Iron molds

Summer camps have always felt like continuations of the school year to me. Not so much in the actual activities or work that I do (hell, I just spent the last week being a crazy idiot), but the people that I see.

We all went to the night market the other day, and apart from the ~1000 NT dollars Leon and I threw into this one ping-pong game (the adorable prizes are shown below), the only thing I'll care enough to remember a year from now is the phallic-pineapple cake store.

We are victorious.

Aaaand here's the pineapple pastry gone wrong.

Turns out this store is a franchise.

"A piece of Gayke"

It occurred to me that at some point in time, someone out there had to ask somebody else to make those iron molds. Must have been a funny conversation.

Then again, we're all from a mold of some sort, aren't we?

There's the strange guy in your English class who does all right in school, but makes retarded noises and sings for no reason as if he was 4 years old (I'm one of these). Then there's the girl who can't resist putting her hands on some male at all times. There's the guy who is so down-to-earth that you look up to him. And there's the huge dude whose intimidating appearance belies his soft personality. I've seen these archetypes at school. And now I've seen them at AID.

I can take every person that I met last week, and connect them to people that I know back in California.

"If you are one in a million, there are 7000 people just like you."