If you are expecting to find a description of my heavenly summer in the States here, I will disappoint you - you won't see anything like that here. Because I wouldn't want to lie to the person reading this blog, who is currently in complete confusion, doubting whether it's worth it, and in trembling anticipation of their upcoming trip. So let's be honest right away, shall we?;)

I never had a fervent passion for travel or a wild interest in other countries. So, when my friend (who dreamed of a trip to the USA) suggested I try the Work and Travel USA program, I just replied, "Let's try it, why not? It would be great...". At that moment, it didn't even cross my mind that in six months you could actually end up in America and live there for more than 3 months. Honestly, this feeling didn't leave me even later (even after the consul's affirmative answer to getting a J-1 Visa, and even more so - after 1-2 months of staying in this country). And do you know why? Because America is completely unlike Russia! But I think you already guess that yourselves.

But guessing, reading something on the internet, hearing something from the news - that's one thing, but experiencing it all yourself is completely, completely (and I repeat again to get the point across) COMPLETELY different.

I'll start with our arrival at the New York airport, from the very, very beginning. It is notable because everything went wrong from the start: our luggage didn't arrive in New York at the same time as us (which was equivalent to "Your luggage is lost, and it is unlikely to return to you. We apologize" for us back then). So imagine us, two twenty-year-old girls who just flew into a foreign country, barely understanding the words spoken to them in English (the level of language is irrelevant here, by the way, both of us had an intermediate-to-upper-intermediate level at that time, but cultural shock and adaptation, alas, you won't get away from them!), and who are told that all the things they need for their future life for 3 months are now somewhere unknown and it's unclear when they will return to them. Just like that. I don't think it's worth talking about the "slight" confusion and panic that followed.

Nevertheless, we decided not to lose heart and figure out what's what. Everything turned out to be not so scary, because, firstly, we were not the only ones (the luggage did not arrive on time for many passengers flying with us), and, secondly, the airport had everything clearly set up for such situations. They collected the necessary data and addresses of their place of stay for the next 2-3 days from everyone.

Everything went quite smoothly: a very responsive administrator, smiling with all 32 teeth and ignoring our miserable appearance, showered us with sparkling jokes during all the explanations, and tried in every way to cheer us up. And it is worth noting that he succeeded! For which I am grateful to him. Here, I think, we met typical American service for the first time. So, we left the airport, despite spending an additional 3-4 hours in it, already satisfied and once again set to conquer America.