poésie de l’immigration

So I live in America…

Kari took on the duty of announcing my successful arrival in the US to the blog world. But I thought a few more words might be in order.

The flight itself was delayed, cramped, and generally unpleasant. Air India seem determined to cram as many passengers as possible into their planes, and then to serve as few liquid refreshments as possible through the flight, whether the air conditioning is working or not. If you have an option, choose someone else.

But once I hit immigration at O’Hare all seemed to go well. Processing my visa took a while, as the official had to go through the hundreds of pages our application now contains looking for various documents to stamp, but he was unusually friendly for one in that role and I was soon through. And that’ll be my last experience of immigration for a year or so.

It’s taking a while to make the adjustment that this time I’m here to stay. Unpacking helps, and so does the increasing sense of familiarity which arise from my bike rides around Grand Rapids. Today I broke from my beaten track and rode widely around East Grand Rapids. (Only partly because I didn’t quite know where I was. I did always have reference points)

For those who are worried, I am relying on Radio 4 to help me retain my accent.