something has begun

The wandering-around-the-world-with-a-physical-destination begins at 11:24am of the beautiful sunny Saturday, May 17. After living in South Orange for about a year, I decide to go for the idea of taking a bus to the airport. Just by coincident, my flights from Newark were always in weird hours before sunrise, which forced me to take a cab when no cars are running on streets, or ask Kim to drop me there before she falls asleep. This time, in the middle of a sunny day, online bus schedules inform me that if I wait at the bus stop a block away from my apartment, I can arrive in the airport in 30 minutes.

Yeah right. I don’t believe it at all.

So I ditch Jason who is chatting with me on MSN and take a trip to the bus stop. Obviously, there is no schedule or route posted on the stop. I interviewed an Asian woman waiting for a bus, who tells me that … I am not sure what she tells me. I doubt her understanding of English and am sure that I have difficulty understanding her English. My mood is still good, and I get back home and call the bus hotline. The Black woman (I am confident to decide she is black) who answers the phone confirms the bus schedule.

Yeah right. I don’t believe the bus will be on time. Nevertheless, I drag my luggage out and wait for the bus at 11:24am.

The bus ride shows me places I have never visited or will ever visit. It is a culture adventure. In my daily routine, it is not easy to see people with those demographic profiles: Latinos, Blacks, and very young parents. I am the only Asian, the only passenger going to the airport (which the bus driver knows because I confirmed with him that the bus is going to the airport), the only person who carries luggage and a tube. Of course, the bus driver remembers me after 50 minutes – never believe the bus schedule – and reminds me to get out of the bus when he stops in the parking lot of the airport.

This is not my first time in the parking lot of the Newark airport. I know it is far far far away from terminals. As I am planning how I can drag my stuff to the terminal, the bus driver says “Just wait right here for 37. Right here.” I am glad the sun is still standing by me and I am not too afraid when the sun is with me. So I stand there, seeing the bus driving away. In less than 3 minutes, Bus 37 appears, approaching, and I smile.

Two hours before the scheduled departure, I am at the X-ray gate. Not bad at all.
Thirty minutes before the scheduled departure, I am calling Zabeth that the flight is going to be delayed for three hours.

Captain: “We will be landing in 20 minutes.”
Twenty minutes later, I throw up everything I ate: two apples and two TLC mixed-trail bars.
Captain apologizes and keeps circling around the city for 30 more minutes. Me and the vomiting bag are scaring my neighbors out, and they avoid any gaze in my direction. When the plane touches the ground, hands are clapped, and a tissue is handed to me by the Chinese woman next to me.

The shuttle takes me to the “on-site” Enterprise in ten minutes, which feels like an hour in a dark rainy evening.
Representative, whispering: “Only 5 dollars a day, I can upgrade you an SUV.”
Pei, not whispering at all: “No. I reserved a compact car. I want a compact car.”
Representative: “Cobalt.”
Pei: “What?” I have very limited knowledge of car model names, “Is it a compact?”
Representative: “No, it’s a four-door.”
Pei: “Is it small?”
Representative: “The smallest we have right now.”
What is the purpose of reserving a car in advance? I wonder.
Because it is pouring now, he goes into the car with me and shows me how to operate the car and checks everything. He, whispering with alcohol breath, this time tries to convince me to buy expensive insurance. I just want him to leave me alone with the car. I say, no, give me the basic coverage and tell me good radios for the road.

I am on I-88, playing with windshield wipers to find the perfect speed of wiping so that I can see anything in front of me. Very different from Beetle, Cobalt’s wiper switch is very cognitively demanding. From time to time, I see something remote in clouds. After miles of traveling, I see clearly lightning across in sky. Literally across from left to right. Many many of them. My two hands are clutching on the wheel, and my brain is saying “You are safe in a car.” By the time I hit I-80, the moon comes out and companies me to Zabeth’s place. I like the moon.

The street name is Aber, where a good number of kindly cards were sent from by Rose. She is in bed when I am served with hot white chocolate of Teresa’s. I am never a fan of white chocolate, not to mention Hershey white chocolate, but I am too exhausted and starving to say no to any gesture of hospitality.
Click the picture below to see what happens in the next few days.

Midwest trip