Browsing the archives for the Travelling category.

At The Airport Again

My trip to the East has brought me great rewards, just like the fortune cookie predicted. I have tried to count my blessings but they were too much to number, so I have stopped.

I’m heading back right now to the Midwest. My flight was cancelled this morning due to the fog that had settled all over the Washington DC area. It was rescheduled to the afternoon, and I’m here once again reading faces and counting time. I hope there is someone waiting for me at St. Louis when I get there. They must have waited too long for me to get in touch with them. All that time, I was here agitated and wondering how to get access to the Airport internet. I have now succeeded, after some payment. I hope the email I just sent to my University has been delivered, and is seen on time.

There’s so much to tell you about the East Coast. I will begin as soon as I find the time to. I am grateful for good times: The Fulbright Organization, The State Department, my fellow FLTAs from Nigeria (Mohammed, Folake, Morakinyo, Shade, Omar, Zainab, Clement and Nanchin), my new and old friends (Diana, Tulika, Maha, Hilal, Osama among many others), my host for the night – the Nigerian writer Ikhide Ikheloa (and his family), and all the other new people I was meeting face-to-face for the first time: Bumight, Vera, Sweet&Sour and Chinny. There was also Tyrone at the hotel parking lot who was very nice. I will remember Maryland, DC, and this experience, because of them.

Till later.

G is for Goodbye

IMG_3625Oh no, not another alphabetic title, you say! Well, my time in this enchanting city is now over. In less than eight hours from this moment, I will be entering another mode of transportation out of the District of Columbia.

We have just had a wonderful session of international dancing in the ballroom of our wonderful hotel…

We have also been given certificates of participation, and the shirt pins that will mark us from now on as “Fulbright Fellows” for the rest of our lives.

We have shed our tears and said our goodbyes. For many of us going back to different parts of the country, we would not be seeing each other again until we return home. But what a great time we had.

The photo was taken at the base of the Washington Monument

Washington DC, On Foot

IMG_3260The first thing I did after checking into the Hyatt hotel and finding out that the registration for the conference will take place much later in the evening, and that I had more than three idle hours to burn, was to pick up a map of the capital, and set out to discover it, on foot. Because of the so many American movies I have seen I had a certain confidence that I knew just where everything was located. The Capitol, a magnificent Dome that houses the two houses of the United States Legislature stood just a stone throw from the Hotel, so it was the obvious first choice. The first thing that I noticed was the not so adequate number of traffic lights. The traffic lights were indeed different in design from the ones I’m familiar with at Edwardsville, but they were not enough. Some times, I just had to cross the road the Nigerian style – after looking left, right, left and right again – when there was no light to guide.

IMG_3299After I left the Capitol, whose interior I could not access only because it had closed to the public just a few minutes earlier, I headed to the Washington Monument. The Washington Monument is a brick obelisk structure built to commemorate the life of the city’s founding father President George Washington. Just like the Capitol, the Washington Monument was closed to the public, or I would have loved to go up to its top if there was such a chance, and look down on the city. According to Wikipedia, it is is both the world’s tallest stone structure and the world’s tallest obelisk, standing 555 feet 5⅛ inches, and representing the dead president’s overlooking eyes over his capital.

IMG_3328From the Washington Monument, I had two choices: The White House or the Lincoln Memorial, both of them almost equidistant from the Washington Monument. I chose The White House first. The long walk across public parks and winding roads to the White House took almost twenty minutes, only because I walked fast without stopping even for air. It was beginning to get dark. I got there in time, peeped through the black iron gates to look at First Lady Michelle’s garden project pictures displayed within reach inside. I could see the South Lawn fountain at a stone throw in front of me. on the second floor of the side of the building facing where I stood was also the Oval Office, where the president spends most of his office time. I was indeed looking at the magnificent mansion in which most of the world’s most important decisions were reached. I have never seen the State House of Nigeria. I don’t know what it looks like, nor do I know where exactly it is located.

IMG_3353I then went, still on foot, towards the Lincoln Memorial – the site of the now famous “I Have A Dream” speech. It comprises of a small building which houses a larger than life marble sculpture of President Abraham Lincoln staring out towards the Obelisk of the Washington Monument. Actually, between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial is a long Reflecting Pool around which hundreds of thousands of supporters and civil right activists stood and sat while Reverend Martin Luther King Jnr read his speech. Looking at the sculpture of the late president did not fail to humble and inspire. On the walls to either of his hands were inscriptions from Abraham Lincoln’s famous speeches, and right behind the large marble sculpture are the words: “In this temple, as in the hearts of the people for whom he saved the union, the memory of Abraham Lincoln is enshrined forever.” Those words, along with the ones on the wall, bring a kind of solemnity and awe to the already hallowed feel of the memorial, and I left feeling quite inspired, especially when I think of the fact that on those same steps out of the building was where the words “I have a dream” were first uttered in a way that sowed a seed of hope whose result is now being felt all over the United States.

The walk back to the Hyatt was not easy nor short, but the sense of fulfillment and enlightenment from the trip gave me a lift that I would never trade for the world.

NOTE: More pictures coming soon

I Was Very Close

The following conversation took place a few minutes after my flight landed at the Reagan Airport in Washington DC this afternoon. The conversation had been waiting to happen since my first five minutes into the plane. I had taken my seat close to the window, and suddenly noticed a short but pretty white girl walking down the aisle. She walked past my row and took her seat on the other side of the plane, about two rows behind me. We exchanged glances, and she smiled. I wanted to say more but I kept quiet. The reason why was that the man who took the middle seat beside me didn’t look friendly and I didn’t want to look like an ass, especially since the lady was a little far away. It would be hard to make a conversation without making some noise. So I kept quiet. But every time I looked back, our eyes met and we repeated the same short smiles. On her part, it must be because she didn’t want to be rude. On my part, it was because I desperately wanted her to acknowledge that we had indeed met somewhere before even though I couldn’t immediately remember where.

Two hours later, the plane was at a stand-still and a queue had formed in the aisle for those who wanted to disembark, so I reached over the unfriendly looking man and broke the ice.

“Hi, how are you.”IMG_3218

“Fine,” she replied. “And you?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, but do you attend SIUE?”

“No,” she said.

Oops.

“Oh, ok. Really? You look really familiar. Is it Principia University then?”

“No.”

Carbondale?”

“No, I attend Webster University.”

I’d never heard that name before in my life. And then I think I saw the man beside me giggle.

“I’m really sorry then,” I said. “You look really really familiar. I know that I’ve seen you somewhere before. That university that you attend – Webster – is it in Illinois?”

“No, it’s in Missouri.”

“Oh, alright.”

Damn! Right then, I could have just disappeared under the seat because I had successfully made an ass of myself not once or twice, but many times in the presence of about a dozen people within earshot of the curious conversation. All of them were white, and grown up, except the object of my tenacious attention. Not that it mattered much that they were white, but with their silence, I began to wonder what they must think of me. And then it hit me.

“Are you a Fulbrighter?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God. Of course you are! What a relief. You were in Providence, Rhode Island in August with me?”

“Oh yes.”

“Oh whew! That explains it then. Of course that was where I first saw you. I still have you in my photo albums. I know that I’d seen you somewhere before. I don’t usually forget faces. How silly of me to have forgotten to mention Fulbright.”

“Yea. I’m so sorry I couldn’t remember you.”

“No problem. I know I am not crazy!”

Now the man beside me, who was still on his seat because the airplane’s door hadn’t been opened and nobody had left the plane even though everyone else was on their feet, began to smile and looked at me with a look that finally seemed forgiving. It was such a relief.

“So how is the experience so far?” I asked.

We went on and on right there in the aisle talking about what we had done, and how stressful, fun, enjoyable, interesting, etc the experience had been for us. She’s from Germany, and she is the only Fulbright FLTA in her university. She teaches seven students and takes a tutorial for about forty more, she said. At some point, our hitherto unfriendly passenger joined in and shared his love for the museums in Cahokia and the Gateway Arch as well. It turned out that we were both heading to the same Conference, and we were both looking forward to meeting over four hundred others.

It was my first memorable welcoming into the nation’s capital, and when I left the plane, I couldn’t tell whether it was meeting someone familiar, or being absolved of that suspicion of stalking that made me happiest. But it was a happy moment of warm welcoming.

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.