Buildings everywhere. None of that familiar Calgarian flatness - no, rather, thirty-story apartments, gigantic shopping centres fashioned in all kinds of shapes, train stations with tall clock towers proud as sentinels parading on the battlements of a strongly-defended fort... ~
Seas and seas of people. Umbrellas floating over each head like a tiny beacon - blue, purple, pink. ~ Faces rushing by. Clothes that look different, yet the same - swirling skirts, collared shirts, impossibly high heels, rainbow-hued sun visors, a Dr. Seuss quote (“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”) on a white top. Bows, bangles, jade pendants, silver bracelets (one of which I am now a proud owner of). ~
Countless temples, statues, postcard-worthy scenes. ~ Click, flash, picture taken, move on. ~ Smile - your face is right next to Mao Ze Dong's! ~ Move your face a bit closer to that lion - now it looks like you're kissing its nose. ~
Flashing low battery sign. ~ Secret relief. ~ Putting down the camera, turning actual eyes onto century-old artifacts. Drinking in the sights gluttonously. ~ Tiny blue cranes fashioned on a queen's crown. ~ Lances, crossbows, arrowheads. ~ A meticulous reconstruction of an early-settlement village, complete with dozens of pointy trees and even windows in the huts, all facing towards the centre as a sign of man's first sense of community. ~
Darkness. But no - lights. Lights everywhere. ~ Flashing helicopters emitting police-like blue and red flashes as they spiral up and up and up into the sky, then float lightly down to crash gently onto the pavement, just as the eager owner runs up on his short legs and grabs the toy for another run. ~
Smoke. Twinkling strobe lights peeping through the haze, merrily calling out to tired wanderers. ~ Tanned men grilling fresh lamb kebabs, fish kebabs, vegetable kebabs. ~ Rows upon rows of food waiting to be consumed, enjoyed, licked off of greasy fingers. ~ Spices upon spices. ~ Blood red soup, with globs of crimson oil floating on top. ~
Dancing. ~ People swaying to the same beat, clapping their hands, shaking their sweaty bodies, stomping and turning and twisting. ~ Freedom, restrained into one square. ~ A sudden impulse, a rush of boldness - and then running up to join them, twirling like I know what I'm doing, laughing at my inability to keep up, smiling at the knowledge that it doesn't matter if I don't know the steps. ~ Anonymity in numbers. ~ Just another face, black hair, brown eyes, glasses. ~
Beautiful, perfect lighting in ceramic bathrooms, shining rays off of every reflective surface - which, incidentally, is every surface. Dismay at opening the first stall and finding the now-familiar hole in the ground, with the rib-like indents on the sides of the filthy ceramic toilet. ~
A whole spread of lotus leaves and flowers, bobbing gently as the motor boat sends soft ripples across the surface of the lake. ~ Strolling in a park, scabs on my knees, dirt under my fingernails, skin slowly browning. ~
An aunt, belly swollen with pregnancy. ~ An alarmingly pink newborn, tiny fingernails perfectly formed and little button nose, eyes not yet open, with the world waiting for her firsts. ~ Figuring out how to prepare infant formula, stirring as the yellowish-white powder dissolves into the hot water. ~ Some blood. ~
Chickens. Chicken poop. Sows. Barns. Hay. Ramshackle doors. ~ Makeshift locks, CO2-spewing motorbikes racing and bumping up and down hilly roads. ~ Staring up at thousands of twinkling stars and getting lost in their endless meaning, yet cold indifference. ~
Hills. Mountains. Valleys. Lakes as smooth as mirrors, deep with shades and hues of green, blue and indigo. ~ Water falling, trickling, streaming, so clear in places that each rock, fish and aquatic plant seems to have an even more distinctive outline than in the air. ~
One cousin's shy smile, another's grinning bunny imitation, complete with arms tucked close to the torso and hands bent at the wrists, just begging for a carrot to be clenched between those curved fingers. ~ A grandfather shouldering a pink backpack halfway throughout the day, looking like a pre-schooler, revisited. ~
The sky. Clouds. Above clouds. LAX, with its beautiful, interminable ocean and its thin strip of beach. ~ Landing, landing... impact. ~
Blue, red, white, yellow, orange, green. Up, side, down. A bright smile as the colours match and the Rubik's cube is solved, once again. ~
Then, suddenly - emptiness. ~ No lines to the bathroom. ~ No one pushing and crowding to be able to see the baggage carousel and claim their luggage. ~ Empty roads, open stretches of highway. ~ Home. ~ Comfort, loneliness, and familiarity. ~ What now? ~
Time to make a collage. ~
