Now That's Embarrassing.

You know the time I'm talking about. That moment where your whole world just comes crashing down because you are beet red and feel like dying. For me, though, I got lucky. My moment wasn't in front of a huge crowd, not amongst random strangers, or even with any of my close friends. It was just me, my mind, and my host dad being a little too friendly...
I've been studying Russian since I was in high school. For some reason, it's always intrigued me. And then I went on in college to study Russian too, and decided to minor in it (because what use is a Russian major, after all?). In order to do that at the university I was attending however, it was mandatory to go on a study abroad to Moscow. As if I was going to complain about that! I had always wanted to go the birth place of my language obsession! And now, here was my chance and there was no way I was about to pass it up.
We were assigned to host families so that they would be able to help our language skills progress better, more fluently and accented correctly. It was something I had only dreamed about when I was a little 15 year old first starting high school. One day... I used to tell myself, One day, Kiri, you're going to get to go to Russia. And that day had finally come.
Meeting my family I was so exciting! I got very lucky because not only did I have a little host sister, I had two! What a rare thing for Russia! My host dad's name was Oleg, my mom's Olya. My older little sister was Asya and the little one year old was Masha. I fell in love with those two little girls so quick. And my host mom was quite the amazing cook; I was impressed! I got along with my host dad really well, we talked a lot in English too so he could practice as much as me. But there was one point where we got... well, got along a little too well. At least, he did anyway.
I shared a room with Asya. We had a bunk bed, and I slept on the bottom, she on the top. Sometimes, she would fall asleep in her parents bed and Oleg would have to bring Asya in to sleep so he wouldn't roll onto her in the night. And it was one fateful night after having only been there a month that the most embarrassing moment of my life happened.
It was 3 am. I had just barely woke up against my will and was still slightly groggy. I rolled over so my body was facing the door and suddenly, it began to creak open.
Before I knew what was going on, I saw Oleg's form walk into the room, with Asya in his arms. At first I thought it was cute--after all, a dad was putting his little girl to bed. But as he kept coming closer, a small sliver of light came in through the window. I squeezed my eyes shut as quickly as I could.
As cute is it may be to see a father put his child to sleep, this was far from cute. I knew the Russian culture was bound to be different than America, but I hadn't prepared myself for this aspect.
Somehow, it slipped my mind that, as it got warmer, Russians got more naked, more frequently. Which was a horrifying thought for someone who had never seen anyone older than the age of two naked, so who knows how I spaced it. In fact, they get naked to the point where they wear nothing to bed, even with company (as it turns out). Because right before I was able to slam my eyes closed, I got the unfortunate view of my entire host dad. Right in front of my face as he lifted Asya to bed right above me.
Needless to say, that was the most horrifying moment of my life.
I never spoke of it to any in my host family. And to this day, Oleg still doesn't know I got to see him in his birthday suit. And I plan to take that information with me to the grave.