White Lady

It was my second day in America. Last day I just arrived in this new crazy country and has already

traveled quite a few hundred miles from Chicago to Miami, on the first day itself, cause I had a

connection from there. It was just like a movie scene. So many white people around me with very few

familiar faces who wouldnt dare to smile at me, cause we all were here to make a new identity apart from

our pasts, just waiting to blend in with the white color. I had to go from terminal 5 (as I remember) to

terminal 3, and the airport was as big as Sodala (my sector in Jaipur). I didnt know what to do but I was

scared to ask anyone, scared if I would utter the right words. But then instead of being losts, I gathered

my strength and asked a police officer what to do to go to terminal three. He said something and of which

I figured out that I have to a take a train to reach there. Well it wasnt a big train, it was just a small metro

connecting different part of the OHare airport. But I before getting on the train I already committed my

first stupid mistake of taking the wrong lift. The officer told me to take the next one and feeling ashamed

(dont know why) of acting as stupid, I went for the second elevator. I was brave though, I was finding

my way in the new country, which was the airport right now, on my own with no one familiar to ask

from. But then I chose this option.

Somehow I kept hold of my bravery and did things to manage to call my professor to ask him if he is

going to pick me up, and then board on the plane to Miami, where I met my first savior fellow Indian. She

was around late 40 and was really friendly. She gave me some advice of how to settle in America, which I

wasnt interested at that moment (and as of right now still not interested), but I kept on listening and

talking to her. I needed some extra quarters to call my professor once I reach Miami and so I asked her for

one dollar. She was quite generous, and to my shame, she gave me five dollars. I never liked when

people help me more then I needed cause I feel ashamed when I cant help them back, but right now I had

no other option. At the end of the trip, I thanked her for her generous advices and 5 dollars and bid adieu

to never meet her again, the kind of person I am.

At the airport my professor came and took me to the place where I already booked a room, and was

expecting that place to exist in the real world. It was a nice house, in the beginning, but right now I just

wanted a bed to lay into, and sleep. There was a Columbian guy, a friend of other Columbian tom whom

the house belonged to, waiting to receive me and give me the keys of the home. My profs. left me there

with my baggage, the kind of formality I expected him to do, was done. I had a talk with my receiver for

around an hour, cause I thought it would be inappropriate to just go and sleep, then I asked him for a

leave so that I can have my sleep which I was holding for last 30 hours. As soon as I went to bed, I knew I

was no more talking in the real world, and only next morning I woke up to feel that I am not dreaming at

all.

So this was the day when I was going to the university for the first time and it was pretty early in the

morning around 8 or so, but it was according to the plan. I had a map of the place and the bus route and I

took that bus for my commute. There was a blonde, if a remember correctly, chubby American women, in

front of me, and she suddenly said something, asking me if am looking for something. I thought this was

they way I am going to meet and talk to new people and I got excited to have my first conversation. She

turned out to be an ambigious best-seller, though I failed to see if she ever had been to high school ever;

but I kept quite and showed my fake interest in her story, because I knew that she would end in mine.