2 feet on American soil…but not quite home yet

Landed in New York City on July 12 to hot sticky summer…aw yeah!  I bought my ticket in December to end in New York with the forethought that I’d come home and hit NYC and Vermont to visit friends.  Good plan initially, but these days I’m rollin’ on credit twinkles and I was worried that I might max out my funds just getting back to the Midwest.  In fact, I’m all good on that front so this stopover in New England has proved to be quite cool. 

At the airport I waited for my bags and then jumped into a line for a yellow cab to Manhattan.  My friend Sandra, another Pietermartizburg student friend, is living in the East Village on Manhattan and graciously took me in for a few days.  I haven’t seen her in awhile, although she used to come and visit in Illinois from time to time. 

Being back in the USA was immediately an interesting experience.  There is a swirl of the known and unknown happening that is quite weird.  Mostly I try not to think about it and just let myself readjust as I will.  Although I’ve never been to NYC there was an inherent ease of movement just because it’s the USA.  On the flip there was a strangeness because this place was not the place I just came from.  And a city I’ve never been to.  Right now it’s been over a week since I landed and this familiar/unfamiliar balancing act has still been coloring my thoughts and behavior.  Sometimes to points of absolute hilarity but also sometimes it’s just a bit disorienting. 

(USA convenience culture at its finest...after a drive thru liquor store, that is)

(USA "no shit sherlock" culture at its finest)

(USA consumer culture at its loudest...Times Square NYC)

Sandra agreed to pay for a taxi for me to get to her place.  What a doll J because my bags are pretty much murder enclosed in canvas.  I got to a meeting place in Sandra’s neighborhood, a scuba shop she frequents, and waited for a bit to meet her after work.  Cal, the owner of the dive shop, was super cool and we drank a beer while waiting.  It was great to see Sandra.  She is someone I never thought I’d stay friends with after South Africa because in ‘Maritzburg we used to fight a lot.  But we’ve kept in touch and I can honestly say I’m proud to call this lady a friend. 

Sandra and I didn’t get to spend too much time together because she was going to Peru about 2 days after I arrived.  We spent our time grabbing a bite to eat and wandering around her neighborhood.  She just moved there in the last month into an apartment she bought.  So it was new for her too.  We had a great time together and I wish I could have spent more time with her.  I guess I just have an excuse to come back to NYC. 

NYC is one of the most amazing cities I have ever seen.  It’s pretty much just mind-blowing.  Cape Town is my favorite city in the world, besides Chicago, but now that I’ve tasted NYC I think Cape Town has a run for its money.  I couldn’t help but compare Chicago to New York.  Obviously NYC is much much bigger and older than Chicago, but even this country mouse couldn’t help but note many general urban threads running through and binding both cities. 

“The City that Never Sleeps” is no joke.  I have been having issues staying up super late since I’ve gotten back.  The sun was going down around 6pm in Pretoria and now it goes down after 8pm.  When the sun goes down I innately think it’s like dinner time, so I end up staying up until 1 or 2pm almost every night with ease.  I am used to things shutting a bit early in South Africa and going out to eat at 11pm, a norm in a big ciy like NYC, was astounding to me.  I was staying up later on accident, but the city had it down to a science.  It seems that New Yorkers have found a way to cram every last space with something.  From their time to the physical space in their city.  I saw the most amazing highway structures in NYC.  I saw one mille feuilles layer cake of a bridge that had about 5 routes of traffic (car, train) horizontally and then about 3 layers vertically.  It was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.  And the bridge was an old stone arch bridge that one would not expect all the ants to be moving through in their cars.  It was breathtaking.  In SA I was getting so GEEKED to see the Guatrain tracks being built but this structure blew that paltry little cement pedestal out of the water! 

(Basement doors in NYC that open right out into the sidewalk...see...these people stack it up)

I once went to a chicken slaughterhouse in KwaZulu Natal in South Africa.  In that place there were chicken bodies in various stages of undress whizzing around on conveyor belts and even above our heads on tracks.  It was multi-layer madness.  New York felt this way to me without the obvious morbid overtones that this comparison might bring up.  It was actually quite exhilarating and impressive.  Hats off, NYC! 

Walking around the streets of NYC was really interesting because just 2 days before I was walking around the streets of central Johannesburg.  The comparison of the two environments was constantly nagging on my brain.  I was still in hyper Guateng mode and it was hard to just switch to USA city mode.  In the cities here you do have to keep some street smarts about you…but not really.  Depending on what part of the city you are in.  I was on Manhattan island and it seemed super safe there.  While walking I was just part of the landscape instead of sore thumb I become in some SA environments.  It was so liberating even though the SA state of mind was still loud in my head.  This is one of the best parts about being home. 

Luckily I didn’t have any run-ins crossing the street.  Sometimes when I switch between two countries that drive on opposite sides of the road…I have problems with stepping out in front of cars cos I forget to look in the correct direction of traffic.  No problems this time, but I was still super cautious of crossing because in South Africa, especially in the city, the cars don’t stop for you to cross.  Even if you are an old lady with grocery bags.  Sandra often stepped out in front of cars and they just stopped for her.  Meanwhile I’m cowering on the corner silently screaming “No! Don’t cross!”  She was like “Don’t worry…they will stop.”  I don’t know man.  I don’t know.  Adjustments…

Since I just came from World Cup central…I’ve been spying little hidden World Cup messages around.  Bars still advertising for the Cup (mind you, it’s over now).  I saw an AMAZING bus stop ad for ESPN that mimicked the painting of George Washington crossing the Potomac except all the characters were USA Soccer players.  Awesome!  I have been so amazed at how many people have asked me “Did you just come from South Africa?”  Usually they ask after seeing some South African item in my hand or on my body.  The interesting part of this simple question is the use of the term “South Africa.”  And the fact that people are visually recognizing something that they think is of South African origin.  This has never happened to me on such a grand scale in the USA.  If people recognize something visually they usually say something about “Africa” and move about their day.  Or the worst is when people tell me they have a friend John from Africa but they don’t even know what country he hails from.  Watch my brown hair turn white strand by strand…eish!  But now people are seeing stuff…thinking SOUTH AFRICA…and then standby for a quick conversation.  It’s kind of awesome.  My conclusion on this matter is that now the term, idea, place “South Africa” has a spot in the USA thought process.  It no longer exists in the amorphous space outside USA borders called “Africa.”  It’s a specific place.  This is great not only for South Africa, but also the whole continent of Africa.  Mostly people were asking me about South Africa after seeing my vuvuzela but some other things prompted this question too.  It’s been cool. 

(World Cup...nothing else matters...)

(Amazing bus stop ad for World Cup)

On the vuvuzela tip…so far I have gotten 4 people to blow my vuvuzela.  My friend, the greyhound bus driver up to Vermont, and two of Clara’s friends.  I will add more!  I have slowed down on this front cos last time we blew the vuvuzela the cops came…so gotta keep it on the down low.  Ha ha…vuvuzela on the down low…does such a thing exist? 

(Curtis tries out the vuvuzela...and then the cops came)

So Sandra and her girlfriend went off to Peru and I stayed at Sandra’s apartment.  After a day of walking around Manhattan by my lonesome (awesome), I decided to head up to Vermont to see my best friend, Clara.  Vermont is a little green mountainous sliver of a state that extends from Canada down to the northern edge of Massachusetts.  It’s about 5 hours north of NYC by bus.  So I taxi’d my enormous bags down to the bus station and got myself to Vermont.  It was great to flow from the hectic NYC landscape through small little New England towns and finally to the green of Vermont.  New England is very picturesque and so old that it sort of doesn’t have an American feel to it.  Or at least a very different feel from the place I come from. 

Vermont has been awesome.  Clara is one of my best friends and although we are in constant contact over the internet and phone, being there in 3D is something else.  I’ve been here for about a week now and it’s all going by like a big blur.  So much to do.  So much porch sitting and relaxing.  Carlo and Elvis.  We’ve been up to great activities on top of spending hours just reading, chatting, and listening to music on her full length porch.  I am such a porch junkie so this feature of her place is great to me.  I’ve slept out here each night on a cushion.  It’s refreshing to be down with the rhythms of the outdoors.  Sun, rain, spiders (!), the sound of the trains passing by just across the river.  The other day I heard a big crack and then saw a tree fall on top of a pickup truck.  Small town scandal!  The fire trucks came.  Then the cops.  Then the fire officers.  Then the cleanup crew.  It was the most fascinating small town front page scene.  Porch sittin’…you are my heart. 

 (My porch sleeping nest overlooking a canal of the Connecticut River)

We’ve been to a little music show in a barn in the forest, climbed down into a gorge to swim in the river below Bellows Falls (the falls give the name to the town we are in), yesterday we kayaked.  Have had good food, good conversations, and overall a pretty rock’n mellow time.  This is the life.  I am so damn happy to be home and I haven’t even gotten to my actual home yet…

(Coming home from a long night of partying...stuffed, South African style, in the back of a truck)

(Bellows Falls, Vermont by night)

(Kayak'n on the Connecticut River)

Side note on Vermont…they really do put maple syrup in everything.  Just in case you were wondering.  It’s true.  Clara and I went to a farmers’ market in her neighborhood and they made my lemonade with maple syrup instead of sugar.  Now that’s dedication to your syrup!  The cheese here is good.  And the environment is alternately redneck heaven and artist land.  Interesting dichotomy…all amid the backdrop of the Green Mountains.  Vermont, you little beauty, you. 

(Vermont...that's what's up)

The beer here is amazing.  I have starving in South Africa on a poor choice of beers.  South Africa has about 6 or 7.  Most bars here have about 6 or 7 beers just on tap.  Almost all local handcrafted microbrews.  Heaven, heaven, heaven.  I went to a brewery for lunch in NYC and have been enjoying the smorgasbord of beer that is exploding everywhere.  Did I mention it’s good to be home?  

I should be here for a little less than a week and then I’m headed home to the Midwest.  Back to life, back to reality.  Got a job waiting for me.  A place to sleep.  Friends, family, and carne asada tacos.  Woza. 

Hope you all are well…riding a summer high in the North or anticipating the end of winter in the South

Hugs and as always…keep the faith and spread it gently

Love

Lynsee