the 
     
    
   
   
    
     tearing around “Myron’s” trying 
     
     to find “just one more” billet for 
     
     our arriving guests. That’s where 
     
     I came in. Of course I said yes. 
     
     What is a I supposed to say? 
     
     The phone call came at 10:30 
     
     the next morning; Sunday morn- 
     
     ing that is. It was Martha. Was I 
     
     ready to go to the airport? They 
     
     would be landing shortly. Air- 
     
     port, I thought. What Airport? 
     
     Who was arriving? And why was 
     
    
   
   
    
     LADIES oe r 
     
     A We carnation 
     
    
   
   
    
     The Gem 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     Business Pub: Help! 
     
    
   
   
    
     Martha Phoning me at so early. 
     
    
   
   
    
     in the morning? Then I remem- 
     
     bered. I had more less offered 
     
     into taking a billet. Way to go 
     
     Martha, I thought. You are a 
     
     lot smarter than I ever gave you 
     
     credit for. 
     
    

    
     That’s how it started. I didn’t 
     
     even know if they could speak en- 
     
     glish and I knew that I couldn’t 
     
     speak Japanese. What a week it 
     
     was going to be! 
     
    
   
   
    
     When I arrived at the airport, 
     
     they were already waiting. They 
     
     looked as nervous as I felt. Some- 
     
     one said to me, this is your bil- 
     
     let. Her name is Ekio. (Pro- 
     
     nounced Ache—o) Well, I have 
     
     to pronounce her name correctly. 
     
     Instead, I called her Mable. Not 
     
     a bad substitute, eh? 
     
    

    
     My mother was away when 
     
     Ekio arrived. Needless to say, 
     
     Ekio ate at Martha’s house. Ex- 
     
    
   
   
    
     189 Kent Street, 
     
    
   
   
    
     Charlottetown 
     
     894-4291 
     
    
   
   
    
     OP 
     
    
   
   
    
     malate: specials pop up 
     
     throughout the night - 
     
     every night 
     
    
   
   
    
     CHICKEW WINGS 
     
    
   
   
    
     the 3 Hour Happy Hour 
     
     7 to 10 p.m. Monday thru Thursday 
     
    
   
   
    
      ' 
     
     NO 
     
     COVER 
     
     CHARGE 
     
    
   
   
    
     cept in the morning, when I man- 
     
     aged to whip a bowl of Corn 
     
     Flakes for her. okay, so maybe 
     
     I wasn’t the ideal hostess but I 
     
     did take her to the Business Pub. 
     
     But not before exposing her to a 
     
     little “Pre—pub ritual” 
     
    

    
     We were invited to a small 
     
     get together at the home of Se- 
     
     nior Class President Ghislaine 
     
     O’Hanley. My mother kindly do- 
     
     nated one bottle of red wine to 
     
     Ekio our guest. But after one 
     
     glass, Mable start to fall asleep 
     
     on the couch. In my infinte wis- 
     
     dom, I explained to her that if she 
     
     drank the whole bottle she would 
     
     be able to stay awake easier. I 
     
     even gave her a straw to help her 
     
     speed up the process. During a 
     
     brief moment alone in the kitchen 
     
     she said to me “ You are very 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘ strong” 
     
    
   
   
    
     “Why thank you Mabel!” was 
     
     my reply. 
     
    

    
     Then she asked “Is everyone 
     
     this strong with alcohol?” It was 
     
     then that it dawned on me. She 
     
     thought I was an alcoholic. Oh, 
     
     well. She wasn’t the first and 
     
     wouldn’t be the last. 
     
    

    
     I think it is safe to say that 
     
     they had a good time while they 
     
     were here. One girl, (and please 
     
     don’t ask me her name) offered 
     
     her plane ticket to New York to 
     
     Darell Coles. In return she hoped 
     
     that she would be permitted to 
     
     drive to New york with our dele- 
     
     gation. (It is my educated guess 
     
     that she had never driven in a bus 
     
     for any length of time. Gross) 
     
    

    
     Anyhow, it was a great expe- 
     
     rience, even though I cried when 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘swaying good-bye at the airport. 
     
    
   
   
    
     In the words of Paul MacKinnon 
     
     “It is a beautiful thing when two 
     
     nations become joined as one...” 
     
     and throughout the Charlotte- 
     
     town International Airport Mike 
     
     Woodman could be heard say- 
     
     ing “Does anyone have kleenex 
     
     for Heather?” but the clincher 
     
     had to be Marla Nadine MacDon- 
     
     ald saying to her little billet “Re- 
     
     member where I told you to shop 
     
     when you get to New York”. True 
     
     blue capitalists to the end! 
     
    

    
     How did I get mixed up with 
     
     this bunch anyhow? 
     
    
   
   
    
     Heather J. Morrison