After two weeks of very little sleep and high levels of stress, I departed L.A. for North Carolina via Salt Lake City, Washington D.C. and New York. If you look at a map, that route makes no sense. The original plan was to meet up with John for Christmas in North Carolina, and then spend New Years Eve in New York. Tickets to Greensboro are ridiculously expensive, so I decided to meet up with John in New York and drive down with him to North Carolina. Guess what? Tickets to New York in December cost even more. So I hit Hipmunk and found myself some cheap red eye flights in and out of D.C. - even with the cost of the bus it was dramatically less costly. Luckily we're now spending NYE in D.C. so it all works out for the best.
What I really appreciated was the sense of movement, of transition across an inconceivably large country, which you don't normally feel when you're travelling by plane. Changing planes in Utah made me feel like I was actually on a voyage, instead of hopping onto a steel tube of death for 6 hours and then hopping off in New York. The mountains in Salt Lake City were powdered with snow, and so beautiful. D.C. was freezing; I took the metro to Union Station and a cab from the station to Tom's, past Capitol Hill, and I got to eat dinner with Tom before he dropped me back at Union Station to catch my bus. I sat in that bus station for an hour. For the first half hour, the coffee I was drinking kept me warm, but the second half hour was just miserable, the cold stinging my nose and fingers and knees. The bus ride was warm, and quiet. I sat next to a stranger; we didn't speak besides for the obligatory 'Is this seat taken?' right in the beginning. At one point we must have fallen asleep because I woke up and we had toppled onto each other, my head on his shoulder, his head propped up by my green pom-pom beanie clad head, a strange moment of intimacy in an otherwise lonesome day of transit.
I arrived in Times Square at 11:30. Turns out that the sight of the Manhattan skyline makes me smile uncontrollably. John had arrived in New York earlier that day, and was already celebrating at his friend Kaj's apartment in Soho, so I caught a yellow taxi driven by someone who definitely isn't from the U.S.A. (oh, New York, I love you already) to meet him and his friends, have drinks and go out dancing till 5 in the morning (oh New York, I love you even more). The next day was spent nursing our hangovers and eating (American) biscuits before heading out into the Brooklyn night for dinner, and then to crash an outrageously hipster house party, fitted out with faerie lights, mulled wine, a chocolate fondue, and authentic Brooklyn hipsters, with their fauxhawks/combovers and neck tattoos, and cool.detached attitude to everything. Sunday we left for North Carolina...at 4 pm. It's a NINE hour drive. 6 of us in a minivan, me trying unsuccessfully to work on my paper in the back seat, and feeling instantly queasy, while we gently bickered over the choice of audiobook (we settled on Gone Girl), and listened to the swish-swish of passing cars and the drumming of the rain. We arrived in Winston Salem at 2 in the morning, cold and tired and happy to be somewhere semi-permanent. John's (and Kate's and Rob's) mum was still up and happy to feed us chicken pie and tell us all of their news. The best thing about our arrival though, was their Christmas tree. I've never seen such a big, beautiful tree, a real fir tree, with lights threaded through its boughs, reflected in the big gold baubles, and topped by an angel. The Stephens were highly amused by my enraptured photographing.
I love, love, love the Stephens family: Chad and Jane and their kids Sam, John, Rob, Kate, Joe and Bui, are just the loveliest, warmest, most embracing people and they have been so kind in welcoming me into their home over Christmas. I was anxious and sad about spending a Christmas away from home, and I missed my family terribly, but the Stephens made up for it a little, a lot actually, and this nomad is eternally grateful. I've spent the last few days recouping and sleeping and just being around gentle folks who make me laugh almost constantly. It's only a short holiday, but it's a real holiday. Heavens, they even gave me a Christmas stocking filled to the brim with goodies, and gifts! I almost teared up more than once, but I kept it together. It was a good Christmas.
I'm so grateful for my good fortune in finding a friend like John, who gave me somewhere to be and has introduced me to SO many excellent human beings. I even went to an NAACP protest in support of allowing dreamers (undocumented kids) to attend college, followed by an incredible discussion by NAACP leaders about Ferguson and Eric Garner, and what 'Black Lives Matter' means, all whilst eating pancakes. I had to keep pinching myself. How is this my life? MY life. How did that happen? Yesterday, we decided to go climbing. We left too late and then got lost, so we didn't actually make it to the mountain, but we drove around the North Carolina countryside, and it is so exquisite. Green expanses sliced up by nevergreens and interspersed with patches of wheat or oats or some other grain, harvested in the fall and now stubbly and sparse. AND I went to watch John's little sister Bui ride her horse as the sun was setting. There's something remarkably calming about being around horses. I really miss High Birnam. If I end up back in Johannesburg, I'll have to go and visit much more often. I digress.
All this is to say, belatedly, Merry Christmas. Lots of love from Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
