Chicagoland

2/08/2006

4.50 pm, Heathrow, Flight AA009: Body search and opening of hand luggage for non-American citizens. And the trip begins.Destination: Chicago, Illinois.
7: 05 pm, Illinois. The pilot informs us that we cannot land because of a great thunderstorm. The clouds are huge and the thunders and lightnings intimidating...
08: 18 pm, Chicago. I land in the midst of the jungle; at least, this is how I feel. My crutch helps me to avoid queues but not lack of sympathy by some people. At the immigration desk, the guy reminding me something of the 'bad cop' of Hollywood who never smiles, greets an American citizen saying "Welcome home." Without looking at me in the eye and while checking my visa and taking fingerprints he asks "What is the purpose of your trip?" (To throw a bomb at yer face you fucking morone!). "I am attending a conference" I answered. Outside, humidity does not let me breathe. Thunders tear the sky into two parts. The taxi driver reminds me an aged version of Samuel Jackson (with hair). I am tired and stressed. My foot hurts. Suddenly, the city of Chicago emerges as if from a film trailer or a postcard. I am speechless. It is really impressive.I think I must be dreaming.

02.13 am, Chicago. My body clock refuses to adapt immediately to the 6-hour difference. It is impossible to sleep. Even reading fails to help.

The clock outside Robert Morris Center says 12.45 pm. I am having coffee and lunch at Panera Bread next to University Center. The girl sitting opposite my table, with the laptop on her knees is probably surfing on the internet constantly pressing keys. It is funny that I am writing about her. She maybe wonders about what I am writing too, sitting on that table in the corner with my half-eaten panini (I hate bacon!Why didnt I realise I ordered a sandwich with bacon?) Next to me, a group of four American academics chat incessantly about their careers. I an too tired and jet-lagged to follow their conversation. A yellow cab is parked outside the door and the Afro-American cabbie rushes out probably to get some take-away lunch, talking on his cell-phone. The rain refuses to stop (bbc weather said it would be sunny). You know, traffic lights for pedestrians are really weird. They have a red palm for 'stop' and a white little guy for 'go'. Somewhere at the background, the infamous flag is flapping slightly. Why didnt I get my umbrella?

6/08/2006

2.00 pm. Canada. I am flying over the Atlantic again. The other way round this time. Over Detroit, Toronto, Quebec and all these places I will probably never visit. There is this ineffable feeling between drawing an imaginary itinerary on the world map where everything seems so close, or look for places you've seen in films or you have visited on Google Earth and actually physically reaching these places. Time and space are so relative. 6 hours ahead, 6 hours behind, somebody wakes up, someone else goes to sleep, another is waiting for his/her loved-ones to come home, a woman is walking on the beach, a man is looking at the moon, I am waiting at the bus stop watching a plane taking off and thinking "tomorrow at that time I will be on the other side of the Atlantic." As simply as that. The world is inconceivably huge and yet so small. Even in Chicago I accidentaly met one of my former classmates last year.
I sit back and I recall. I remember yesterday's walk with Judy after my presentation, crossing Michigan avenue formally dressed and strolling along the lake. On the one hand, skyscrapers stand still, inscrutable, on the other hand, the port with the yaughts and people celebrating at the pier playing saxophones. We walk in-between, to reconcile these two opposite images, among people who are dressed in shorts, who are cycling or strolling or have come for the Loolapalloza concert at the Grant Park. I can hear a song I know, but I can't remember the band! "....see me, they don't believe me..." I hum. Happy faces everywhere, Latinos, Blacks and Whites, a vibrating mixture of colour and sound. Why do I have to leave tomorrow?I feel that I belong everywhere now. I wish the world was always carefree and kind like at that very instant. Unfortunately, sooner or later I had to wake up. This was a very short break from reality when the war in Lebanon is still raging and bigotry - this everlasting King - is as powerful as ever.