Coming to America

Never has a black person left Africa for America so gleefully. I’m finally going home! After being unceremoniously dumped at the airport by my roommate of the last three months, I was in seventh heaven. Every person I have seen in the airport has said, “You’re going to America?” And I can hardly contain my joyful smile. This journey will be far shorter than the one that brought me here. Flying into the nation’s capital will be the crowning moment of my journey. Looking back, I am incredibly lucky. I lived and traveled in two pretty dangerous countries and didn’t even have a book stolen. No crime, no danger, no sketchy cops. As always I came out unharmed. I owe this as much to luck and my grandfather/guardian angel as to the fact that by now I’ve learned how to be a safe traveler. There really is nothing to be worried about in most places if you’re smart and self-aware. Of course, I wouldn’t recommend traveling to Somalia by yourself or anything, but for most places, a girl on her own will be just fine if she keeps her head on straight.

I am also quite proud of how little I have acquired in the last six months. I only packed one suitcase and one carry on when I started and I am leaving with the big suitcase I brought, a very small, very cute teal carry-on size suitcase, a backpack, and the same messenger bag that I came with. I bought a lot less than I had planned, I thought I would be leaving here with a much bigger second suitcase.

The few clothes that I brought (that I’m burning as soon as I get home, I hope to never see those 10 t-shirts again), most of which are so frayed as to be almost unrecognizable, did me well and survived the traveling, touring, and working environments with dignity. Ann Taylor, Banana Republic, Ralph Lauren and J.Crew should be proud. As should two pairs of Old Navy ballet flats that have lived to tell a tale worthy of their many cracks, holes, worn down soles and dingy exteriors. The shoes will have to be retired and bronzed as soon as I get to Seattle. My Longchamp le Pliage remains the most durable, reliable, and classy bag there ever was and is currently folded pleasantly in my suitcase, prepared to enjoy a holiday after serving as my only handbag these long months. My MacBook is dirty and cracked and in need of some Genius Bar TLC but is still clicking away, ready for one more semester of law school and whatever else I can throw at it until I can afford a new one. And my little $50 iPod shuffle, bought especially for the journey, is charged up and ready for a long jam session on the many flights to come.
In fact, everything that I brought with me is coming home relatively undamaged, if a little worse for the wear. My Matt & Nat clutch lost its leather wrist strap somewhere in Siem Reap, but it still holds things just fine. My favourite silver bracelet was misplaced somewhere between my many moves in Phnom Penh, but it is easily replaceable and is already in my Tiffany shopping cart ready to be re-purchased as soon as I get a job. My beautiful leather messenger bag has a battle scar in the form of a ripped seam but it just makes it look more hardcore and experienced. It’s still the best bag I have ever seen. And my prescription sunglasses have been sporting the Harry Potter look (except the tape is on the side rather than the bridge of the nose) but the lenses still work and they suit me just fine for driving. Oh yeah, and my swimsuit has seen better days, but it’s not like I’ll be swimming in Michigan anytime soon anyways. Other than that, everything is pretty okay. Not bad for six months of roughing it I say.

Well that’s all for now. The weather has been rainy and awful for two days. I think Africa is trying to mitigate the shock of my return by giving me weather that’s as close to home as possible. How kind.

That’s all for now. The next time I write I’ll be home!!!

P.S. I wrote this many, many hours ago. AFter my already long layover in Johannesburg my flight is now over an hour late. I may never get out of here!!

Ciaosers,
kat