Rosary Beads

haha..you must have forgot. I do this blog thing.

Jet-lag is finally wearing off. I have finished unpacking. Gifts are being mailed to the appropriate relatives and friends. In short, I am home. Happy, satisfied, and actually rather displaced. You see, London, was fabulous for me. It was not even the sight seeing, meeting new people, the food, etc. I needed to leave NH to remember how big the world is. Too often we get caught up thinking that one city has it all. I have met people who have never left the borough of Brooklyn. When I inquired why, they simply replied, "For what reason? Everything I want is right here." Small mind small world. But allow me to step off my soap box. I went to LONDON. The city with the double decker buses, people with funny accents, and more West Indians than you can throw a bowl of saltfish at. It was 8 days to remember.

Day 1:
Well, after a 6 hour trans-atlantic flight into Heathrow, which included but was not limited too: a screaming infant, a very rude flight attendent with a cockney accent, and an entire pack of flavor blasted goldfish, I touched down. Gbolawoyi and his dear uncle gave me a tour of the city, to which I ooohed and awwed, fighting the drowsiness as best I could. We got to the flat, I said hello to Mr. Ajayi Sr., and attached myself to a bed. I' m sure you can imagine the rest.









Day 2:
These stupid little plugs to my left. Today, was in essence, learning how to walk on the other side of the road. I'm all for different things, I love new environments, but wow was I out of my element. We went to train station, and Gbola gave me an Oyster card, and explained, (in great detail to his credit) how one navigates the Underground and the bus system in Metro London. I see your lips moving but I ain't heard much (c) Lil' Wayne... Everything was moving so fast, I was looking on the wrong side of the road, and almost got hit by many a Benzo. Fortunately, they recognize a foreigner when they see one. You know the look, the confused stare, oversized backpack, glazed eyes darting back and forth, constant fiddling with a map, awkward pacing like they want to ask you a question but don't, really forcing the issue of appearing comfortable... I was that guy.

Day 3:

We really hit the ground running today. My, oh my. A brief side note before I continue:

I figured out why adjusting is so difficult.You see, someone can come to America, not knowing a soul, and quite possibly walk into a big city, and find a bistro, or outdoor shop, where there native language is quite possibly spoken. The same can be said for other great cities around the world. But somewhere, ingrained inside of my cultural identity, is this idea, that, wherever I go, there will be something to remind me of home. It could candy, an advertisement, a gum wrapper, but I discovered this weird longing to be reminded that I was not far from home. FALSE. Even the Skittles tasted different.

more to come soonish...


-Mr. Jackson