You have arrived at your destination.
We got off at the Florence stop, where we were supposed to be met by a so-called transfer that I had booked back in Minsk. We stepped out, and there was no talk of the cold anymore; it was unbearably hot. Getting into a car with air conditioning and drinking water was the most perfect thing in the world. We were taken to the student center, where we bought SIM cards, got a lot of information, left our suitcases, and went to a nearby cafe for breakfast. It was that very traditional, cinematic American breakfast. And, perhaps, that was the most American food I ate during my entire time in the USA.
There we met a couple of Ukrainians and encountered taxes for the first time, which the waitress ran after us into the street to collect. Then the most interesting and important part began: finding housing. Returning to the center, we started looking through all the ads in VK groups and messaging guys who had already arrived. At that time, a girl wrote that there were 2 free spots in the family where she was staying. There were three of us, but we had no options, so we decided to walk to that address and, in the worst case, at least stay there for the night. We just walked using the GPS, looking at everything around us, and calling home via WhatsApp. It was on this journey that we learned there are almost no sidewalks or pedestrian crossings there. We got lost, took detours, and were already exhausted from the heat. When we almost reached our destination, the water ran out, the sun was baking like at the equator, and I remember taking a hoodie out of my backpack and wrapping it around my head. My legs were barely dragging, and it all reminded me of the show “Survivor.” But it turned out that no one at that address had even thought about renting out housing. We had to return by Uber. Back at the student center, we started calling all the ads, but with no success. That Ukrainian couple from the cafe called us, and we went to the pier with them. This was, perhaps, the best part of the longest day of my life. We had no place to stay, entry to the pier cost $1, and a bottle of cold water was about $3. Evening was approaching, the student center was closing, and we stood on the pier, gazing into the ocean. You stand there, the wind blows on you, the salty air envelops you, and the sun embraces you. You finally realize that you made it, and you feel so calm inside that you are ready to spend the night right there. In the end, we found a place to stay with an Uzbek family. Upon arriving, we felt sick from the room on the 2nd floor without windows, where mattresses were lying on the floor and 3 girls were already living. And that very day, we visited Walmart at night and encountered the charm of American stores and products. We spent the night like migrant workers, on the floor, six of us in a small room, but it was a special night, the first night across the ocean.
Then came the first morning of a different life, a different climate, a different time, a different language. We went for a walk to get acquainted with work. Sun, so many people, we found the main store and found out who would be working where. I remember walking into my store, so happy, full of hope, and ready to work. At the threshold, a short, bald man was already looking me over. I approached him, said I was here for my offer, and I’m here, hooray! Let’s celebrate! But then I realized, this is no joke, not a summer work experience, not a fun surf shop with boards. This is a business that isn't going to make any discounts or allowances; get ready to grind! I felt this slogan for myself the next day when I arrived at the store doors at 10:30. A woman named Kim, with a black headscarf, looked sternly at my smiling face and said: “I told you to come at 11, and what time is it now?” I decided to disappear for a while to be safe and went for a walk for those 30 minutes.



