New York: day 607

Oh HELLO. Can you believe we are back here, in America. Whatta place. I spent this week immersed in the sludge that is reverse culture shock. Popular descriptions of RCS say that its symptoms include boredom, isolation and irritability. For me, the signs have been inability to ride the subway, locking myself out of my apartment repeatedly and thinking every woman wearing a skirt above the knee is a prostitute.

New York: day 50


President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama pose for a photo during a reception at the Metropolitan Museum in New York with, H.E. Paul Biya President of the Republic of Cameroon
and his wife, Mrs. Chantal Biya, Wednesday, Sept. 23, 2009. (Official White House Photo by Lawrence Jackson)

This official White House photograph is being made available only for publication by news organizations and/or for personal use printing by the subject(s) of the photograph. The photograph may not be manipulated in any way and may not be used in commercial or political materials, advertisements, emails, products, or promotions that in any way suggests approval or endorsement of the President, the First Family, or the White House.

New York: day 11

Whenever I need to relax, reflect or pretend I’m in Asia, I go to Times Square. I like it. I have good associations with the place. I was there when Michael Jackson died and the hullabaloo made me proud to be an American.

David and I walked there from uptown sometime after midnight Saturday and rejoiced in its ephemera, including an unassuming man with a boa constrictor around his neck (can’t decide if he’s on par with or above the man with the cat on his head) and being called fags by some Jerzettes. It was wonderful.

And that is how I concluded my summer vacation.