Back in America: Part 3 of 3

But I definitely digress! Upon my arrival at the Miami International Airport, not only did I not encounter any familiar faces that belong to anyone resembling my mother or my brother, my most important piece of luggage did not arrive with me. They say that one should always pack prescription medicine and an extra change of undergarments in their carry on bag in the event of such occurrences, but I did quit the opposite and packed ALL of my undergarments and ALL of my prescription medicine in the one bag that did not arrive. I also happened to arrive on Memorial Day Weekend so the airport couriers service was quite slow in reuniting me with my lost baggage. As I stood in the line to claim my lost bag surrounded my passengers elated to be reunited with their friends and others extremely upset with the fact that the lost baggage was not going to materialise at the exact moment they wanted it (which just so happened to be RIGHT NOW for one particular guy) I found myself fighting with all of my might to hold back the tears that were whirling around inside because of the absence of my beloved partner Will, the absence of my mother who said would collect me from the airport and the absence of my bag containing my prescription medicine and every single pair of undergarments I own. I found a Chupa Chup in my bag and that magically helped me continue fighting the good fight until it was my turn at the baggage counter and my mother appeared. Despite these initial shortcomings, I spent 5 days visiting my mother and brothers in Miami, melting in the sun walking 5 meters from the footpath to the car park, sunbathing on the famous South Beach (which resulting in zero tan due to the massive clouding effect in the sky), fearing for my life as I attempted to cross the main street devoid of proper zebra crossings en route to the non-pedestrian-friendly American phenomenon that is the strip mall and figuring out how to rid myself of Australian dollars – apparently “banks don’t accept foreign currency” now. I met up with a friend whom I had not seen since my platform shoe days in year 11 and had some good heart to heart talks with my mother about “life” and my brothers about going to Cuba, aboriginal Australians in the state of Illinois, racism in middle America (One shopkeeper reportedly said this to my brother and his Belizean friend, “ We don’t serve ‘spics here!”) and the alternative-world-saving-globe-trotting path I’ve taken with my life. Miami was great.