Chapter FIVE

We arrive in America, for the FRC world championships. This chapter is probably my most descriptive yet, but i wont know, unless you tell me :)

 

Chapter FIVE

 

I remember the tension, that uncontrollable excitement that I so struggled to conceal, I was almost shaking, still struggling to believe I was going to America. As the air port grew bigger and the huge tail rudders started to appear, it’s almost as if time stopped, it felt like those few minutes approaching the airport took years. As we were walking to the check-in, logic caught up with me, and all my dreams, became reality.

My eyes scoured the busy check-in lounge for the rest of our team, they weren’t too hard to find, since we all wore our team clothes, black track pants and green shirts, which represented our country. After we checked in, and my faint attempt to which was supposed to resemble a goodbye for 3 weeks, I was eager to enter the air port lobby, for very boyish and slightly childish reasons. I wanted to see the magnificent Boeings, and aeroplanes that occupied the huge boarding docks which so greatly occupied every window view that stretched out over the vast asphalt plains. Keep in mind; it was the very first time I would fly internationally, and the first flight experience that would be imprinted in my memory, since I haven’t flown in years. Nevertheless, we boarded soon enough, and to so precisely describe my intricate thoughts and emotions of amazement and magnificence of the preceding few hours would ridiculously bore you to the point of physical excretion. After which you might have to replace a few valuable items that were once fully intact in the surrounding area to which you were located at this unfortunate time, and I thought I might refrain from doing that for consumer purposes. And for personnel convenience I thought I might avoid being sued or accused by some imbecile for causing intentional death of one unfortunate enough to have suffered from a cardiac arrest in the event of personnel amusement by visually consuming a series of humoristically written paragraphs. Of which the author would happen to be me, and it would be a lose-lose situation. So by saving you from the previous series of predicted possible unfortunate events, there would be no fatalities and I would carry on living this happy little part of my life, attempting to write my biography.

 

It was the longest flight anyone can imagine, and certainly a marathon of a trip for my first international tour. We flew from Johannesburg to Dakar and from Dakar to Atlanta and from Atlanta to Detroit. In all, we flew approximately 26 hours. I have never in my life caused so much spastic pains to my frantic cramping bottom. I have to say it was rather painful, if I remain dormant for to long, my body has rather effective techniques of keeping me active, I get uncontrollable cramps in my rear end muscles, and my legs, and my back.

It’s all so overwhelming, but I made it through, I didn’t manage to sleep one minute, I never do on flights. No matter how long or far I ever fly, a Boeing 757, travelling at 800km/h, and sleep is a big “no!” in my book.

 

Nevertheless, we arrived (quite remarkably alive) on Atlanta airport, one of the biggest international airports in the world. This, of course, was rather breathtaking, a single terminal stretched out over thousands of scurrying heads, to an endless wormhole engulfing every unfortunate passenger in its magnificent giganticness. And there were 4 terminals. It would take you all day to scurry through from one terminal to another, thus there were underground trains to transport you quickly and effectively. This experience also managed to find its way to my head by means of a tingly shiver up my spine. We arrived at the baggage claim, retrieved our bags, and went to the arrivals hall, where we waited for our hosts.

The next few minutes was very memorable, I will never forget it. For the first time in our lives, me and Frikkie experience the overwhelming sensation, the heavenly taste, the magical serenity, the extraordinary escapism that the legendary Caribou Coffee engulfed our senses with. This was followed by a few wacky photos and some more waiting.

 

Our hosts arrived to break the silence of boredom with cheerful shrieks and happy smiles from all around. We were greeted by Lindsay Anderson, a pretty blonde with flourishing smile and the type of mesmerizing eyes that left you speechless when confronted by her. To my delight, I found out that she would be our hosts, along with my ‘room buddy.’

We took our first drive in the United States of America, which was quite an experience, different from what we were used to, since they drive on the wrong side of the road. And of course this resulted in a stretched out argument over whó actually drove on the wrong side, us, or the Americans. Nonetheless, that first drive through the bland, ice cold desolated hills and naked scenery was very memorable, one of my few treasured memories that come to mind when I think back.

 

One of the most Distinguishable differences between America, and South Africa, is that in America, there is no differences. Every single house in the neighbourhood looks almost exactly the same from the outside. I was astonished, every single turn and road seemed to resemble the last one, It seemed a mystery to me how they even get around! Nevertheless, we arrived at one of the team supervisors’ houses, and from there split up, as our individual hosts arrived to take us to their houses for the next few days. We would stay here with our hospitable hosts before the World Championships kick off in Atlanta.

 

After another few minutes of driving in a big circle for all I knew. We stopped at one of the 56 houses in the neighbourhood, all with the same resembling complexion, and a “peace in Iraq” signs in the front porch window. A few other houses also had a huge American flag hanging from their porch, as to create the impression which implies “yes that’s right, you are in America.” As if we didn’t just fly 26 hours to get to a country, where we are constantly reminded we actually are in, just in case we got kidnapped by some terrestrial life, brainwashed, and safely returned to earth. “Was it just me, or were there really other primates like me who knew about planet Zionagore?” I thought to myself with a grin.

We were shown to our room, a downstairs basement converted into a luxurious and cosy looking Bedroom, with a humungous 52” flat screen TV, our computer and bathroom. Not to mention the endless supply of snacks we could retrieve from our very own snack bar! We set down our luggage, thanked our gracious hospitable guests and got comfortable. I spent the next few minutes unpacking with the biggest grin and the widest smile... “This, dude, is going to be fun!”

 

 

Author's Note

Its not all perfect yet, its a Bio in the making, so yes, there will most probably be mistakes.