Coming into America; First Experience in the Land of The Free and the Home of the Brave - July 2006

The American dream evaporated in the unrelenting Philadelphia heat that July. My excitement to see the United States for the first time stewed and dried up. Open windows provided little relief from the hot air that stood stiff like a brick. It declined to dance or sway. Drenched in sweat I watched as cold beads of water - like tears slid down the side of the ice filled pitcher. If only I could shrink and swim in it.

 The fan cartwheeled a hundred times over but it would not blow the heat away. “Is this America?”  “Is this it?”  The mental image of a cool breeze blowing through streets lined with luscious trees, manicured green grass and deep blue skies melted into the distance.  The air was heavy and damp, breathing was now a conscious effort. Compared to Kampala, this was a furnace. I consoled myself that the rains would come at night to cool the earth. I gave up hope. The heat wave hovered for 3 weeks and moved on to torment another unsuspecting city.

My mind and body were disoriented - caught in two time zones. As one struggled to focus the other was held captive by sleep. In another part of the world, over the ocean, Mum and Dad blew out their lamps and headed to bed but it was a bright afternoon in sunny Philadelphia. I was jet lagged.

The city seemed measured and fashioned with a ruler, it was so unlike my home where buildings sprouted where they willed. With 10 choices for everything shopping was an intimidating exercise.

I took the bus into the city. I marveled at the buildings and the efficient transport systems. I stopped at every block like a kid lost in a candy store. I popped into the art store in old city, I stretched out my hand to touch the liberty bell.  The music stores had all the CD’s I had always wanted. The large shopping malls… this could have been a full time job.

There was so much to see, so many places to go. My legs felt energized and fatigued at the same time. I wanted to see more, these were after all the only few hours I had before I returned to my all-consuming role of wife, mother, playmate and house help. I walked some more and realized I was at a dead end, short of renting a boat at Penn’s landing, I could not travel any further. The sun had gone down, it was time to return home. Tomorrow was another day filled with opportunities to explore the city, visit the museums, eat the local food, and go to the library. 

I got lost innumerable times, I misunderstood expressions and statements, I was speechless when asked for my order of coffee at Starbucks, but slowly I got comfortable. I rolled my tongue a few times to stress my “r’s”, I learned to flash the smiles that disappeared as fast as they appeared. I learned to walk with purpose, trotting a little bit for time was always of the essence. But more importantly my mind was opened to the wonderful possibilities America had to offer. Instead of critiquing and comparing I adopted the things I liked; friendships and nice clothes and stayed clear of matters that ruined one’s morals.

Philly grew on me, I hated her, and then I loved her. I wanted to see her but only for brief periods at a time.  She remains engraved in my memory as my first experience of America and it’s birth place.