Chi-Land

This is Chian, reporting from the land of CHIs; Chicago.

So I have been in town for three weeks and so far the people I have met have all been super friendly, at parties, at shops, even taxi drivers.

My first night here was a little scary though. I got off the plane and dragged my two 35 kg luggage by myself to where I thought the taxi stand was, only to find out that I was in the wrong area.

After 12 hours of flying and one transit, where I also had to drag my luggage, I wasn't ready for anymore heavy maneuvers. So I frantically wave at the taxis hoping one would be kind enough to stop for a silly girl at the wrong place; none did.

However, a bus driver did stop and laughed at my effort. But he was very friendly. Even though he looked too old to help with my luggage, he still offered to help and dragged both to the "correct" taxi waiting area.

I arrived at the "correct" taxi waiting area, only to find out that it is for pre-arranged taxis...

Luckily a nice stranger called for a taxi for me and a taxi arrives. The driver is amazed at the size of my luggage and that I carried both.

On the way to my new house the taxi driver keeps asking me questions like; where are you from, what's your longest relationship, how many boyfriends have you had...and so on.

So he keeps driving and the ride seems like it's really long because I am not sure where my new house is, nor do I know if he will actually take me there. I was getting worried but pretended to be ultra-calm, which didn't work because he said, "don't worry I am not trying to hit on you I only date my own ethnicity--Indians."

After 40 minutes of driving, which included going on the same road three times, he asks if I have the correct address.

I am thinking 'that it is the ONLY address that I have!' If that is wrong then I have no house to live in, but rather a fraud to live with.

I start worrying more.

He lends his cell phone for me to contact my room mate and ask for directions. I call the house first. No answer. I then call the cell phone. No answer.

At this time I am praying that one, the taxi driver is a nice man; and two that my room mate is taking a shower.

The taxi driver texts his friend for directions, and after a few more attempts we finally arrive in front of the building.

I call my room mate one more time.

Hooray! She picked up.

She came downstairs with her cute dog Gaia to greet me.

I am relived; I was being too neurotic.