I must admit, I was more than a little nervous about coming home. Although it wasn’t so much the arriving part as it was the nineteen hours of travel part. After having been a stranger to the US for almost a year, the airport was kind of a crash course on the American culture. Those of you who have spent a significant amount of time outside the US probably already know what I am talking about, but for those of you who haven’t, let me explain.
Even without ever leaving the airport, you can learn a lot about a country’s culture. When I checked into my flight in Lima, my luggage was 3 kilos over the limit (but hey, considering I was packing 2 years into 2 bags, I didn’t feel like that was too bad). However, with only minimal effort on my part, the rules were bent and I didn’t have to pay extra. That, my friends, is Peru. Nothing is set, whether we are talking traffic rules, prices, or even laws. However, on every other plane that I tried to board, I found myself scrambling to comply with some new rule that they had come up with while I was on my way there. I went from being allowed three carry on bags to two, and then back to three on a later flight when one of the bags was too big and they had me take stuff out of it (which happened to be the things I had stuffed in there to make two bags). Standing in line is also something that Americans take very seriously, and I found myself fighting the urge to slip to the front like I would in Peru, where everyone pretends they can’t see all the people waiting.
And then there is the difference in prices, which is jaw-dropping. On one flight, the only food available you had to pay for. The lady next to me didn’t speak English, and because of a three-hour stop in immigration she hadn’t had time to buy anything for lunch. When I told her the prices, she was shocked. When I then explained that they didn’t accept cash, only credit cards, she thought I was lying. Most places in Peru don’t take cards; almost everything is done in cash, so she thought that bringing $20 along would keep her well fed until she landed. In fact, $20 would keep you fed and buy you a hotel room in Peru, but on a flight from Miami, it gets you nothing. Not even a pair of headphones to watch the inflight movie ($2, cards only). Land of the free started sounding very ironic right at that moment.
But when I finally landed late that night, I was more than happy to embrace my family and my culture. Instead of a Peruvian taxi trying to overcharge me, my parents’ car was waiting. Instead of a crazy traffic and horrible roads, I was able to relax on a smooth ride home, not once wondering if I was about to be involved in a head on collision. I poured myself a glass of water, throwing in some ice with a huge smile. And then… I did a practice leap into every bed in the house, before settling with a contented sigh on my parents’ couch, something I have yearned for many, many times.
More thoughts on my first days in the US will follow, but for now, it’s good to be back. I’ve missed it.
September 1, 2009