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I have always wanted to travel alone, but I had never been prepared for what happened to me last August 6.  In a be-careful-what-you-wish-for kind of way, I flew to the University of Notre Dame in Indiana alone.  Initially, the plan was for me to fly to Chicago and meet the other foreign language assistants from all over the world at the Chicago O’Hare Airport on August 5.  Somebody was assigned to pick us up there because the airport was a three-hour bus ride away from the University.  However, since I couldn’t  book a flight on the said date, I was told to make my own travel arrangement. Given no other option, I had to brace myself for an adventure of a lifetime.

When I arrived at the Ninoy International Airport, my heartbeat was so fast I thought I was heading for a heart attack.  I prayed so hard that should I die, God shouldn’t allow it to be at the Manila airport.  At the very least, I bargained with God, I ought to die in Narita, Japan.  I reasoned that should I die there, I could have at least a stamp on my passport.  Of course, God is a lot kinder than that.  Thank heavens, I am still here.

My trip wasn’t as nerve wracking as I expected it to be.  I guess, it was a pleasant one because I met some interesting people.  On my way to Narita, I met a teacher who has been teaching in the US for more than five years.  He was such a nice fellow that even if we didn’t talk much—he was bent on getting some shut eye, and I bent on finishing the last installment of Harry Potter—we got to know more about each other more than acquaintances usually do.  Going to Detroit, I met a Filipino couple who was on the way to attend their son’s graduation in Florida.  In the more than eleven-hour flight, I got to know about their and their children’s lives.  The wife complimented how pleasant I was to talk with and she added that she didn’t bother talking to her seatmate on the Narita flight because the passenger looked snobbish.  Her comment got me thinking: Was I on my round-eye mode again or was I obviously lost and desperate that she wanted to reach out to me?  Going to Chicago was not that bad.  It was a shorter flight and thank God I was able to sleep for a few hours.  However, before landing, my heart went bam-bam-bam again knowing that I had to find the bus shuttle for Indiana.  Chicago O’Hare is so huge, it looked like the Makati Business Center.  I was so sure I was going to miss the bus; however, a few angels helped me find my way.  On the bus, I met Roberta, a plus-sized American woman who was very chatty with me.  I was so glad to be seated next to her because she was really nice to talk with.  Problem was, I was so tired that half the time she was talking, my eyes were ready to fall.  I caught myself more than once dozing off during our conversation and when bolted to attention, I covered it with a feigned laughter or an “oh, yeah” to give her an assurance that I was still with her.  One time, I woke up with her talking about her friends.  I gave a hearty laugh and the next words I heard from her were: “They’re dead.”  Oops…

When I got to the University, the site floored me.  I have never seen such a beautiful campus.  It’s so, so, so big.  Imagine this: it has a huge church at the center of the campus, two big lakes, a bookstore, a bar (as in pub).  Its students’ center has Burger King, Sbarro, Starbucks, etc.  I told one of the teachers there that the campus reminded me of Hogwarts, and he said that there is a connection between the campus and Notre Dame.  He claimed that the Great Hall in the Harry Potter movie was patterned after their South Dining Hall.

The sessions that we had were really insightful.  But on the last day, I was so bushed.  I didn’t get much sleep the night before because my body clock was still adjusting to the change of time.  Besides that, evenings there are unusually bright. ogwartsHH  Eight pm there is as bright as 5 pm in the Philippines.  The last session that we had was on dealing with stress.  We were taught breathing exercises.  However while doing the exercises, I fell asleep.  The FLTA from Tanzania had to pat me on the back, and when I woke up, I was just in time for the lecturer’s salutation.

The following day, I set off for California.  My flight was at 9:00 am so I had to take the 4:10 bus to the Airport to catch my flight.  I really planned to check out early because the bus station was several steps away from the Pasquerilla East Dorm, where we were billeted.  I knew that my three bags would slow me down, so I went out from the dorm more than an hour before the scheduled bus ride.  Lo and behold, I lost my way to the bus station.  I had been going around the campus and the station was nowhere in sight.  It was a foggy morning, but I was so wet from sweat, carrying the luggage and half-running.  At 4 am, I was still looking for the bus.  Knowing that I only had ten minutes, I was really resigned to the fact I wouldn’t be able to board the bus.  I was so exhausted, and my arms were excruciatingly sore from pulling my bags.  I remember praying so hard, and just in the nick of time, I found the station.  Five minutes after, I was grinning from ear to ear.  Everything went as planned.