Home again, Home again, clickity click...
Again, thank you to everyone who wrote me letters, postcards, sent packages, emails, or just wished me well from afar. While I was in little danger, I can’t easily describe how the support from friends back home made my life easier.
Upon returning, I am, of course, waking up at 2:30AM, wide awake after only a few hours of sleep. But with a long shower, shave and a good meal, I feel much more human than when I got off the plane less than 24 hours ago.
The world has changed since I left 4 months ago.
I know that the world hasn’t changed any more than in any other 4 month period, but for me, everything is different now. Driving through downtown Denver was really hard for me yesterday. I was with some friends who were gracious enough to pick me up at the airport in Colorado Springs and drive me around doing military errands all afternoon before dropping me off at my mother’s place last night. To get there, we drove through the city.
The city, car horns, corners and the gritty.
I was very nervous, so many people all in one place, moving around about their own lives, colors everywhere, cars racing by, a cold crisp dry air I haven’t felt in a year, conversations, screeching tires, capital buildings, churches with steeples instead of minarets, stoplights instead of roundabouts.
Everything is vertical in the city, everything goes straight up. The sky is so small, the people are piles on top of one another. I was looking out the car window and felt myself getting really nervous. I was scared. Sensory overload. After months of nothing but flat desert, with a small population all wearing the same clothing, being dropped in the middle of downtown Denver was a bit of a shock. And despite being so alien to me, it had an old familiar feel to it. I was nervous and on edge, and exhausted from an epic flight, but there was still some semblance of melody calling out to me.
I woke up this morning at 2:30AM, not having a clue where I was, but for some reason feeling very comfortable in a clean, warm bed. The mattresses in Qatar were solid, and sleeping for a night on a decent bed was a luxury.
I awoke, looked up and saw only the ceiling above me. Not the familiar grid lines of the bunk above me that I was expecting, but a very distant ceiling that I couldn’t quite make out in the dark. The air here is different. It’s dry, no humidity. After a few seconds I remembered where I was, and I smiled.
I lay in bed for another hour before getting up. I just lay there in the dark, smiling because I was home. It feels so good to be back. And something in the primitive horizons of my hind-brain was locked on a melody. The melody that scarred me while driving through the city yesterday. That rhythm of the city as an organism, breathing, circulating and pounding out it’s own life. I could feel it, and while it’s going to take me a while to adjust to it, I’m looking forward to familiarizing myself with home again.
I am back. I am unemployed, renting a room from a friend, with no car, and much to do. I must find a home, a car, a job and a medical school. I shall start today, by tracking down my father and seeing where all my belongings wound up in my absence. This shall mean driving through the city a bit, which will be odd. While I’ve driven through cities in the last 4 months, it’s different here. The United States is more grandiose, cunning, subtle and I used to know the rhythms of the town fairly well. I feel rusty when it comes to knowing how to get around, but I’ve got to start somewhere. I can’t hide inside just because it’s strange being home.
I am off to face the world, and on my way, I shall stop at Starbucks for a breakfast consisting of a large vanilla soy chai and a scone. I’ve wanted one of those for months.
Thank you all for welcoming me home. I’m slowly going to realize that the world hasn’t changed here nearly as much as I have. I am now in a state of transition, with only small clues as to where I am going. And it feels good, because I know I’m in a good place. I hope to visit you all soon.
Upon returning, I am, of course, waking up at 2:30AM, wide awake after only a few hours of sleep. But with a long shower, shave and a good meal, I feel much more human than when I got off the plane less than 24 hours ago.
The world has changed since I left 4 months ago.
I know that the world hasn’t changed any more than in any other 4 month period, but for me, everything is different now. Driving through downtown Denver was really hard for me yesterday. I was with some friends who were gracious enough to pick me up at the airport in Colorado Springs and drive me around doing military errands all afternoon before dropping me off at my mother’s place last night. To get there, we drove through the city.
The city, car horns, corners and the gritty.
I was very nervous, so many people all in one place, moving around about their own lives, colors everywhere, cars racing by, a cold crisp dry air I haven’t felt in a year, conversations, screeching tires, capital buildings, churches with steeples instead of minarets, stoplights instead of roundabouts.
Everything is vertical in the city, everything goes straight up. The sky is so small, the people are piles on top of one another. I was looking out the car window and felt myself getting really nervous. I was scared. Sensory overload. After months of nothing but flat desert, with a small population all wearing the same clothing, being dropped in the middle of downtown Denver was a bit of a shock. And despite being so alien to me, it had an old familiar feel to it. I was nervous and on edge, and exhausted from an epic flight, but there was still some semblance of melody calling out to me.
I woke up this morning at 2:30AM, not having a clue where I was, but for some reason feeling very comfortable in a clean, warm bed. The mattresses in Qatar were solid, and sleeping for a night on a decent bed was a luxury.
I awoke, looked up and saw only the ceiling above me. Not the familiar grid lines of the bunk above me that I was expecting, but a very distant ceiling that I couldn’t quite make out in the dark. The air here is different. It’s dry, no humidity. After a few seconds I remembered where I was, and I smiled.
I lay in bed for another hour before getting up. I just lay there in the dark, smiling because I was home. It feels so good to be back. And something in the primitive horizons of my hind-brain was locked on a melody. The melody that scarred me while driving through the city yesterday. That rhythm of the city as an organism, breathing, circulating and pounding out it’s own life. I could feel it, and while it’s going to take me a while to adjust to it, I’m looking forward to familiarizing myself with home again.
I am back. I am unemployed, renting a room from a friend, with no car, and much to do. I must find a home, a car, a job and a medical school. I shall start today, by tracking down my father and seeing where all my belongings wound up in my absence. This shall mean driving through the city a bit, which will be odd. While I’ve driven through cities in the last 4 months, it’s different here. The United States is more grandiose, cunning, subtle and I used to know the rhythms of the town fairly well. I feel rusty when it comes to knowing how to get around, but I’ve got to start somewhere. I can’t hide inside just because it’s strange being home.
I am off to face the world, and on my way, I shall stop at Starbucks for a breakfast consisting of a large vanilla soy chai and a scone. I’ve wanted one of those for months.
Thank you all for welcoming me home. I’m slowly going to realize that the world hasn’t changed here nearly as much as I have. I am now in a state of transition, with only small clues as to where I am going. And it feels good, because I know I’m in a good place. I hope to visit you all soon.