Dream Trip to America

The Peace Corps gives volunteers two vacation days per month. The best thing about these days is that they accumulate if you don’t use them. Also, one does not need to use official vacation days to visit other volunteers. So after 1.5 years of service and no official vacation days used I had a lot to spare. The first time I used my vacation days was in June for my first trip home. Then, I used 6 more for my spectacular vacation in the Galapagos with AJ. Turns out, I still had 14 days of vacation unused. I have recently been awarded the position of Co-trainer for the new group of trainees that arrive in February and I am planning on extending 4 months afterwards in Tabuga. I couldn’t see myself using vacation during the extension and didn’t want to waste such preciously earned days off. So, when the opportunity arose last month to head to the northern hemisphere, I didn’t hesitate.

Even though flight prices around the world are sky high, flights to NYC via Latin American airlines are still reasonable. So, my trip landed me in the capital of the developed world. I am assuming that all 400 people in Tabuga couldn’t fill up one apartment building there. The change from Tabuga to NYC is more than just drastic, it’s magical, frightening even. My first night in the JFK airport is telling of my inability to function in such a high speed developed world.

My good friend Becca had arranged for a Super Shuttle to drive me from the JFK airport across NYC to her apartment near Columbia University. My instructions were to go to the Super Shuttle desk, state my name, get in van, pay the driver and arrive at Becca’s NYC pad. As people rushed by me in a New York hurray I admired the advertisements, paying close attention at my snail pace to the signs pointing me through customs and then baggage claim. I successfully followed signs to ground transportation to find that there is no Super Shuttle desk. Apparently, ground transportation has ‘gone modern’, meaning that there is no need for a local friendly smiling receptionist. A kind lady at the general information desk told me to go to the green phones and press 21. Cheery music played as I waited for the next available teller. Candy told me that I needed my confirmation number in order to find my driver. Easy enough, I thought to myself, I’ll call Becca. Unfortunately, credit card pay phones and credit card internet don’t really exist in Ecuador and upon facing them, I lost. Contacting Becca proved to be a failure. Candy must be able to help. Green phone, 21, elevator music, Candy’s voice. Annoyed, Candy said that my driver was looking for me, he has the information, Candy assured me, find him. Luckily, the Super Shuttle guy was yelling out ‘Super Shuttle’ and in a breath of reassurance that I would finally leave JFK, I ran to the man with the cool accent. Apparently he didn’t think my accent was very cool, with an angry look of frustration the cool accent said to me ‘You are speaking Spanish’. Opps, that’s why he couldn’t understand me, I smoothly transitioned to English, mine proving to be better than his, and was turned down. Neither my name, nor Beccas was in his handy dandy modern walkie talkie gadget thing. He waved me toward the green phones and in my head I thought it at the same time as he said it, Press 21.
Candy almost seemed like she was expecting me. I copied the confirmation number and Beccas address quickly and feeling triumphant, turned toward Mr. Cool Accent. He was gone, he had deserted me. I searched on the other side of the green phones, I asked the general information lady. I returned, I pressed 21, Candy was not impressed. She told me to sit on my bag, told me not to move and told me a new driver would be there to get me soon. In about 15 minutes a bilingual (Spanish/English) guy saved me and 1.5 hours after my bag had been claimed I finally left JFK airport. I arrived at Becca’s two hours after my original ETA. The driver asks for $21, the haunting number of the evening. Becca’s security front desk guy had to hold the phone away from his ear as I heard her shrieks ring through the phone. I got in the elevator. So many mirrors, so many buttons... you won’t believe what floor Becca lives on... Press 21.

I hadn’t seen Becca or Christine for almost two years. After girly shrieks and hugs, I took a step back and we all realized we are all the same. It was so incredibly good to see them, my heart felt full of love for these two incredible friends that were waiting up for me. Christine had bussed it from DC to be with me and my appreciation for their friendship is immeasurable. We stayed up until 6 am talking. The next day we even met up with Dan for some delicious beers along the river in NYC then the rest of the day I played tourist and that night we hit the town. The Indian food on Curry Hill was to die for and left me full bellied to enter my first developed world social scene. I didn’t make it passed the little kitchen entrance way until about 30 minutes and one strong drink in. My first conversation with a young businessman type ended poorly, he claimed I made him really jealous, he hates his job and wished he could do something like what I do. I pointed out that at least he made money. He didn’t seem to agree, asked for my blog and that was the end of that. By the end of the night though, I was socializing, dancing with Becca and one of my new favorite people Matt. Only one embarrassing thing happened when I exclaimed ‘Wow, that guy is wicked tall’ and he turned to me and stated ‘That’s because of genetics honey’. I was very apologetic, explaining that I live in Ecuador and always say things out loud in English and no one understands. Awkward, I called myself out for talking to myself. I think that’s when I got another tequila shot... delicious.
Sunday morning, Christine, Becca and I did the breast cancer walk in Central Park. It was incredible and I totally recommend it as a tourist attraction. You get to do something good, see the diversity of NYC peeps, exercise, and see central park and the surrounding area. It was a gorgeous day and I often had to explain to people that I was a tourist because my camera was out every second, I ran into others and would just stop dead in my tracks at the site of a red and orange tree. Being from NH, I grew up with fall foliage but hadn’t seen fall since 2001, my senior year of high school. After delicious cupcakes and window shopping (prices are scary!) we headed back to Becca’s to await AJ and nap. My nap was just me trying to call down which required me to relax on the hammock I had strung up on Becca’s 21st floor balcony overlooking NYC. Hammocks are quintessential to Tabuga and although the scenery was incredibly different, the calming affect was the same.

Once AJ was in NY, I felt way more comfortable, less out of place and Monday morning we started our slow journey northward. This took us through Woodstock, NY, a hike overlooking the Hudson River Valley, winding back roads, small fresh produce markets, North Hampton, Mass, Amherst College and into beautiful NH to my sister’s apartment. Garmin, nicknamed Carmen, AJ’s GPS was an awesome road companion allowing us to get lost, make wrong turns, follow pretty scenery and somehow, end up back on track. Thanks Carmen!

Home was amazing. I got to see so many people who I love and miss dearly. Not to mention I got to see the king of them all Deegan! He´s such an incredible boy and as always it was awesome to see the Arnolds. They really are my other family.

I also got to relive some nice childhood moments like take a hike (or walk) up Mt. Kearsage and visit the Maine coastline and some of my Dad`s childhood spots. I had the chance to visit my extended family in Maine and see some of my cousin´s kids. I also got to hung out with Trinity, a friend from NH who I met in Ecuador and see Lizzy B who flew up from Kentucky to NH to spend the weekend... unbelievable goodness. NH is so beautiful this time of year and being home is so wonderful because it shows me that I do want to be back in the states someday.

AJ, Ang, my mom’s boss and I planned an awesome surprise at Beaver Meadow. My mom knew I was coming home thanks to three different people who spilled the beans but didn’t know when I was to arrive. I sat amongst the third graders in my mom’s library and it took all my might not to yell out at her as she walked in the room. Toni first saw Ang, then AJ and then started searching for me. Apparently, I look a lot like a third grader because I had to jump out at her. It was such an awesome embrace. I love my mommy.

I did presentations for the third and fourth graders about Tabuga and the third graders did a collection of clothes for Tabuga and it was almost too successful. I ended up packing 4 fifty pound bags of donated clothes. This worked out well for me because it required AJ to drive me to NYC to take off. This gave us another night together that we spent in Brooklyn with Elle, Casey, Elle’s beau Luke and a friend Lauren. We had a perfect delicious last super at Elle’s apartment and then I took off for Ecuador with 4 huge bags, great memories and love in my heart for everyone at home.

I am working with the President of the PTA equivalent here to sell the clothes for really cheap ($2 each) and with the money we are going to throw a Christmas Party and all of the kids are going to receive gifts for the holiday. Thank you sooooo much Beaver Meadow Third Graders. It really is a selfless thing they did and an awesome international community service project.