7 AM on my watch. Lying on the bed, I see the sun rising. Its rays pierce my window and begin to wake me, telling me it's time, time to get ready to go. And I, for my part, understand that tomorrow I will meet that same sun, but in a completely different place.
The day passed like in a fog, I barely remember it now. Because that day there was nothing in my head except one thought, the thought that my five-year-old dream would come true today...
Here we are already driving in the car with my family in the direction Karaganda-Astana. We listen to music and have fun.
But no, there wasn't a single hint that in 5 hours we would part for a whole 3 months. Deep down, of course, we all understand that we will miss each other very much. I will never forget my mom's tears, my brother's instructive words and my sister's smile before the flight. And the funniest thing was that at the airport my brother said that if anything happens, call me immediately! I'll sort everything out. I have always been amazed by his circle of friends. It felt like they were everywhere. And they were always watching me. Well, okay, what's there to be surprised about — we are Kazakhs!
All the control and ticket checks were completed, my mom's advice was heard. And that calm female voice announced that my plane had arrived and was ready to take me to my best summer. I hugged everyone tightly, saying that everything would be fine. I left, pulling my stylish leather suitcase in the direction of greenline – a.
I would never have thought that I could go crazy from flights. Watching the clouds for these 9 hours, you think a lot, of course not about the meaning of life, but about things like why can't you use phones on a plane? But Wi‐Fi is allowed. Maybe because it's paid? Why do they show the same film?
It's stuffy. I, with acquaintances and friends, stand on the street in NYC, in front of the airport; trash is flying and lying on the street, which is not the best impression for me.
One thing I know for sure — there is nothing more wonderful than the feeling when you're in America, adrenaline shoots from your eyes and you can't shake the feeling that this world is YOURS! And no trash will stop you from being happy today. So, an unfinished exam session, worries about the embassy interview and quiet gatherings on the roof of the 5th floor and the ritual of smearing cake with close friends in honor of your departure are already behind.
Somehow we managed, we managed to get out of the territories of JFK airport.
I realized one thing: the airport of our beloved capital – Astana – is very miniature compared to New York's. If you still couldn't do it, the people in orange vests will gladly help you. During an hour ride on the subway, I saw the most extraordinary and bold people regarding their appearance.
Somewhere I read that New York is the capital of freedom! But I didn't think that in everything.
It was cold. The air conditioners worked at 100%. But that didn't stop us from watching the funny moves of street dancers in the carriage, which, I think, made us even happier and made it clear that this is New York, baby!
After climbing fifty or more steps up, we came out into the large hall of some building.
The sounds of the big metropolis could be heard, giving me goosebumps all over my body. I remember how my friend, who had the luck to visit the States earlier, asked me "Are you ready to see it?" and I, like from the cartoon SpongeBob, answered him: "Ready, captain!" And then the doors opened and I saw how the rays of that same sun fell on my face. I take a step and stand with my mouth open like a statue. But in a moment this metropolis fully embraced me and made me fall in love with it. The variety of so many languages shocked my ears. And the variety of nations — my eyes. They were all hurrying somewhere and running late. It felt as if they worked 24 hours a day, because it never stopped, it was a wave of people on the streets. That's what they call a city that never sleeps.
We had a whole five hours at our disposal, because Greyhound tickets were purchased online in advance (I don't recommend it, because you can always buy them right there at the booth from a seller for half the price). Probably for us Kazakhs this is wild, but over there across the ocean airplanes are much cheaper than buses. Think about that.
Time probably never passed so quickly. Five whole hours! That's 300 minutes!
We wanted to see everything. Someone wanted to see the Statue of Liberty, someone the Brooklyn
Bridge. And I just wanted to walk, buy a $5 Starbucks coffee and become part of
American life. By the way, that's exactly what we did. Later, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Manhattan and its windows; the glow from the skyscrapers outshone the starlit sky. Then, with the help of Googlemap we returned back to Greyhound (Portauthority), which is located at the intersection of 8th Avenue and 42nd Street.
Oh my God people, there is Wi‐Fi and an outlet here! Those were my first words while being on the huge bus. By the way, my bus was headed to the state of South Carolina to the city of Myrtle Beach. It was equipped not only with Wi‐Fi and an outlet, but also with a typical bus driver. What is that typical one? — you ask, I answer: a typical
American driver is usually a woman, an elderly white man or a "black" man of any age, who chew gum and smile when meeting people. During the trip, before it started, the driver explains the rules of behavior on the bus; if then I could already understand the "black" accent I would probably have laughed too.
There was almost no sleep. Because during 12 hours of travel we changed about 6 buses. And then I began to curse myself for not buying a ticket on a comfortable plane that would have taken me not 12 hours but only 4. In the early morning, when we were promised that this would be the last transfer, a rather, to put it mildly, "plump" woman sat down next to me, who really looked like the heroine of the comedy film "Big Momma's House". So, she prayed to God quietly the whole trip and muttered something in incomprehensible English. I fell asleep. I open my eyes and realize that my head is resting on her shoulder or on... no, on the shoulder, definitely on the shoulder, I hope. And my friend is dying of laughter in the front seat of the bus. She in turn sweetly smiled and said "Good morning, sunshine". It was awkward.
The bus doors opened, and suddenly hot air hit my face. And all my clothes became wet and sticky. It took me a long time to get used to this. My town was very close to the Atlantic
Ocean, and the humidity took over. Of course, the first impressions of the city — the humid air — could not spoil it for me. The city turned out to be very fun and youthful. The most interesting thing was that there were more students from Kazakhstan there than the actual residents of the city. Even on social networks, such as VKontakte, there was a page for the city, and there I noticed several times that students could help learn Kazakh. Desperation or just a joke, I never found out.
We found accommodation surprisingly quickly, through ads in the city student center. About the student center: for us newcomers to this city the student center was like a refuge from problems, and a place where you could ask all your questions and definitely get answers. A place where you could buy everything you need, from a SIM card to a bicycle. A place with computers and the internet (by the way, very convenient for keeping in touch with family). About housing. I think that in all typical student centers there is a bulletin board where everyone can find whatever interests them. Jobs, a home, an invitation to a party, a new bicycle, a photographer, a purebred cat, etc.
At our disposal was a cozy house with a kind Russian landlady and her perpetually grumpy cat. The neighborhood where we lived looked like something out of famous American films.
Green lawn, purebred dog and white gates. What I liked most about this house during the three months was that it felt like my home. There is nothing more wonderful than the feeling when, after a hard day, you come home and feel the long-awaited comfort and warmth.
Myrtle
Beach is rich in a variety of beach shops and family restaurants. In one of those cute restaurants called "Grandma's Kitchen" I worked all three months as head cook, and I don't regret it at all, although there were many downsides. Do you wonder how I became head cook right away??? Well, at first I was just a cook's helper. His name was Tony (I don't know why, but everyone I met there was called Tony or had a friend with that name). He was
African American and could cook very tasty and, most importantly, with soul. Besides us, there was his friend — the dishwasher. He somehow contributed to my rapid career leap. Every single day, from five in the morning to two in the afternoon, they always argued about something. And one beautiful day I had a day off.
I was away from work for only 24 hours, and upon returning to the restaurant my boss told me that I would now work alone, without Tony. When he began to explain the reason, our dishwasher suddenly walked into the kitchen, and I was speechless and understood why Tony would not be working. His eyes were bruised, his face all in bruises and abrasions, and I won't even mention his lips. It turned out their friendship wasn't that strong. Not two weeks later, this same dishwasher locked his girlfriend, a waitress, in the refrigerator. And guess where I was? Yes — I had a day off. After three months of working there, it was hard to surprise me with anything. The time came, and I realized I couldn't work forever at just one job. And the search began. Without much thought, I chose the
Family Kingdom amusement park, which was quite popular in the city. I liked this place more because there were many workers there, including people from Kazakhstan. There I found peace and quiet, and many loyal friends from different countries. I worked as a ride operator.
Every day I met the funniest, boldest, angriest, sweetest, fattest, thinnest, most pleasant people in my life. Folks! If you want to have two jobs and earn money, you will need to start searching within a couple of weeks after your arrival in the city. I'll explain why: every week a wave of students from different countries arrive there with the same goal. And employers will get a large selection. So everything is in your hands.
To put it briefly about work, I gained an experience I'm proud of. I am very glad I took the risk and flew across the ocean.
Long positive days and sleepless nights went by; it happened that you come home from a party, take a shower and go to work in a great mood. And you get so used to it that it becomes your reality. But only in the end do you realize that soon you will fly away, and you are unlikely to return to these dear lands. That makes your soul very painful and cold. I won't write much, each of us perceives the same scenes in our own way and expresses them differently.
September 1.
Knowledge Day. Everyone goes to schools and universities. Autumn has begun.
Officially, summer is over. And we leave for journeys with tears. The ticket to
Astana was bought for September 10. And we had a whole 10 days at our disposal, that's
240 hours of summer. Suitcases packed, gifts bought. We are ready. The city tour was bought in advance through our acquaintances in that same student center.
The incredible, democratic capital of the country — Washington, Niagara Falls and vibrant New York were to be seen with our own eyes.
Day one.
Nine hours on the road with friends in a comfortable bus transported me into an
American youth film where I was the main character. My legs and neck went numb, but it was worth it. Huge, monolithic buildings filled almost the entire city. Walking through it, you realize how restrained this city is, which holds the title — capital of the USA. Having bought myself a couple of hot dogs and a cola we immediately moved toward the Washington Monument. The monument in honor of the first president of the USA was for the last several years the tallest structure on the planet, until the
Eiffel Tower in Paris. And you feel it. I look up and my head spins.
And the shadow of the monument falls on the distant buildings of the city, which have not yet awakened.
After taking a decent number of photos, we went for another selfie, to another
US president — Lincoln, to his memorial. He sat on his throne without the slightest movement. The only thing I remember well is that there were many people. Chinese, English, black, red-haired, light-haired — whoever you can imagine. Everyone wanted to touch him, to take a photo with him and even take a piece of him with them.
Washington gave us a magnificent, rich, sunny and rainy day. But most importantly, it gave us something money can't buy — memories and impressions.
If you love museums and have a burning desire to visit one, enter it confidently and don't be afraid that it will be unaffordable, because practically all of them are free. Even the Space Museum, which was featured in the second part of the film "Night at the Museum", won't charge you a cent. The day in the capital ended with me, standing on the balcony of the 10th floor, watching the sunset and realizing that all of this was real.
Day two. I see a dream. How splashes of water hit my face and make me happier, and the view simply knocks me down. I open my eyes and realize it was not a dream. Niagara is like the pictures from Google. Thousands of tons of water fall into the abyss, hitting large rocks and creating something incredible, something captivating. It's true what they say — you can watch water forever. Water is alive. Having bought insanely expensive souvenirs and fridge magnets for relatives, we moved on. Oh! I almost forgot to say that the enchanted forest that separates the waterfall from the shops and restaurants can draw people into it. Yes, yes, but not by magic or anything like that, but because it has free Wi‐Fi installed. There was an occasion when we lost a girl in that very forest, but luckily we found her alive, unharmed, and most importantly, with new photos that filled her Instagram feed. At 9 PM as usual the laser show for tourists began. It was magnificent. Such a number of lasers constantly pierced the waves and made them lively and dancing, which impressed me for a long time.
Day three. We are waiting like never before. Frank Sinatra's "New York" plays in my head. Only a couple of hours left until arrival in the city of millions of dreams and, of course, mine. I see the sign "WelcometoNY".
It was September 3, 2014. A whole seven days, that's 168 hours, remained on our counter. Imagine, 20 million people and only in one city. I think that such a number speaks for itself. 20 million people didn't just decide to live here for no reason; many of them are refugees and students from different countries who work for their dream, giving themselves to it completely.
Our acquaintances, from whom we bought the tour, recommended an excellent hostel of their friend, a dreamer like them who once came to the Big Apple with a goal. They even promised us a small discount. Of course, we couldn't refuse that. $35 a day suited us, because we knew that life in this city would cost us a pretty penny. Opening the coded door of the room, which almost the entire hostel population knew, we realized that the proverb "crowded but not offended" has its limits. Twelve people from different corners of the world, and the four of us from Central Asia — what could be better!? After a cool shower and unpacking our suitcases, we went to get to know the city. The first day was naturally difficult but fun. After all, we were newcomers. Did you know that New York has the largest subway system in the world? It consists of 468 stations and carries about 8 million people a day. That's where we got lost — three times. A one-way fare costs about $2.5; if you plan to stay in New York for at least a week, I advise you to buy an unlimited card for 7 days for $30 — very profitable. Because you will need to use the subway every day. And those five-story stores where you can spend a whole week but do the shopping of your dreams? Calvin Klein, Chanel, Michael Kors — all for you for a hefty sum. But the main thing is that it's all made in the USA! And what about the best museums and parks? No, I couldn't miss that. Even if you don't love grass and sun, not relaxing and not lying on the lawn in Central Park is a sin. Another of my dreams, besides America itself, came true. I visited Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum and the Natural History Museum, where the main character of the film "Night at the Museum" got a job as a security guard.
Over these seven days we saw almost all the sights of the Big Apple. From the Statue of Liberty to Chinatown. We missed cutlets so much that we even went to a little Russia — Brighton Beach. Walking through ever-lively Manhattan, I began to reflect. There are moments when a photo frame you took carries nothing in itself; it's better to see everything with your own eyes, remember it and leave a piece of yourself in it. Every day lived, every minute, we discovered something new, something alien. We learned that in Chinatown Chinese people can live without knowing English, we learned that all buses are equipped with lifts for wheelchairs. Even some subway stations are equipped with elevators for the disabled. We learned that New Yorkers don't pay attention to clothes. If you're dressed in something clean and you don't smell, then nobody cares what brand your jacket, pants or sneakers are. We learned that New Yorkers easily cross the road on a red light and no one cares.
The week passed quickly and fleetingly. The last night in the city. Everyone is having fun and exchanging contacts on Facebook. They learn new words for themselves. They tell absurd situations that happened to them, and we, in turn, just sit and think about nothing: neither about tomorrow nor about what will be in a week, we live only for today. And I like that. It's so American.
Passing the streets of Queens and Brooklyn for the last time,
I saw the very essence of the city and the lives of the metropolis' residents. Those pictures in magazines and moments in films are only for tourists. And real life, the hard life, flows right here.
The plane touched the ground softly and smoothly. The pilot announced that the landing went perfectly, and I was finally home. I was overjoyed. Finding my suitcases, I head toward the exit from the airport. Only a single glass wall separates me from my relatives and friends. I see my mom's tears of joy, my friends' smiles and I completely dissolve in them. I gained a lot in the States: friends, a new iPhone, but most importantly something no one can take from me — my memories.