Clap! I slammed my door shut, checked the mirrors, and rested my hands on the steering wheel. I have entered my own little space ship, and I am ready for take off. Okay, I guess this is it. I lifted my hand and threw my parents a sloppy wave goodbye with a tired smile. Deep breath. I switched into drive and lightly lifted my foot off of the gas. I progressed down my runway- slowly though! Or else my parents will get nervous that I driving too fast.
There better not be traffic or… Oh of course there is. My car slowed up behind a tall black Jeep, patiently waiting in line for the Henry Hudson Parkway. The jeep towered over my little meek Honda Civic, casting a dark, intimidating shadow on me like an evil villain getting ready to pounce on its prey. Let’s move!
Yes, thank God that did not take too long! My spaceship began to pick up speed. 35…43… wait. An aged green Toyota was slowing up in front of me. Oh come on! I grasped my steering wheel, steadied it while checked the left lane. Hmmm, I could probably get over. Wait, let this Mercedes pass. Okay now!
Toll. Follow the sign for the GW. Why is it that I could have probably made this trip blindfolded, yet I always look for the signs to the bridge? I steered a slight left and guided my car up the windy, spiral staircase that led to the entrance of the George Washington Bridge. As I turned the corner, I could feel my tiny, little car—my spaceship rather—quake with anxiety. Tracker-trailers zoomed by, bullying the rest of us little sedans. The silver iron suspension ropes guided my long stretch along the bridge; it felt like the towering regal structure was watching over me.
“New Jersey Welcomes You!” This is the road that I will remain on for the next three hours until I reach Loyola.
This is my stream of consciousness as I left my house and drove to Loyola for the start of my senior year. There were jitters; there was excitement and anticipation; and there was even a little sadness leaving my home and parents. Yes, this past summer was one of the best I have ever had, but it was time to go back to school. Throughout this passage, you should sense a lot of movement in physical travel, as well as emotional. Even in the simple task of driving there are risks and there is a lot of responsibility. Whenever I embark on these long journeys to the depths of the Chesapeake Watershed (as they call it on those billboards along i95) I grow extremely anxious that by the time of my actual arrival I feel as if I had ran the entire trip. Think of how many accidents you pass on the street everyday, and think of all of the accidents you see on the news. What if something happens? It is moments like these where you need to pull yourself back, regain control of yourself, and just go with it. Yes, Christina, something bad could happen, but guess what—nothing has yet, so keep going. Travel isn’t always beautiful (as I illustrated in my last post), but you need a positive mindset in order to get yourself through.
In Hau’ofa’s Tales of the Tikongs each character that is described is different from the other. They have weaknesses and issues, yet they somehow recover or work with them, forming the Tikong culture. The structure of the narrative allows for each piece of the community to be thoroughly analyzed, similar to the structure of Invisible Cities, but there is a string of unity that can be ran across each individual. They are all searching for a moral compass or a way to cope, and most of them do manage. They go through their lives, just as you and I are, and they find something within themselves that brings them to a solution of how to get by. This connection may seem a bit cliché, but it’s a universal truth. How do you get yourself over the mountains and hills, the thunderstorms and hurricanes, the sickness and injury?