Rewinding a bit...
Yes, I'm reviving my blog. I'm pleasantly surprised that so many of you enjoyed last year's adventures, and I hope this year's galavanting might provide equally stimulating reading.
I'm sitting in the Zurich airport, quite exhausted, but relieved that the nausea that pursued me much of the day yesterday seems to have given up the fight. After a wonderful road trip, during which I enjoyed several remarkable blessings - including a car that travelled over 3,000 miles without a single hiccup, an aunt that accompanied me and provided stimulating conversation and lots of laughs, a mom who met me in Texas and acted as a comfortable but fun driving companion, and wonderful visits with friends - I arrived in Salt Lake for two days of hotel relaxation and rest. Who am I kidding? It rest is a bit of an overstatement. It was a comfortable bed and quiet room that allowed me to get almost enough sleep to make up for the last two weeks of red eyes and long drives - but not nearly enough to even begin to recover from the last few months of studying. Ah well. I got to see a couple of friends I hadn't seen over the Christmas break, managed to read through half (yes, half) of one article in preparation for my oral exam yesterday, and saw my dear friend Adrien in Les Miserables Wednesday night. She was brilliant.
From the theater in Orem, we raced to the airport, where my parents dropped me off for my red-eye flight to Boston. After a brief layover in Charlotte, I boarded the two-hour flight to Boston. The descent was a bit bumpy, and my stomach began to churn. I pulled out that infamous little white paper bag from the seat pocket, but finally my mouth stopped its profuse salivating (the final warning that any contents of the stomach are on their way up), and my stomach settled enough to replace the bag unused. I realized I needed to eat, so I stopped at an Au Bon Pain right out of the gate, but the only thing that sounded good was a bagel. However, when the lady unapologetically informed me that there was no cream cheese, I decided against the bagel (it's just not worth it without the creamy goodness!) and just purchased a big class of fresh OJ. That was a mistake.
I had realized on the plane that, although I had packed quite well, I think, for Jordan, I had not brought even a reasonable coat for Boston - and it was 18 degrees outside at 10:00 am. So, I pulled out my little summer jacket and pulled it over my cardigan, and ventured out to find a taxi. Luckily, the wind was gentle, and I didn't feel too cold.
But quickly I began to feel nauseous again. I realized I had nothing in which to vomit should the need arise, and Boston's turnpike (I90) is remarkably lacking in shoulders to pull over. I decided I would have to hold it down. That didn't work, of course. For the second time in my life (the first time being on a bus the first night of my mission in Chile), I found myself vomiting into my mouth, and pressing my hand to my lips to prevent it from spilling out. It was nothing but orange juice. What could I do? I couldn't even notify the driver to pull over (we had just exited the freeway, and we now had space to pull over). So, with all the determination I could muster, I took three big swallows and gulped it back down. I could think of nothing else to do. Please don't judge me.
I croaked out directions for the driver to drop me off at my building, and gratefully exited the taxi, only to struggle with two awkward bags into the building, up the elevator, and into my Schusterman Center home, where I dropped off the bags, got a quiet room, and reviewed a few things prior to the oral exam. I managed to change and freshen up a bit, grab a muffin, fruit, and some coke, and then it was time. (I sipped the coke all through the oral exam.)
The exam was not unpleasant, and I was surprisingly calm. They asked me various questions about the written exam, clarified some things, and pushed me further in my answers. Then they excused me, deliberated about five minutes, and came out to tell me congratulations. I had passed. Professor Troen added, "with distinction." I must say I was truly surprised at that! They all assured me it had been a pleasure to read my responses, and shook my hand warmly. And that was that!
I changed again into traveling clothes, and got ready to get back into a taxi back to the airport. But my friend Liora (postdoc at Schusterman Center) came out of her office just in time for me to tell her. She bought me a celebratory bagel (with two cream cheese packets) and hot chocolate. The lady at the counter insisted on buying the hot chocolate for me when she heard about my exam. That was a small, fun blessing.
And then the taxi. The sickness returned, and although I chugged the coke in an attempt to preempt the loss of what little I had eaten, up it came. This time, I was prepared with a half-empty cocoa cup. Yep, I spewed right into it. My aim was not so good as I had hoped, and I had to use the newspaper in the seat pocket to wipe up some of the stray droplets. Ugh. I'm sorry, but this is the way it went down (or came up, one might say).
At the airport, I was told my flight had been cancelled, and I would have to stand in an enormous line to be rebooked. After some extensive inquiry, I found out that Lufthansa's pilots are on strike until the 21st, so all flights had been cancelled for the next couple of days. They had given me a number to call to try to rebook, and after 13 attempts (I counted), I got through. They rebooked me for a flight on Swiss Airways at 10:45 that night.
So, there I sat in the airport, a few paces away from the restroom (stomach was still churning quite a bit), and began to consider my options. I was so exhausted (which may be the actual reason for the sick stomach), but also aware of how blessed I am. I had passed with distinction. I should be with friends celebrating, not sitting waiting to dash to the airport restroom for 7 hours.
My friend Irena, to whom I am already deeply indebted for her kindness in letting both me and my Aunt Sharon to stay at her house for a few days before our road trip, picked up the phone and came and got me immediately. She made up her couch for me so that I could rest for a few hours, and I felt quite a bit better. Not fully recovered, but a bit more alive.
The final challenge came at the airport. My flight was supposedly a United Airlines fight out of Boston, so at the E terminal, a less-than-helpful employee directed me to take the airport shuttle to terminal B (more nausea). At terminal B, I found that United was closed for the night. No attendant was in sight, either at the check-in desk, or at information. (This is when certain unsavory words began to form in my mind.) A much-more-helpful baggage claim attendant directed me back to terminal E, explaining that, although it said United Airlines on my reservation, it was really Swiss Airlines. Thank you!
Back on the shuttle (more nausea), with the same driver as before (he chuckled and empathized with my plight). I made it through the line and security with little problem, purchased some Dramamine, and waited to board. I slept most of the trip (I was quite unaware of both dinner and breakfast, but awoke in time to request them to bring it to me late each time - thank goodness!), and the food stayed down. I still feel a bit queasy, but here I am, sitting in the Zurich airport reminiscing about my heaven-blessed, hellish day. I think I will take some excedrin for this headache that persists behind my eyes.
Next stop, Jordan.
These pictures are all out of order (totally annoyed that they uploaded this way!), but I'm too tired to fix it now. See if you can figure out where I am in my journey from these unordered photos!
Beginning our trip in snowy Massachusetts, we made it out to Concord and visited Authors' Ridge (still knee-deep in snow - it was a major challenge just to get up the hill!), Old North Bridge and Orchard House (from the outside only - we arrived too late for the tour). We also caught a few moments at the Boston Temple on the way back in for dinner.
Finding ourselves caught in a major snowstorm, we weathered the night in New Rochelle, New York (expensive hotel, but there was complimentary popcorn!), and then made our way as quickly as possible to Maryland, where I saw my dear friend Christy and her beautiful little girl Georgia (but for some reason, pictures didn't occur to me!). We stopped off for a quick visit to Annapolis before heading down to Virginia. Note how the snow remained a major factor until southern Virginia.
After a good sleep at my friend Millie's house, we wandered over to Norfolk, VA, where we basked in the (relatively) warm sunlight, frolicked with the mermaids (which is apparently some kind of artistic feature of Norfolk), and toured the WWII warship USS Wisconsin. Later we drove down to Kitty Hawk, NC, where we enjoyed a sumptuous B&B and enjoyed the last few rays of sun as it set over the shores of the Outer Banks.
After church the next morning, we bravely dipped our feet into the Atlantic (it was indeed very chilly water) and then made our way to the Wright Brothers' monument and museum. Very fun.
We found our B&B in Charleston to be very charming indeed, and the owner was friendly and proud of his home. I relished the warmth, the daffodils, and the fun antiques found in every corner.
In downtown Charleston, we visited the Old Exchange and Provost Dungeon, and took in some more sun while we ate some delicious pastries. (You'll also notice from here on out that I become fascinated with the Live Oak trees in the southern states - especially with their dangling Spanish Moss.)
Now, the sad truth is that our trip through (notice, through, not to) Savannah was nearly a blur. We did, however, manage to find a little sandwich shop that is the best I've ever had. I also experienced my first Yoohoo drink. One of the secrets to these sandwiches was the secret sauce. Oh, yes, incredible. So much so that Aunt Sharon chose to keep dripping it on herself to have it with her all day.
After Savannah, we drove 9 hours to New Orleans, arriving at 3 am. After a few hours of sleep, we ventured out to the landmark restaurant that the Internet informed me was a must. We enjoyed the Beignets for breakfast - but imagine our surprise when our bus tour (which had promised a brief stop over for some local cuisine) took us back to the same place! So, we had the Beignets again and tried the Jambalaya and Gumbo. After breakfast, before our jaunt in the French Quarter, we wandered through the city park, which had previously been the Allen Plantation. It was lovely.
I loved the houses in historic New Orleans! The bus tour spent a fair amount of time showing us much of the remaining effects of Hurricane Katrina. You'll see some of the homes that have not been repaired (many of them were entirely inundated with water when the levies broke); notice also where one resident has essentially converted the home to a museum of Katrina - the spray painted words indicating not only the water mark (the words are at the water line), but also how many dead bodies were found here (none at this house). The resident also has collected various objects that he found floating in the water as a memorial.
It was a very rainy day!
From New Orleans, we made another long drive to Galveston, TX. Other than a rather cold ocean, not much to see.
But I had a blast visiting my cousin, Charity, and her family in San Antonio. Her daughter, Lucy, got a hold of my phone and favored us with some fun photos. My mom met up with us in San Antonio and drove the rest of the way with me.
Also in San Antonio I got to visit briefly with my good friend, Amanda Kunz and her beautiful family. We, of course, visited the Alamo.
(Can anyone identify this bush/tree? It's not a Lilac, although it looks quite like it.)
Our final stop in Texas was to visit my dear friend Peter. I was also happy to see an old friend, Becky Roesler, who happens to be in Denton as well. We had some good, ol' Texas BBQ!
My mom insisted that I visit the doctor about my worsening cough, so Peter accompanied us to the local instacare. I couldn't help but notice and appreciate this sign.
And then . . . New Mexico! We stopped off at a little roadside diner that was apparently the local favorite (it was pretty good, if you're ever in Santa Fe), and then headed to a little town called Abiquiu. My mom wanted to check it out to possibly use in her next book. It was a charming little historic town, originally a Spanish mission (the locals call it a Pueblo).
We arrived in Farmington, NM, later that evening, and captured this incredible view of what we later realized is called Shiprock. (You'll see a closer view a couple pics later.) The landscape in NW is, of course, vastly different from the Southeast, but it was lovely.
Finally, after a quick stop in St. George (didn't take any pics there - I've visited multiple times already), we visited my cousin Kimberly near Richfield, UT. Her adorable kids were so fun! Look at that chocolate face!
And then, after a brief respite in Salt Lake, and a whirlwind and woozy day in Boston (as mentioned), I managed to make the plane to Jordan! Next adventure to begin . . . now!
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