ktravula – a travelogue!

reflections on the world

With Love From Lambert

IMG_3200Dear Blog,

What does one do while sitting idly in an airport cafeteria on a Wednesday morning while waiting for a flight that may or may not be cancelled due to weather conditions? Look around and observe everything that moves and those that don’t.

The cafeteria has a banner just above the bar that says “Carpe Cuervo. Seize the day and the night.” It also has four television sets, each showing different programmes. CNN goes back and forth between The War President Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize, Afghanistan and the terrible snow storms that has got so many flights delayed and many cancelled all through the country this morning. ESPN is on the NBA games, and occasionally the channel flickers to the Tiger Woods story.

IMG_3202The food is horrible, and I’ve returned 3/4 of it uneaten. It’s nothing that I recognize, and I should have obeyed my inner voice never to make an order on the advice of the waitress… The lemonade is good though, and I get a free refill while Fela Kuti sings Follow Follow into my ears. Oh yea, there is also this book that I just bought: The Men Who Stare At Goats by Jon Ronson. It has been made into a movie featuring George Clooney and Kevin Spacey among others. Well, I haven’t seen the movie, but nothing says that I can’t read the book first. The woman at the cashier when I bought the book said I could return it anytime within 90 days and get half the money back. I’ve told her that I have no such intention, yet she gave me the coupon nevertheless. It was so cold out today. You should see how many layers of clothing I’m wearing, yet suffering from occasional invasion from the random wind that blows in my direction even here where I sit in the corner of an indoor cafe.

But wait a minute. If a president who has just sent more soldiers into the war front in a foreign country goes to collect the Nobel Prize for Peace in Oslo tomorrow, what does that make him? A Nobel Peace Prize War President? Would his Nobel Speech be written by the same person who wrote his West Point address that signified the intention to send 30,000 more soldiers into Afghanistan? If so, would he make apologies? If not, would the Nobel Speech distant the man from the policies of his government?

Well, I should probably shut up at this point. It’s ten o’ clock and I’ve got some reading to do, and some people watching.

See ya.

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A Warm Southern Welcome

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On landing at the airport in St. Louis, Missouri, it took quite a while to locate the baggage claim point. Luckily for me, I found a friendly airport staff who pointed out the direction to me:

“You go that way, turn left, walk up the stairs, turn right, turn right again and keep going. It’s pretty easy!”.

I agreed, and followed his direction. I eventually asked somebody else when it seemed that I was gonna get lost, and I found my way at last to M1 where my bag finally came out. The next step was to find my greeters who were at this time nowhere to be found, so I walked towards the exit, and sat down. I was in St. Louis, the beautiful town famous for the likes of Miles Davies the jazz trumpeter. Should I step out of the airport and feed my eyes while I wait for my greeters? I decided against it, and just waited. After about 8minutes of waiting, I took one last walk back to M1, the baggage claim point, where I found someone carrying a sheet of paper that had my name written boldly on it. I brought out my camera and *click* took a picture. I went closer and introduced myself.

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There were two of them: Mary – a student of English Pre-law from the Students Government body, and Sai – an Indian in the Engineering department. They helped with my bags, took me to eat some more flour-based food, and we headed to campus.

I hadn’t had breakfast since morning, and the bagel I ordered in the morning was kinda unsatisfactory because of all the cheese they stuffed in it that I wasn’t used to. Luckily for me, these were students from the International Students Office who had come to bring me to campus, and I could be free to tell them how I really feel. “I would prefer something not made with flour,” I said. And from the first giggle, I knew it was an impossible task.

All for me

All for me

I am now on campus, in my room, after signing for the key, and everywhere I turn to here, there is a sign that bears my name, welcoming me to Edwardsville. I feel special. There is a basket of fruits for me from the International Hospitality Program. There’s also a large paper bag containing everything I must need to be comfortable in this lodging: Pringles, tissue paper, snacks, jotter, pen, crayons, nail clipper, toothbrush, shampoo, hand sanitizer, deodorant, sugar, milk, juice, toothpaste, plastic spoons, chocolate, salted peanuts among many many others that I haven’t yet opened. It’s impossible not to feel special right now. In the fridge is another assortment of food items, all for me. I know this because my name has also been tagged onto the door of the refrigerator.

This is the honeymoon phase. This is my first night. So help me God.

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