OC No More

As I ascended the escalator, I turned around and waved goodbye to my family and blew them a kiss. It was really happening. I was leaving behind everything and everyone I knew.

I arrived at La Guardia Airport around noon and had no problems locating my luggage. My first encounter with an angry New Yorker was the taxi driver. He was saying f this and f that in an accent very much like that of Apu's of The Simpsons. I didn't care what he was saying as long as he took me straight to the house. When we got closer to the destination, I became dismayed by the appearance of the neighborhood. There was graffiti on every street corner, dilapidated storefronts and several brick buildings that looked housing projects. I wasn't in Orange County anymore.





My roommate enthusiastically greeted me at the door and helped me with my belongings. The building that I was staying in is a 3 floor family apartment-house in which the owner lives on one floor and another tenant lives on the top floor. We had to enter three doors to reach our apartment. (Apparently I misinterpreted their definition of a house (NY house separated into apartments) from my understanding of a house (CA single family unit house).) My room is located right next to the kitchen and for some reason had a musky smell to it. Not pleasant at all. My closet was even more depressing, which could probably only store 1/4 of my clothes. For the time being, I laid my bed sheet on the floor and will just have to wait to buy a bed.





I took a stroll through the neighborhood for about 6 blocks to go grocery shopping. I felt uneasy with the graffiti, the people watching me as I pass by them, and the drivers and pedestrians yelling at each other. The environment was completely opposite of what I've been accustomed to and privileged with my entire life--there was an absence of well-manicured lawns, posh houses, shiny cars and white people. I have driven through bad neighborhoods where my grandpa lives in San Pablo, CA (near Oakland), but I've never had to experience the life as a local. I admit that my fears are based on my prejudices and from what I've seen on television, but being immersed in this situation forced me to re-evaluate my views.

With these new surroundings, I wish I could share these experiences with my family and friends. It has been less than 24 hours and I'm missing them like crazy, too sad to go explore the city. I've reverted into a 5 year old, with tears flowing down sporadically, wishing that my mom could hold me. It wouldn't be easy for me if I didn't have the support and words of encouragement from my parents, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends and coworkers. I guess this is what you call homesick.