Welcome to The Jungle

My first week here in Houston has been one of those great stories of the strength and capacity of the human spirit. I half expect Hallmark to contact me any day begging for the movie rights. It might be called " Midget in Metropolis" or " The Bug that Shared My Bed". Heaven knows I could use the cash.

All joking aside, Houston is lovely. It's surprisingly landscaped for one the nation's biggest cities. There are trees and flowers everywhere, even the medians of the roads. I'm loving the warmth and the sun, and while I feel like skyscrapers and concrete buildings are more of eyesore than any desert landscape could possibly be, the city here seems to be composed of glass, and it reflects the loveliest colors at dusk.

I live in a part of town that seems safe enough and I am surrounded by a plethora of fine dining establishments boasting foods from all nationalities. ( In fact, I passed up an Ethiopian restaurant the other day. I thought they didn't eat in Ethiopia.) I've been told more then once that I needed to try something called Tex Mex. It's Americanized Mexican food in it's purest form, and according to the natives, It's to die for! I'll try it, as long as they don't put anything on it.

However, being in such an urban setting has taught me to appreciate several things that I once took for granted. For instance:

Insect life:

Maybe the arid environment of Utah is not as conducive for the insect world, for while we have our share of creepy crawlies, something about the humid air down here seems to bring out the hostility in the etymological world. My first brush with bugs happened one lovely afternoon, when I sat on a soccer field waiting for Alena as she coached her girl's soccer team. I settled myself under a tree and pulled out a book, just like I used to do at home. But it wasn't long before I noticed a dull stinging sensation on my pinky. I looked down and saw an ant. It was gnawing on me! What cheek! I flicked it off, but I noticed that it left a faint rash. Soon I was assaulted by others. At one point, I even found one trying to burrow underneath my fingernail! It was later explained to me that these were the famed fire ants, and they didn't take kindly to people treading on their territory- which is all the grass in Houston. I happen to be a big fan of lawn lounging, so this came as big blow to me. Soon I came to discover that it wasn't the same here anyway, because the grass isn't green and soft. It's prickly and yellow, and follows you every where. Maybe that'll change in the spring; I hope so. Otherwise it'll be at least a year and half before I get to lay out in the sun on the glorious grass again.

Mosquitoes are the bane of human existence no matter where you go. But in Utah, we actually have seasons, and one of the few things that makes fall acceptable is the fact that these blood-sucking brutes go away for another year. Not here. I examined my legs the other day and discovered I had become a larval blood bank. I was so annoyed, because I had big plans of walking into church on my first Sunday looking absolutely stunning. So stunning in fact that the whole ward would burst into song at the sight of me, and I would have to remind everyone that Church wasn't about me, and they needed to pay attention. Oh, and p.s., I'd be available every day after three. Instead, I spent the three hour block feeling self -conscious about my calves. Boo.

But the worst culprit of all has to be that black hearted scoundrel : the Cockroach. I don't recall ever seeing a live one back home, but I remember all my buddies telling stories that included various levels of violence they extended toward these winged vermin while they were on their missions. I'm a live-and-let-live-kind of girl. Unless an insect molests me, I'll let it scuttle on it's merry way. So when I saw the first one, I thought, I'll tell the office about it tomorrow, but I didn't worry about killing it. Well, word must've got out that I'm a Mormon-Buddhist, because where there once was one, now there was six. The breaking point finally happened when one night I lay on my modest air mattress, and I felt them scuttling into my sleeping bag. It was one of the most miserable nights of my life as I found myself startled out a semi -consciousness half a dozen times by unwelcome creeping all over my body. I am not that kind of girl! You better believe I started killing them after that. I think they must have some kind of broadcasting system, because they don't come out as often anymore. I've also had the exterminator come. I don't tolerate pestilence.

Another adjustment I've had to make is the bus system here. I was told that it wasn't the most efficient out here, but I don't have much of a choice; I don't have a job and therefore can't buy a car. When I looked up bus routes from my apartment to school, it was an hour and a half to get there, with at least one transfer. Initially, I took cabs to get to school; but the sick, sinking feeling I got when I realized I had spent $32 to get to school that day became unbearable. In desperation, I kept checking back on the metro website, to see if there was something, anything else I could so. Last Wednesday, I found a route that would drop me ten minutes away from the school. Yay! So I woke up at 5:30 in the morning and found my stop and caught my bus without any trouble. But when it reached my stop, I realized I was in a strange, dark neighborhood I didn't recognize. I thought if I just walked forward, I'd find some kind of landmark to help me find out where I needed to. It was only ten minutes away, right? Well, my fantastic sense of direction got me horridly, hopelessly lost. For four hours, I scoured the streets of Houston, looking for some kind of sign and praying like I haven't done since I was a child. But this time it wasn't a pet that was lost, it was me, and I was in HUGE trouble. I cannot emphasize enough the size of Houston. Yes, it is a large American city, but unlike most American cities, it is vast, and spread out. Take all the area from Salt Lake to Provo, and you still wouldn't have a city the size of Houston. I took all kinds of risks, hugging the concrete wall of the freeway where pedestrian access was no more, but eventually, I hit a point where it just wasn't even humanly possible to get by on foot. I stopped at a local Best Buy, and had to admit defeat. I knew I was near the school, but I told myself that I would never call for a cab again. However, I didn't have anyone I could call, and I didn't have another alternative. Just when I was ready to break my promise to myself, a police man walked by. He seemed to know I was distressed, and he was right because when he asked if he could help, I burst into a flood of helpless tears. He went in and bought an NBA x-box game and drove me to the school. On the way there, he asked me where I was from and I told him "Utah". He said he'd never been out there, but that he'd heard there wasn't much out there. I was too grateful and tired to correct him, but I thought in my mind " I know one thing that's out in Utah. A bus system" Harrumph!

My teachers were kind and reassured me that even though I had missed two classes and my first test, I was going to be okay. Had they been truly humane, they would've sedated me, because I was as jittery and unstable as a wee bunny that had barely escaped the hunt. I eventually calmed down, however, and when my friend in the admissions department heard what happened, she called me down and went over a map of the city with me, highlighting a route home.

So I took that route home, and found my way back again the next day without any problem, but when I went home the next day- I got on the exact same bus I'd gotten on that morning- for some reason, that particular bus changed the route. Luckily I knew enough of the city by this point that I could get off and find another stop to take me home. I was only merely furious when I got home, as opposed to the shock, fatigue and overwhelming frustration I felt the previous morning. I'm a work in progress.

The hardest part for me, however, has been my lack of socialization. My beloved apartment back home was set up so my best friends lived across the yard. But because everyone is so spread out here, and I don't have a car, I haven't been able to be all that social with my ward. I don't need a ton of friends; I like having a set group of people I hang out with every night, but I don't mind my privacy and having space. However, friends would've definitely come in handy when my power was shut off and I was stumbling around in my dark apartment all alone for the past few days. Having someone I could call would've been nice when I got so lost. And to be perfectly honest, I've got a lot coming at me right now and what I need more then anything is someone who I can I talk to at the end of the day when I'm feeling overwhelmed and ecstatic about what I learned in school.

I guess I just need to give it time. My oldest sister reminded me that I've been here for less then two weeks. The things that I need-a bed, a car, some action- will all come eventually. In the meantime, surviving without them is part of the adventure. And for now, I am privileged to be living in a beautiful city and go to a school where I learn things that makes my wee cup runneth over. I get to be a Texan! and as we all know, Texas is God's gift to the Union.

Past The Point of No Return

Well, I did it. I still can't believe I left my home and everyone that I love to travel across the country to go to a school where getting sprayed with guts and heaven knows what else is part of the daily agenda. Good thing it's all for a good cause. Truthfully, Houston is a fun place. It's vast and spacious, and that makes it easy to feel overwhelmed, but I decided to take a step back and catch my breath for a second and I can see why it's such a popular city. It helps that my journey here has been quite fortuitous.

Before I left, I had several arguements with my mother about what I could and could not bring. She said I wouldn't need all my stuff, that anything I'd need could be replaced out there. I didn't want to buy new things. I've spent years driving my room mates to the brink of insanity as I accumulated a vast variety of decor, kitchen appliances, clothing, books, and humorous-yet-useless novelties. I can't help it; I've always wanted to have what I-or anyone else- needed for any reason. I like the idea of being the person people come to when they need something, and being prepared for anything. My vast collection of blankets has more then once saved the day at a ward activity. I provided the ambiance at every dance, and fed countless college students with my random kitchen gizmos. Leaving all that behind was extremely annoying, but because I was flying, I could only take so much with me on the plane.

I spent three days squishing all possible articles of clothes into two suitcases and a duffle bag, and throwing toiletries and jewelry in as afterthought. In the end, I didn't pack an eighth of my wardrobe, but my largest suitcase was full to bursting, so I had to settle for that. I had gone to D.I. and bought the largest suitcase I could find, and as I wheeled it around the store, I was satisfied with it's aerodynam-ability. But only after filling it to brim did we realize that the wheels ran sciwampus, and it was amazingly hard to steer. I will never forget the warmth I felt in my heart as my Dad pushed my suitcase from behind all the way through the airport. Bless his heart. He was convinced that my suitcase weighed more then 50 lbs, and when we went up to weigh it, sure enough, I had managed to pack 64 lbs. of my life into that blasted piece of luggage. I thought for sure I was about to get socked with a huge fee, but the kind man at the scale explained to us that if I were to upgrade to first class, it would save me 60 dollars. Instead of paying $110 for my luggage, I payed $50 and flew first class from Salt Lake City to Pheonix. I couldn't believe my luck. My seat was the first one of the plane, right up next the captain's cabin. I had the whole row to myself, so as the steward passed around drinks and snacks, I was the first to be served. As I sat there sipping my sparkling apple juice with my pinky extended, and wishing I had had the presence of mind to wear a smoking jacket and bubble pipe, I grew excited at the prospect of leaving my home for truly the first time. I felt like it was a good omen.

Living the high life on First Class...

After landing in Pheonix, I found my gate quickly and discovered that it was to be a very full flight. The harrassed- looking agent announced that due to amount of passengers on the plane, carry-ons would be limited, and the rest be placed in the back with the baggage. I volunteered my fat duffle. She gratefully thanked me, but in my mind, I felt like I had gotten the better end of the deal. No lugging that thing on the plane.

My flight to Houston wasn't nearly as comfortable, but I didn't care; We flew right into the sunset and it was breathtaking. The clouds were all piled up beside us and it seemed like we sailing on a sea of marshmellow paste. As we descended into the city, I could see that it went on forever and the lights made it fascinating to look at. It occured to me that this place must be beautiful at Christmas time, with all the extra twinkling lights.

My ex-room mate Alena found me without a hitch, and after struggling for a bit my overlarge suitcase, a kind hispanic man came to our rescue. After he left us, Alena remarked that I was already getting attention from the locals, but I personally think he just didn't see the ring on her left hand. She took me back to her apartment and promptly fed me a full on Thanksgiving feast. No joke. As we all know, Canada celebrates their own Thanksgiving a month earlier. Apparently, a Canadian Elder who is serving her area was really disappointed that he was going to miss an elaborate Thanksgiving that was to be prepared before he was suddenly transferred. Being a Canadian herself, Alena felt sympathetic to this Elder's plight and prepared a complete Thanksgiving meal. There were still leftovers in the fridge when I arrived and I dined on turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, and pies.

For those of you who resent me for my sheer dumb luck, understand that it ended there: It took me a few days before I was able to finally sign the lease to my apartment, and despite the fact that I gave my apartment management a few days notice, I came into my new home only to discover that the fridge wasn't hooked up, and the carpets in the process of being cleaned, (which meant that I couldn't move in), and I needed to order electricity and the internet. It isn't furnished, but luckily for me, Alena had the foresight to equip me with a couple of air mattresses. Since then I have learned that they have run out of keys for the fitness room (the only place on the property with Wifi internet), and they've lost my mail key.

But hey, all is well. This is what I asked for, and if I don't allow my self to think too much, I'll be ready to take this town by storm!...If a hurricane doesn't do it first.