My first "flight" abroad!

My USA Chronicles: Part one

            So, after accomplishing all the rare feats of getting a US visa, getting finances set, and getting my research work chosen for a conference presentation, in the reverse order, I was all set to get aboard the third flight of my life. Except, this was the first one crossing the Indian borders. I'll not bore you with the routine airport stuff where I did not quite know the sequence of procedures to follow, and how the staff asked if that was my first trip abroad, and how my screen was the only one on the entire flight that did not work, and how I applied butter under the bun because I could not cut it open with a plastic knife, and so on. After a really long 21 hours of night and time travel, I put an end to all humiliations, or at least I thought so, and landed in Chicago airport.

Chicago O'Hare from the air

            It wasn't as bad as I thought. People were very helpful there. I couldn't get the user portal at the customs kiosk to work. I asked a lady there and she said, "read the instructions". I thanked her, completed the task successfully and went ahead. There was a spooky empty corridor in front of me. With the fear of getting arrested for trespassing a secret military establishment behind a wrong door, I asked the security there. She said, "just follow the boards". Great, right?! I again thanked her for her advice and walked ahead. Well, people do take the instructions seriously, both, for putting them up and following them.

Hallucinatory airport lights to weed out the weak-hearted before they set foot on the country's soil.

            I then hopped on a plane to Colorado and guess what? I got the window seat! I was clicking so many pictures of the beautiful view outside, from high above! Well, I might have missed the fact that the flight had not even moved a bit. I did hear my neighbour's neighbour tell my neighbour, "I can't believe this!". I forced myself to believe he was commenting on the cost of the food available for purchase on the flight, and not on my childish behaviour. The air hostess asked if I wanted something to drink. Since my neighbour's neighbour had exclaimed about the prices (or not), I declined the offer, only to later realise that non-alcoholic beverages were for free!

That beautiful view from my window seat. (Don't notice the broken shutter; it's unimportant.)

            Fast-forward to my trip in a van to Keystone, I remembered several people and websites advise that hydration was the key to managing jet-lag and altitude sickness. I started drinking from my new water bottle, gulp after gulp until I could take no more. And then I had more again. Come on, who would want to die of dehydration on their first trip abroad? But, my actions had consequences. My driver was a very friendly person called Matt. And since Americans address each other by names, I told Matt where I needed to be dropped. Matt, being super nice, chalked out a plan to drop everyone off at their desired locations. Fortunately, my place was the last. That meant I could roam around the city and have a look at the beautiful snow and mountains and the highway.

The snow, the mountains, the highway, and Matt's hand

            We got off the van to get registered for the conference and get the hotel room keys. I was just wearing a jacket unzipped, and pretty proud of myself that I could survive sub-zero temperatures like a boss. However, what my fat-layered skin couldn't feel, my kidneys could! We were still on-route dropping everyone else off. Unfortunately, my place was the last. That meant I had to roam around the city and stare at the snow and the mountains and the empty highway, just to distract myself from a full bladder. At the penultimate stop, which was the furthest from my place, I asked Matt, "Hey Matt, do you know of any restroom I could use?". A friendly Matt replied, "I dunno man, just get into one of these hotels and pretend you belong there.". I said, "Erm, I guess that is okay. I'll wait for my place". Matt understood the emergency and drove back so fast. Matt did not care for the pits and bumpy snow speed breakers. Well, I kinda wish he had because I was under more pressure now. The poor guy treated me like a patient in an ambulance. Matt turned back with a pitiful face and said, "We are almost there man, just a couple of minutes away". I had to reply something while I pretended to remain calm. I said, "That's okay, Matt. I'm good. First time experiencing such cold, you see". He sympathetically said, "I understand, man". I wanted to reply, but my energy was focussed elsewhere. Once we reached my place, Matt ran out of the van, grabbed my luggage and put it at the doorstep, while I cautiously had just gotten out of my door. Thanks, Matt! No time for taking any more humiliation or addressing him by his first name again. I just stormed through the door and miraculously found my room without any help. Thanks to the airport security; I now remembered to follow boards for instructions.

Me, not showing off where I lived. Obviously, clicked after the emergency had passed.

Stay tuned! More to come...