American soil
I still can’t believe it! I’m back home. It’s a feeling that I don’t fully understand yet and cannot explain. Being away from 9 months is a long time and one appreciates home in a way they never knew possible.
The flight from Buenos Aires left an hour and a half late, so we didn’t get into Dallas until 7:30 a.m. Add in time for immigration and customs processing, and I wasn’t even close to catching my connection at 7:45 a.m. American Airlines finally got me a flight at 1:00 p.m. and I arrived in Minneapolis at 3:50 p.m. Leah, Paul, and my parents greeted me with smiles and a pencil-drawn welcome sign. They asked if I wanted to rest or had other plans. I didn’t care what we did–I was home in America.
So where does one go to find great food, variety, and customer service? The Cheesecake Factory of course. Wow, was that food delicious! I ate Jambalaya and savored every bite as the condiments danced and intermingled in my mouth. The taste buds rejoiced because they had grown bored with the lack of spice and flavor of bland Argentine food. I drank 6 or 7 glasses of free water and marveled as the man in the white apron kept refilling my glass from this magical pitcher.
We relaxed, watched some Twins baseball, talked, and I went over some mail. Before going to bed and absolutely crashing, I gave everyone their gifts. Leah got a painting of two people tango dancing. Paul received an Argentina soccer jersey and a small design of the soccer god Maradonna. To my mom I gave a small painting/drawing of an Argentine café while my dad got a miniature wood airplane for his office.
I remember coming home from college for Christmas break and how it was more meaningful every time. This is something much more distinct and the next month is going to be interesting and very enjoyable. I know the time will fly.
