In 1988, I played in the European Racquetball Championship, Hamburg, Germany.
It was one of the swankiest clubs I’d ever played at.
I checked in and went to the locker room to get ready.
Imagine my surprise when I walked in on a naked woman.
(That sort of thing never happened to me back in the United States.)
I covered my eyes at once and started to babble. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!!” And backed away.
I made it one aisle over. Lo and behold, there was a naked guy there, toweling off.
Now I was really confused.
I glanced at the naked woman. Back at the naked man. Who kept rubbing his back with a towel.
“Ja,” he said, with a short, curt nod. “Co-ed.”
I soon learned the whole facility was like that.
Imagine me, a nineteen-year-old kid—fresh off the boat, so to speak—showering next to a naked woman, a stranger, in a public place.
Talk about culture shock.
But that’s one of the things travel does for you.
It can really open your eyes
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