Two weeks in the USA.

It started with getting an early leave from the school which was a stroke of luck and experience. I returned home after much resentment from my classmates. For the two days I was home, there was a dentist appointment, shopping, eating, and did I mention shopping? Then, the real trip to the USA started with a highly inconvenient and long flight to Chicago.  

People were splayed all over the room over benches and on the floor in seemingly uncomfortable positions, some were fast asleep while the others just looked as if they were being sucked into an invisible hole in the dull, white walls of the airport. All I could hear other than the incredibly frequent announcements were the distinct cries of babies. Babies, I would think bitterly nearly twelve hours later as I sat floating in troposphere, functioning on Trident gum. 

A thing that spending so much time on a flight teaches you is that time is a notion that humans have made up, that the Earth continues to move and the sun will keep rising and setting irrespective of the fact that you might be in a completely different part of the globe. That time is just ourway of keeping up with the universe and bringing about some kind of an order to it. An hour that you haven’t actually spent could be added to your life or a perfectly meaningful hour could similarly be subtracted, on the clock. The clock is our voluntary participation in a delusion, part of our imagined order. 

I also remember feeling a little shaken when we reached O’Hare airport, being so scared of this unknown place full of so much unfamiliar kinds of diversity. I remember being taken aback as the floor under us trembled slightly as people dragged their suitcases along. It was disorienting and unsettling but still, a worthy experience.

My favorite travel memories were made at Orlando, Florida. Although the routine we followed there pretty much mechanical, it was still the best part of the journey. We woke up early in the mornings and showered and had a light breakfast made mom sagaciously. Then we’d make our way to the shuttle station and thus, we’d reach our destination- different for every one of the four days we were there, each one a different amusement or a theme park. We’d spent hours on end roaming around, trusting my brother to lead us to the best attractions. We’d scream on the alacritousroller coaster, trying to convince our mother to join us (even though on most occasions we didpresent slightly white lies). Every night, we’d get dinner from the resort’s cafeteria and savour it in the room, gulp some soft-drinks down and let ourselves flow away in the river of sleep.

The roller-coasters were really breath-taking, though. With every sudden drop would be a shrill scream and everyone’s heartbeats would slowly accelerate as the ride would go upward because, well we all know what awaits us on the other side- the drop, the only moments when you can actually feel gravity tug you down, pulling you back to the ground. From unexpected backward jerks and unbelievably long queues to my mom hiding her face into my arm and as a result, smearing her lipstick all over my t-shirt; roller-coasters were really refreshing and curious experiences. Other than the weird feeling in your stomach and having to see your embarrassing pictures after the ride, yeah, roller-coasters are terrific. 

Another one of my favourite memory traces back to dinner with my brother in a pizzeria called Pizza Ranch that served an exclusive pizza buffet (that sounds exactly the way it is and believe me or not, they even had pizza for dessert!). Grinnell was filled with warmth despite its cold weather. The meals were always full of hustling and bustling around the kitchen, video-calls with Papa and passing on the food, urging each other to eat it. Another time, we ate delicious Chinese food in a place right around the corner, for lunch and that was great, too. Grinnell was all about us scheduling our days, taking our own time to bathe and listlessly watching Netflix or playing games on our phones (at least for my brother and I). 

Oh, and of course, there are some cool memories in the Windy City of Chicago- there was the time when we were rebelliously eating ice-cream in the weather as the wind harshly hit us in the face and when we were so amused by the “bean” in the Millennium Park, watching our faces grow seriously distorted as we moved closer and clicked numerous pictures (thanks to my mother’s persistence). There are also some incredible memories linked with the food there. Breakfast and lunches were variably exquisite, and dinners were sandwiches and wraps in the shelter of our hotel room.

What I really loved about all this travelling was how people transitioned according to the town and setting, almost as if to match the vibe. Grinnell had the quiet and friendly as if everyone knew each other, Orlando had the extroverts on account of its monopoly of tourism and Chicagoans were humorous and sometimes, uptight. 

The trip was like feeling three different kinds of feelings, slowly and thoroughly. Each city was a different, individual feeling.

Chicago was a short-lasting visit but still a great one. With its museums, lakes and skyscrapers, it really is a spectacle. Just seat yourself on one of the Hop-on-and-Hop-off buses and there, you have it, a quick view of the mysterious city. Chicago was a more of a performer putting up an exhibition that people could look at and be impressed, and praise and recommend. It was quite fascinating all the same. It was a feeling of awe and admiration for something of an enigma. 

Grinnell was like a placid ocean, the waves rhythmically rolling onto the shore and ascending, everything in place with no place for worries or consternations as if another world altogether, untouched by the other places in the universe. It was a relaxing feeling, a silent embrace that slowly travels up to you, enclosing you in a blissful peace.

Orlando was a routine that one would never get tired of, full of unexpected events and unreal happenings. It was something else altogether, from the rides to the shows, from the people to the regulations. It was an exhilarating feeling, the giddy squeeze in your chest that makes your hair stand up and your heart feel like it could explode of anticipation and thrill alone. It was crazy in the best way. 

I’d like to sum up with three photos that somewhat portray each of the three places...

 

Grinnell: A window in the ceiling of our room that I noticed only on the second day.

Chicago: A spectacular view from one of the skyscrapers.

Orlando: Gringotts Bank, an enriching Harry Potter experience,  bringing to life my inner Potterhead.