A week. Views and landscapes flitting rapidly by…..my eyes, taking it all in. Welcome to America.
Forgive me if I’ve gone on too long about the virtues of a bucket list but I am a firm believer in having faith.
The bible defines faith as ‘calling those things forth that be not, as though they were’.
10 years ago, I wrote a list at the start of the New Year. A list of 4 things I wanted to accomplish – be closer to God, enjoy my family, get a good job and do something creative. At the end of that year (2001), I had accomplished every single thing on the list with visible, tangible results. Now don’t get me wrong, this doesn’t work for some people, but it does for me. It’s not to say that everything I’ve written down like ‘become rich and famous’ will happen. Well, actually, to me it does. To me, writing is taking a leap of faith; it is daring to dream and knowing I will awake with some hope that I will see evidence soon of what I believe.
Thomas Troward expresses it so beautifully. He says ‘Desire will in due time externalize itself as concrete fact.’
So I write down my desires and I see them take form, shape themselves into reality and happen. And so by many twists and turns in a long road, I find myself on a plane to America. When I push up the shutters just an inch, all I see is white. As the plane bumps up and down, swinging its hips to turbulence’s dance, we slowly (at 585km/hour) drift into the lightest of grey clouds. Light pours into the section of the plane where I’m sitting on a sunny afternoon. I will not miss my first views of the United States of America, whether the butterflies in my stomach sway along with the wind and the Continental airplane, or not.
I want to embrace the ‘scapes of the land of freedom before touchdown. We emerge from the cotton wool haze and angry tufts of clouds line up, raised humps like camels with sharp, stubby toes. Like battleships, they seem ready for war, whether it be from wind or some other element of nature. In no time we get past them and the ground is suddenly revealed – the green of forests and the grey of roads and pyramid-tipped buildings fill my view, as do the shiny turquoise squares, ovals and circles of swimming pools.
Just before we land, I see a road that reminds me of when I was young and had a nice train set. The highway with its ten lanes, five on either side with tiny coloured cars makes me feels as though, like a child again, I can suddenly pick up my remote control and turn a car around. I don’t attempt this, deep as I am in my reverie, but it occurs to me.
We land and I’m through customs, pepper soup spices and cookies declared and still in hand – my friends will rejoice. I emerge into the lobby of George Bush International airport and I’m in awe for two reasons – one is the presence of ‘superstars’, almost everyone I lay my eyes on reminds me of Hollywood, my eyes accustomed to years of American movies; and the other is the lack of shops, yes there’s a Starbucks and then a Wall street Journal shop and a few others but it’s not what I expect. I thought it would be teeming with stores……and food places.
Outside the window, I see yellow taxi cabs in rows and many patterned Buick cars. As I sit and wait for my friends to pick me up, I sweep my eyes around the hall and see mostly men in black…suits that is –chauffeurs waiting to welcome guests. The heat hits me as my brows drip with drop after drop of sweat and my forehead shines with anticipation and excitement. There is the man who reminds me of Denzel Washington, tall and towering in his black suit, tan shoes and black aviator glasses. With black curly hair and black leather gloves, he could easily, quite easily be a movie star. Just like the medium build, slightly stocky brown-skinned man with a wonderfully white panama hat. He walks with a slight limp, also in a black suit. Everywhere I turn, I see diversity – I see my American ‘sistas’, with gorgeous hair which I’ve always envied, walking, chatting, smiling. This is part of the America I’ve always known and so somehow, I feel at home.
In the meantime, the only evidence I see of ‘large’ is a huge, tall drinking cup in the hands of girl wearing a yellow shirt and sipping on a pink straw. The top of the cup reminds me of a spaceship, or a planet for that matter, with its transparent dome. The rest of the cup is stepped, with the top half wider than the bottom. I smile. Supersize springs to mind and gives me a nod, showing me where I am.
I see loads of lakes and estates of lakes…….but it is nowhere as warm as I imagined. Still I am refreshed by it all.
My friends arrive, hugs exchanged and luggage in the trunk, we speed away, to grey, concrete roads that remind me of home in Nigeria, even if here they are larger and wider here. That came as a surprise to me, coming from the Netherlands where roads are mostly black and made of tar. I’m looking out with eagerness and I see space, space, space. There’s a lot of room. As we chat and exchange news about all the happenings since Christmas, I see green road signs. Pasadena. Sugarland. Daisy Ashford. Texas. Just like Nigeria to me. We get to Memorial lane and I’m stunned to see traffic lights hanging of electric power lines. What happened to the regular traffic lights with stands? I ask my friends and they say they also shared my wonder and bewilderment when they first arrived.
I’m am intrigued by the houses made out of hard, dry wood.
I try to stay awake to counteract the effects of jet-lag so I can go to bed at ‘bedtime’, and not now at 5pm, which is midnight in the Netherlands. I can’t though and I lie down for an hour. My friend wakes me up with news that the pepper soup and Texas toast are ready. I hurry down to a steaming bowl of catfish pepper soup with new russet potatoes that are perfect accoutrements for the soft and perfectly cooked fish. The potatoes make a superb replacement for the yam. After dinner and lots of chatter, I’m still tired and retire to bed. I’m out in a flash and up in an instant, at 4am. I can’t go back to sleep, so I grab a glass of water and read my lonely planet guide to Texas, the Houston chapter. When I’m done, I fire up my laptop to write….this…..and when I’m done, I return to my big yellow book ‘The Art of Possibility’.
In the week I’m here, I learn that Houston is almost a wildlife reserve…….. I spot a raccoon, a turtle sitting on some rocks and thankfully avoided all the (still sleeping) snakes.
The sight of ‘fine’ utensils calms me down.
I was extremely excited about my visit to Wholefoods. Again I came across okro, this time deep fried to make okro chips. While wrestling with my camera to take a photo of this weird and previously unencountered sight, a Wholefoods employee came up to me, thinking I was a ‘vendor’. I disabused him of that…..all the while still standing next to the jar of okro chips. He offered me some to taste and at first bite, everything was fine. Then halfway through I realized that it wasn’t going well, this taste experience. It ended up in the bin….and I happily spent my Wholefoods card, only going over by $2.
I watched loads of TV – the food network to be precise. Chopped, Rachael Ray, Paula Dean and Cupcake wars. And I ate sweet potato pie. Every thought I had of it being horrible has vanished – I look forward to Thanksgiving this year when I will invite myself to the home of a true American wherever we are and have myself a wedge.
And I stopped by at both Target and Walmart, the later merely a tick box exercise.
I purchased a baster and a flavour injector at Target which I expect to use long before its Turkey season!
I’m excited I’ve now been to the US. Excited and planning a return trip that has me playing a guessing game. Though in my heart of hearts I think I ought to continue the journey of American discovery with NYC. Ney York City. But that won’t be anytime soon by my plans. I’ll have to finish all the Goldfish cookies before I return….
And ensure I use some of my amazon.com purchases. Take this small three-tier cake pan. I accidentally ordered two pans.
I got this lovely giant cupcake pan from TJ Maxx – it was a $10 steal.
As was my cupcake stand which I held gingerly in my hand …luggage.
Ziplocs, a candy funnel and grilling planks…..
But its my food gel colours which I’m thrilled about and have kept well away from my kids and their play dough/kitchen experiments!
I’ve also been enjoying my new books..
…discovering my roots.
I had a great week. Came back and didn’t feel too well for a whole seven days after. It appears as if it was jet lag. What a wimp I say to myself. This one trip knocked me out – so much for my richa nd famous jetsetting lifestyle. I won’t last a day!
Stay well. And more recipes anon.