I left Montreal with a McGill pin stuck to my lapel. I couldn’t pack it so I just put it on (thank you Dr. Cartwright). From time to time I look down and smile.
I’m resting my fingertips on the counter, nervously watching the nice BA lady in that hideous BA blouse. It looks like someone ate confetti and threw up on their shirt. Anyways, I’m tapping my fingers, nervously, as she weighs the bags.
They’re immigrant suitcases, 30 kilos apiece. The limit being 32. I’m praying that I won’t have to spend the next 10 minutes emptying precious books into the airport trash, but she slaps a heavy sticker on and lets me go. So I take my ungainly immigrant carry-ons to the gate.
As I’m on the plane I think of Noah, when he dropped me off. I don’t remember saying anything profound, but I think he had tears in his eyes. That means the world to me. I drink a scotch-and-soda and a little bottle of wine and feel much better.
I watch Mystic River and wake up in Heathrow. We’re on the tarmac at 9:45 and my connection to Doha, Qatar is at 10:20. I cut through the security line, but no dice – I’ve missed my flight. I hate Doha anyways. It’s boring and scary. One time they took my passport and disappeared for half-an-hour, which made me very very uncomfortable. I always feel this underlying tension in the middle-east, and I mainly want to get out. Thankfully, the BA lady puts me on a direct to Colombo at 22:00, which would give me time to meet Justin. I’m picking up Internet on my phone so I send some emails to him and my mom, but I’m too sleeeeepy to leave the terminal. Justin doesn’t have a phone and I’m waiting for him to call, so it doesna work out. I end up stretched across 3 seats, waking up every 20 minutes to wipe the drool off myself.
Airports are weird little malls – as if Hermes scarfes, perfume, and liquor are the base commodities from which all other commerce is derived. I wish they had art galleries in airports. Or something. Then I’m in Colombo and I can’t think of anything but how hot it is. I guess I’m home. They lost one of my bags but I don’t really care. It’s only 25% of my worldly possessions.
On the taxi ride home I’m pretty sure I’m going to die. Everything in SL is two lanes with 4 rows of cars, cows, bikes, trishaws, people, elephants, monkeys, etc. There are no stop signs or traffic lights and the cows jaywalk like it’s their job. This driver is crazy, but not aggressive enough. He takes stupid risks like dodging in front of lorries going the other way and not even gaining position. I reach over for my seatbelt but there isn’t one. OK.
When I get home I eat some real food and shower. I put on a sarong and wife-beater and fall asleep. Anu leaves the door open and the mosquitos carve a tattoo in my back. Welcome home.
It feels like I haven’t even been away. We watch CSI and everybody goes to sleep. I reheat some rice, dahl, and some vegetable i-don’t-know-what-it-is. This is great.
hey
i’m just your basic brown american going to mcgill for the first time in september… so we have at least two things in common. i stumbled upon your site and it is ridiculously cool. It seems like you had a blast at mcgill and this site has a lot of really good articles/ writings/pictures. did you take all these pictures with a p800? i saw it in one of the reflections. i’m a gadget geek and that phone is awesome. anyway, just wanted to let you know that i’m reading. i’ll talk to you later
Hey, i just read your entry(I Am in Sri Lanka) and i couldn’t help but smile. I live in Europe, but spent a good part of my life in montreal…unfortunately my university career has gone down the drain because i live in a countrythat will remain unmentioned, which lacks all structure and organization- forcing me to forfeit school to keep my sanity. I regret it, and i’m dreaming of going back to canada and getting into mcgill, but i have my doubts about achieving said dream thanks to my government’s idiocy and desire to break people’s wills. So where does Sri Lanka fit in? Well, my parents live here, and being in this uncertain transitory stage in my life, i find myself here as well. I came to visit my parents for xmas, but due to recent events i find myself working here now in the hopes my humanitarian efforts will help this country in one way or another. I love this place, but i’m dedicated to my goals….So, to finally get to the point, i have a question. You seem to know colombo well, and clearly you studied at mcgill….i was wondering, if i stay after my contract(job) has expired and decide to enroll myself in univ. here, is there an exchange program that will someday bring me back to montreal? ANY help regarding the matter would be greatly appreciated, thank you.