Curious Notions

My room seemed grayer and brighter than normal when I opened my eyes Tuesday morning. I rubbed the sleep out, my vision un-blurring some. It took a moment for me to realize that I’d need my contacts to improve the scene any further.

I go into the bathroom after breakfast for some water to go with my allergy medication. Dirty brown water fills the urinal. It starts coming out the faucet a few minutes later. It’s just past nine, and my suitemate informs me that a flier on the front door of the building announces the water is being cut at ten. Thanks for the notification.

The Rapid is leaving the station the moment I reach the top of the stairs. Five minutes later, as I sit on a bench, an old man joins me. He’s excited to hear about what I study and where I’ve been. We speak in a mixture of English and German—his Lithuanian mother was a German teacher. Du bist schön wie eine Blume, he says several times. He pronounces schön like the name Shane. We talk until Brookpark, both of us smiling as we part ways. He waves from the platform.

My gate is filled with people of all ages with purple lanyards around their necks. The tags on them proclaim that they are part of a temple group going to Israel. The children are loud. The one across from me likes to announce what she’s doing: I need something to chew. Later: I’m putting on my light jacket now. She has a pink iPod mini. I flip on my Zen Micro and reach for my Discover. A middle-aged Italian couple’s conversation catches my attention, and I smile.

Instant annoyance with the cover story: a letter preceding it refers to Lawrence Krauss and his complaints about string theory. A passenger next to me is startled by my sudden, wordless outburst. Is there anything that man doesn’t complain about? I wonder briefly if he’s capable of supporting anything, or is he one of those people who survives on attention garnered from being anti-whatever?

As the plane starts its descent into Newark, I pause in my reading. My seat is in the exit aisle, directly over the wing. We zip near a cloud and I grin: for a few seconds the vortex filament flying off the wingtip is visible. It twists like a tiny horizontal tornado.

Further down, I crane my neck to see the crowded skyline across the water: my first glimpse of New York City. I note to myself that I’ve seen more large cities outside the U.S. than I have in my home country. The irony of this is not lost on me.

The highway next to the runway has a familiar blue and yellow store: Ikea.

Two minutes in Newark and I’m already appreciating the international atmosphere: a harried mother rushes past me, calling to her child in German.

The Baci in the duty-free store are tempting, but the Bounty mini-bars on the shelf are more exciting. I buy neither.

Across from my gate is a store/restaurant with the familiar Samual Adams logo over the doors. I’m reminded of Mark. I’d buy something for him, but they might not let me in the door, given my age.

A little girl who shares my name is sitting opposite me on my second flight. She is six and seems very excited by flying. Which is faster a plane or a car? she asks. Several times she proclaims We’re in the air while we taxi. I smile and tell her We have to go really fast before we get into the air.

Squeals from the opposite side of the aisle alert me to another important sight. The Statue of Liberty floats beneath us, a slender green figure. It looks like a delicate model, just the way I remember the Leaning Tower of Pisa looking as we took off four years ago. From space, the whole planet looks like a delicate children’s model.

With my laptop out, I can be mistaken for a writer. I’ve already been mistaken for an artist (age thirteen) or an adult Jewish tourist (today). No one seems to think I’m a college student. Maybe I should tell people I’m a researcher. The reactions might be entertaining.

Can you tell us one item that would be in your luggage that would identify it as yours? the lady in baggage claim asks me. There’s a book inside named The Vanishing Moon, I answer. She smiles and tells me that she loves it when people can answer with something specific like that.