I sit here on a southbound train
listening to beautiful Irish melodies through my ear buds hoping to block out
the conversation taking place in front of me. The same two friends who miraculously
reconnected on the train last night are still reminiscing over old times and
new occurrences. Their deep southern
drawls and overly loud voices penetrate my thoughts as well as their overly
abundant aromas which are a mix of cheap cigarette smoke, Cheetos, and lack of
showering.
The view
outside my window tells a different story, a story of homecoming. I am going
home, my family and address is behind me but I am going home to the coast; to
the loud sounds and overpowering smells which bring back the happiest memories
of my childhood. I have not been back since a storm ripped my childhood away. I
have not been back for fear of what has changed, but now I am so changed from
the child I was that I would see the city with different eyes regardless of
actual change. There are buildings outside my window that show different
cultures that are completely foreign to the northern classmates of mine.
My
journey began yesterday evening, I had just finished my last final of the
semester when I took my belongings to the basement. The first leg of this
journey was made by shuttle; this shuttle delivered us to the nearby city link
station. The city link station is a life line for many in the Peoria area; our
urban city experience began with a deeper look into a different side of our own
urban city. The next leg of this long journey took place on the most ill-fated
bus I have ever experienced. This bus was a twilight zone experience worthy of
its own episode. The driver disembarked with a gasp at the number of people
awaiting her, her shock set all our nerves on edge. Why was she so surprised to
see us? Did she not know a group of eager college students would be awaiting
her? After some slight exacerbation on the drivers part and some exceptional
planning on the part of leader we embarked the bus. The bus that made us all
fear for our lives. The heat did not work.
Now that
this fact has sunk in I will repeat myself, THE HEAT DID NOT WORK. But not only
did the heat not work, there was also an apparent malfunction with the air
conditioner which made it blow on full blast at all times. We were on a bus, in
December, in Illinois, with no heat but rather full blast AC. To add to this
excitement of impending hypothermia, there were no outlets on this bus so we
could not charge our phone which is enough to send any modern day college
student into full meltdown mode.
To survive
the twilight zone bus I built myself a very respectful and adult blanket fort.
I was half napping, happy as could be in my blanket fort when we apparently
pulled over. I removed the seal on my hand made Tan Tan to the cold icy outside
to investigate the stillness in our journey. To my horror, due to the lack of
heat the windows had begun to fog over, obscuring the driver’s view of the
road. As we all watched the driver wiped away the fog on the windows and embarked
again on our journey. As we all let the new reality sink in that we would be
stopping ever few miles to allow the driver to clear her field of vision, a
hero stepped up. For the purposes of this post we shall call her superwoman,
because super girl is just demeaning, this hero stepped up while we all sat
silence still absorbing our new reality. She walked to the front of the bus to
wipe the windows for the driver; a round of applause went up from the popsicles
formerly known as passengers. She had saved us, from a much longer ride and
possible death due to exposure.
So I sit
here on a southbound train which is now quiet, since the start of this post the
smelly hillbillies have ran out of Cheetos and stories and are now sleeping. I
sit here happy with the warmth that is provided to me from the working heater
on this train, I sit here on my laptop
being happily charging with the wall
outlet provided by the train, I sit here happy and prepared for the next stage
of our journey.
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