Being part of the wrong movie is a figure of speech in some languages. It’s supposed to express a feeling of being an observer rather than a participant in what happens around you. A feeling of not belonging, of things being bizarre and inexplicable – a kind of culture shock. It’s been a long time since Mrs J experienced this feeling of being part of the wrong movie. But these last weeks she feels like she’s been to an entire festival of them!

So now it’s day two back at home after a very unusual trip. She’s back to wifi Internet access. She’s back in her own kitchen and her own bed. There’s time to use them. There’s even a TV. But Mrs J is mainly busy processing and archiving everything she’s learnt over he last couple of weeks, piece by piece.

Mrs J feels that when she sets out to do something she’s never done before, there’s always a mix of expected and unexpected. This was true also over the last weeks. For example, she did expect crowds. And she got crowds. Lots and lots of them. And while her intention was (honestly) to try to enjoy these crowds, she really, really doesn’t enjoy crowds.

Check one for expected.

While that may sound negative, it really isn’t. Because theories need to be tested and retested. Mrs J will never have a lack of theories. She’s a theory expert. Seriously.

Testing theories though – not really her forte.

On to the unexpected. Mrs J spent a lot of time in the last weeks caring for handicapped people. This was the main purpose of the trip.

Mrs J admits to being scared about this. She was never good at cheerful small talk. She remembers being really disgusted as a child by the sight of mentally handicapped being fed. And she remembers (with shame) how as a child she asked her mother not to work with the special needs group at her school because she was afraid the other kids would tease her for it. Certainly not her proudest moments.

Today she knows that kids always find something to tease you for, if they want to tease. Mrs J got teased anyway. And she owes her mother an apology, hereby offered.

But regrets are for dinner parties, so on to the amazing experience that was hanging out with this group of handicapped people. Mrs J could never have imagined how great it feels when you can offer these people a good time.

And, totally unexpected, it’s not that she felt sorry for them. Well, perhaps intellectually she did. But emotionally they were just these fabulous, funny personalities that Mrs J looked forward to seeing every day.

Mrs J really and truly enjoyed that part of the trip. Totally unexpected.

Also, wheelchairs rule.