The day arrived and yours truly stood up for the task, and the customs check, arriving safely into the Newark Airport. I had exactly one Sacagawea dollar and one quarter in the top of my bag, just enough for the number 60 New Jersey bus to Newark Penn Station. I smiled at the attendant complaining that someone was asking for help in Spanish. I smiled at our excessively large highways with enormous signs and SUVs. I smiled at the NY hats (flat billed) that every single male boarding the bus was wearing. Hopping on the train to Manhattan, I felt out of place listening to my India soundtrack in my homecountry, but I smiled at NY moustache flirting with an overweight blonde tourist in the corner of my car.
I managed to bring together nine people from various parts of my life (Austin, Oberlin, Beijing, Farm & Wilderness, and Washington University) for a feast hosted by the every gracious Wills at his apartment. I saw uncles and cousins, and even caught a comfortable introspective train ride out to Long Island to see my lovely grandparents, who mistakenly offered me more food than a rice-diet-accustomed-stomach ought to pack in, leading to numerous food comas.
Back in Austin now, reunited with parents and siblings, as my kind sister is visiting for the weekend, another friend is coming out next weekend, and I carry on to San Francisco, then Portland in March. Did Ghengis Khan ever settle down? Well this Indian bread will soon be done rolling for a while; further conquering is delayed until enough bravery and funding have been stored up for another adventure.
Thanks for tuning in.