America and Bust

Home or Bust (probably bust)

So here I sit, wondering again what the future will hold. I have crossed thousands of miles and warped both time and reality once again in my return across the Pacific. My plane left Sydney at 9:25 PM on July 28th and it will be arriving in San Francisco at 9:20 PM on July 28th. This means that as far as our conception of time is understood, for a brief few moments I will exist in two places at once. Between 9:20 and 9:25, I will exist both in America and in Australia. Perhaps, this is the most fitting and poetic representation of the past 8 months. As I have spent my time in Australia straddling the mindset of both an American and an Australia. Yet now as I find myself stepping once again on US soil I wonder if that is a mindset which will never leave me, or if that is even a bad thing.

Expanding one's view of the world is a good thing, and being away from home for so long allows you to see that home through new and unimagined eyes. Unfortunately, my first few days back within my own borders were not exactly paradise. As I soared over the Pacific I made one stop on the island of Honolulu, an idyllic and tropical land of warmth and happiness. I was only scheduled to have a little under two hours in this gateway to America as I changed flights... unfortunately that time span rapidly shortened as my flight from Sydney to Hawaii was delayed by nearly an hour. Which meant that I had approximately 45 minutes to change planes. Also unfortunate, was the fact that I had to go through US Customs and Immigration in this short time period, which also meant I had to collect and recheck my luggage. So as (my) luck would have it I apparently was traveling with a platoon of US Army soldiers returning from leave in Australia. This was interesting as I had a conversation with some of them, but it was also bad as since they all had military ID's they were practically immune to random bag inspections. So I was the only one left to be picked for a random bag inspection, which tacked on a good 20 minutes to my already hectic time frame.

So as random bag inspections go, it was hardly random. Still, I placidly endured the questioning and watched as the TSA representative rifled through my dirty towels and clothing to find absolutely nothing of any interest. To his credit he was very understanding and he tried to push the process along as quickly as possible, knowing that I was due to board a flight in 20 minutes. I realize such security inspections are necessary, but the whole thing was still a major time consuming inconvenience. It works under the same principle of driving behind old ladies or catching all the traffic lights when your late to work. Maybe it was Adam's Law just rearing its ugly head one more time to remind me that life is not always going to be perfect or smooth. We just need to make the best of what we have got.

After clearing immigration, I took my bag and sprinted through the 100 degree Hawaiian airport to make it to my next flight. I checked my bag in a mere 15 minutes before the plane was set to depart and then sprinted my way down to gate 33 at the other end of the airport. I arrived just in time to make the flight, thought I doubt my seat mates were happy, as I was profusely sweating and still wearing the sweater and light-jacket I had been wearing in Sydney. I hoped that was the end of my inconveniences and I sat back to await my arrival in San Francisco. I should have known it was never that simple.

I arrive in the Bay City a mere five hours later. As it was night time, I weary dragged myself off the plane and the the proper luggage carousal to await my baggage. So I waited, and waited, and waited some more. Finally when all my fellow passengers had happily received their luggage I realized that mine was not among them. All there was remaining was a discarded baby carriage and suspicious brown package with more duct tape than cardboard holding it together. It had finally happened. After many many months of travel, the airline had finally lost my luggage. The only clothing I had for the next two days was the sweaty dirty t-shirt and jeans I had arrived. (I was looking forward to changing into shorts, but that never happened.) So for my first two days in San Francisco I was sans-clothing.

I did eventually receive my luggage. It was dropped off at the hostel I was staying at and upon arrival I was finally able to have a shower (with soap and shampoo), shave, and finally put on a pair of shorts for my Californian summer. My luggage never made it onto the plane and thus it spent a few extra days in Hawaii. (My luggage gets to go on better vacations than I do.) Apparently, you cannot check your bags 15 minutes before departure and expect them to arrive on time.

Still, I suppose this was as fitting way as any to return to the country of my birth. It proved to me that challenges do not stop because you return to a familiar place. Obstacles and inconveniences are everyday occurrences and not anything to get too excited over. Lost luggage will eventually be found, and even random bag inspections cannot delay the inevitable. I'm home.