Travelling Adventures, Vol. II

I started out by leaving for Pendleton a little before 3:00AM to catch a Greyhound bus. My roommate so kindly delivered me to the station, which was really four chairs outside a convenience store/restaurant which was offering "Hillbilly Nachos." I got there around 3:30AM after a little difficulty finding the place (Mapquest failed us), then waited for the 4AM bus.

About 15 minutes later, some guy wearing leather, cowboy hat and driving a pimp car showed up. I was a litter nervous as he smoked and tried to strike up a conversation. He was waiting to pick up a friend.

The sun rose. The bus was late. It was freezing outside. No, wait: it was freezing outside.

The guy left momentarily with a woman who showed up in an identical car. When he returned around 4:30-4:45, the bus still hadn't shown.

By the time I actually got on the bus it was too bright to sleep, but I tried to make a go of it anyways, existing in a semi-conscious state until 2PM.

We got to Salt Lake City around 6PM. Because of city regulations, all luggage must come off the bus, so Greyhound usually takes this opportunity to service the bus. I thought this two-hour layover was an opportunity to explore the city.

I had two hours. During all previous visits to Salt Lake bus terminal it was either night or I had too much luggage. This time, I had a backpack, a sleeping bag, and a bag of cereal. I love travelling light. It's so much less hassle, I don't have to worry about luggage under the bus/plane getting lost/stolen; it just gives me more freedom and comfort.

I was a little afraid my sleeping bag made me look like a homeless person, especially as I neared the local "St. Vincent de Paul"--"oh, so that's why there's all these dirty unshaven smokers sitting on the sidewalk"--so I took off my jacket (it was too hot anyways) and wrapped up the bag and cereal to hide it, so I was now pregnant, except obviously carrying something.

As I walked down the sidewalk, a man and a younger man/teen walked ahead of me. The man looked into a garbage can, pulled out a half-eaten hamburger, and started eating it, while the young one said "that's disgusting!" (I had to concur.) He defended himself by saying he was so hungry. I tried to keep some distance thereafter.

My impression of Salt Lake is that it's a city where all the buildings look 10 years old. Which in this case is probably true, with the Olympics held here six years ago and all. It's as if the Olympics walked in, built all these fancy new buildings, and left, with the locals unsure of what to do with these buildings that were too nice for them.

I saw the Salt Palace, the convention centre (which seemed excessively fancy for a convention centre), some tall buildings, the home arena of the Jazz (was it the Xcel energy arena?), and Union station. Apparently, the last spike was driven somewhere nearby, so that was a big thing.

On my walk back to the station, I passed a Chinese restaurant. I wasn't feeling Chinese, but I was hungry, so I walked in. It advertised an award of "Best Chinese restaurant in Salt Lake 2007." It charged like it, too. After seeing figures like $15, $20 on their wall menu, I left and settled on a dinner of cereal.

Back on the bus again, I spent the next few hours (until 2PM) trying to sleep. Two travellers (a lady and a black man) struck up a conversation and tried to meet everyone on the bus. When I finally gave up on sleep, the lady (sitting in the seat in front of me) said "I was about to shake you to see if you were alright." They were very friendly. (Unusual for a Greyhound.)

A man got on the bus the next stop and loudly asked "Does anyone have a cellphone I can borrow? I need to call my wife." The girl one seat in front of him obliged, and he proceeded to talk for 15-20 minutes. But that wasn't the shocking part--the conversation he was in reverted back and forth, as if it was manic-depressive, between "I love you so much" and heavy, angry cursing. The switch happened at least seven to twelve times. After the first cursing episode, we all looked at the girl stifling a little laugh as she looked bewildered and shrugged her shoulders.

I finally arrived at Lincoln, a half-hour late, and there waited for another 20 minutes as Andy, Ashley, and Liz learned that buses don't go to Amtrak stations. (I love you guys!)

While I waited, I watched two rabbits walk right up to me. I wondered if their familiarity had anything to do with my odour. (36 hours on a bus will do that to you.)

Sarah's wedding was great. It was wonderful seeing friends unseen in two years. (The mints were great too.) I must admit that I enjoyed surprising Sarah :-) Sandy was a great hostess.

All too soon, it was time to return to Walla Walla. I desperately sent out mass emails hoping I could get someone to pick me up from Pendleton (my roommate had left by then), but I had no responses by the time I left.

The bus was about an hour late. (No surprise there.) I began reading Frank Herbert's Dune. I really enjoyed the book. It had interesting ideas on the power of observation.

One or two stops down the road, a man with two sons got on the bus. With no empty seats remaining, he sat down beside me, with his two children in the two seats ahead. They appeared to be between 5 and 10 years old. By now it was midnight, so I tried to sleep, though it was to no avail. He took out a cellphone and proceeded to call what I presume was his wife. Over the next half-hour to an hour, I overheard bits and pieces of the following conversation.
"I wish I was in bed with you right now."
"I'm so horny right now."
"I can't control when I get horny."
"I just want to @$#% you."
His children, mind you, are one seat in front, and possibly in hearing range of this whole conversation. He was talking in a low, gravelly voice. He was also a little large, and had one leg up against me for lack of room. I was a little disturbed.

I got to Denver around 6 in the morning, then prepared myself for a six-hour layover. (Ridiculous, eh?) Just as in Salt Lake, I thought this was a wonderful opportunity to explore a town I had never been in (bus terminal aside) before.

My first impression was that I was surprised by the audacity of the pedestrians. Until 9AM in the morning, I didn't see a single pedestrian other than myself that obeyed traffic signals. (Sadly, that isn't an exaggeration.) Numerous times I saw cars try to make left turns on an advance green, only to be held up by pedestrians crossing when they weren't supposed to. A few times I saw people walk against the flow of traffic, stopping in between lanes to allow cars to pass on either side.

After wandering random downtown streets for an hour or so, I decided it was time for breakfast. I found an interesting little restaurant named "The Delectable Egg." It specialized in serving eggs for breakfast and lunch. (Who'd have guessed that?) I splurged. (Okay, no one would have guessed that.) For ten dollars, I had a hard boiled egg, a scrambled egg, four pieces of toast, cheesy hash browns, and a ginger ale that was freely refilled without my asking. I was rather stuffed after that breakfast!

Outside on the street, I found... a print edition of the Onion! And it was free! How awesome is that? The headline that day was about how a recently surfaced videotape of Dick Cheney offered clues about his whereabouts. The tape had "known extremist" Cheney talking about "never surrendering," and warning Americans against "making the wrong choice in November."

I then found my way to some central park place beside an art district. I found a homeless man sleeping under one of the arches. As his sleeping bag was pulled over his head as if he wanted to make the sun go back down, I decided it was too early for him.

I was surprised at how artsy Denver was. Statues and art work were copiously scattered all over the city. I posed by a gigantic broom and dustpan (see MySpace).

Around 8AM, I saw some beautiful flowers, and just had to get down and take a picture. So I knelt down on the sidewalk and opened my backpack and the first thing I saw was my Bible. It occurred to me that I hadn't had devotions yet, and...

I started reading the Bible. On the sidewalk, knelt down. I figured I was in a strange city, might as well do something odd. Around 20 people passed while I was reading. Not one of them slowed down, except to walk around me. The last one was a lady on a cellphone. As she passed, I overheard her say, "I don't even have the time for things I'm usually involved with, like church..." What a world we live in, where a person praying on the sidewalk doesn't merit a second glance!

I found my way to a mall, where I was greatly disappointed that the "Cheesecake Factory" was not yet open, and would open too late for me to also make my bus. I found an ESPN Zone in the same mall, also closed, and a man in a wheelchair reading the history of the Denver Broncos painted on the wall outside as if he was visiting some religious shrine. (On a sidenote, there was a water fountain beside the wall that had some of the best tasting water I've ever drunk!)

Denver was filled with construction. There were cranes and skyscrapers going up all over the place.

I saw the U.S. Mint. The Mint's tours were already fully booked that day, as early in the morning as I went. Plus, well, I'd already visited the Canadian Mint, and didn't expect the U.S. Mint to be much different. I did notice a fence around the perimeter and police stationed all around to ensure that no one climbed on the fence. And the front door looked so heavily barricaded that it couldn't be opened. (In which case, why is it there?)

The U.S. Federal Courthouse looked like the Lincoln Memorial. (No joke.) It's marble pillars were a stark contrast to the modernistic Oshawa courthouse going up right now.

I loved how there was a building and street downtown named after some guy who lost his job in the military for trying to negotiate peace with the Native Americans during the American-Indian wars of the 1860s. And how he was still honoured despite failing in the accomplishment he was honoured for.

Overall, I thought Denver was an odd conglomeration of old and new. 100 year old factories and warehouses have been meticulously preserved and turned into flats. One old warehouse is now a parking lot, with a newer building built into, over, and around it. I liked it. A lot.

I got back to the terminal an hour early, as I was now aching from walking for four hours, and was dismayed to discover a gigantic line for the westbound bus. It felt like my lucky day, when I got to the front of the line, and the driver told the guy in front of me "last one." I actually was lucky, because they then announced there would be another bus to double the route, thus giving me first choice of the seats.

Upon arriving in Salt Lake, another two-hour layover, my bus (the second one) was delayed an extra hour. I used the time to check my email and send another desperate email out, this time to people I knew in Walla Walla.

A young mother got on the bus at Salt Lake with what I presume were a pair of twins. When one would stop crying, the other would start, and vice versa. I don't think she got any sleep, or anyone near us--she sat down beside me. I was conscious of my reading light, as it was past midnight, but I wanted to finish the chapter first, even if it might have kept the babies up. A finished soon enough, but an hour after that, the babies were still crying. She was resting one of their heads on my leg due to lack of space (and probably darkness as well--I don't know if she realized it). When both of them started crying yet again, I asked "Would you like some help?" offering to hold one. She said no. Thus Adam learned that mothers are extremely protective of their children, and won't give them up to a complete stranger.

We were delayed another hour in Boise. I thus got to Pendleton two hours late, hoping no one had come to pick me up and ended up waiting for an excessive amount of time. Once inside the station/store, the cashier said a note was left for me. My wonderful boss was offering a ride, once I actually arrived.

While waiting, I finished Dune. Then I got a ride in an air conditioned vehicle all the way home. Thus ends my travels. :-)

A Libyan Adventure

This might be one of the longest dreams I've ever had.

I've agreed to go as a Student Missionary to Libya. (Which, in retrospect, sounds suicidal.) I get there, and go to my post, which happens to be an Israeli embassy. My job there is to simply be an office worker. (If you're wondering why a: Israel has an embassy in Libya, or b: why working at an embassy counts as SMing, then you're not alone. Dreams are odd that way.)

So I'm at this embassy, which resembles a small house or office. Think the size of a convenience store at a strip mall. There's a window that looks to the front, and the door is to the side of the window, at a right angle to the window. After the front office, there's a passageway into the back of the building, where more secure documents, a kitchen, and a closet is kept.

All day long, Jewish people come in, looking to immigrate to the homeland. The reasons given are generally to escape persecution. When they come in, they're given shelter while the ambassador runs a check on them to see if they're really Jewish or not. Usually there's a line of three or four people waiting to be checked. They sit in the front of the office, in chairs that remind me of waiting for a dentist or a doctor.

Every now and then, odd incidents happen outside. As I look outside, I see a bunch of people stoning a woman. I'm not sure what it was she did. Most of the stones are missing her, as she is running, but she's definitely getting hit by some of them, and these aren't pebbles she's getting hit by: they're about softball sized.

She eventually makes her way to the office, under a hailstorm of rocks, where we grant her amnesty. We discover she's a Jew and get her the attention she needs. The crowd has left her alone a little ways before she makes it to the office, so the office isn't under any threat.

Later, a protest crowd builds in front of the office/embassy. A group of Christians, presumably flown from America or otherwise American ex-pats, are protesting Israel's actions in Palestine. They're dressed similar to members of the Ku Klux Klan, except some of them aren't wearing hoods. Being in Libya and all, they apparently have little fear of being found out. A few of them try to break into the office. After a couple grabs the door, I wrench it back and lock it, as the protesters are approaching riot level. Thankfully, the glass in the door and window is apparently unbreakable. We dim the lights in the front and evacuate into the back, where the ambassador calls for police to break up the crowd.

Except I don't make it into the back, because one of my glasses lens pops out. I get on my hands and knees and try to find the screw, which is found easily. As I try to put the screw in, the other lens pops out, and I have to find that screw as well.

Eventually, we decide we need to leave for a week or two, so we get to the airport, where it's discovered there's a special terminal for ambassadors. We apparently don't need to file through a separate line, because ambassadors carry a special luggage that identifies them, and fly in special jets. We get to the waiting room, which is filled with 1/3 ambassadors, 2/3 students like myself, most of whom are using the special luggage. We're all waiting to get on a flight to... London? (I think. My memory is fading.)

I end up hanging out with some Canadian students. We're talking, when my glasses lens pops out again. I try to fix it, and manage to do so, but as I raise them back to my face, the other lens pops out. The other students help me. All this popping out has begun to damage the lenses, which are now beginning to resemble a frosted window.

Then, I wake up.

Rainbow Conversations

There's a rainbow outside right now. Why do rainbows make us happy? Because it's a promise from God? For what?

I had this conversation with a friend.

"What's the promise about rainbows?"

"That God will never flood the Earth again."

"Well that's not very personal."

"Maybe it means that, despite all the storms that hit us in our lives, we will never be destroyed by them. The storm will always have an end."

"What?"

"Well, we're like the Earth, and the flood destroyed the Earth. And so just as the rainbow promises that God will never destroy the Earth by a flood again, so we can know that, though in our lives we have personal storms all the time, they will never destroy us."