Viva la Revolucion!

This past Sunday, as I was exiting the church parking lot, I drove past a friend of mine who rolled down her window and asked where I was going and if I wanted to get dinner with her.

So we made spontaneous plans and headed over to a coffee chop/cafe in the heart of town for a light supper on the patio.

As we sat there chatting and waiting for our food, I began to look around and noticed that the other folks on the patio looked...well...different than we looked. Or perhaps I should say that my friend and I looked different from everyone else. I pointed this out to my friend, under my breath, saying "umm have you noticed that we don't quite...belong?"

We were surrounded by people who looked at first glance like hippies. But on closer inspection they were more like a subset of hippies...a sect, if you will. Several of them were wearing t-shirts with the word "Revolution" printed on the front. Then they started setting up a table with pamphlets and books on it, followed by a microphone and sound system.

Next thing we knew, they were singing. It turns out they were Communists. They were out celebrating May Day, which is the traditional day to celebrate the contributions of the working man (we were informed). They tried to get us to join in as they sang their version of an anthem (complete with arms raised in solidarity). They sang all the verses of the song, first in English, then in Spanish and then in Farsi.

They talked about the people's revolution and played some Spanish and Iranian music videos. Mostly they just talked amongst themselves.

My takeaway was this: If being a Communist means never fixing my hair and having to look like an earth-mother, I'll pass.