Houston/The Woodlands

So here I am in steamy Houston, the very reason why I am here in the US of A in the first place. The heat is sweltering, and I got the first hit back in Dallas earlier on. The temperature averages at 36 C. I have a whole week here, and this could probably serve as a preview to summer in Melbourne. The limo is taking me to The Woodlands now, 28 miles north of Houston. I will probably head down to downtown later to check it out. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So I thought plenty will be happening in downtown Houston, since this is the fourth largest city in America. Apparently, there wasn’t much at all, and the famous Bayou Place is nothing more than a cinema and the Hard Rock Café. The city is very well-planned and clean, but the heat makes it really uncomfortable to wander around. I met this weirdo who ignored me when I asked for directions, literally waving me away as though I was a fly. But later, he actually signaled for me to enter his house from across the road. Of course I refused! What a freak! Anyway, I rounded up the night by having a real good Tex-Mex dinner and met a real nice dude who helped me called for a taxi when I was stranded in the city for what seemed like forever. The cab fares were incredibly hefty, costing USD 150 for a return trip! I have decided to give up on the idea of visiting the NASA Space Centre tomorrow, as the cab fare will be about 200 bucks while the ticket is only 18. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Woodlands Mall it is called. I have decided to spend my second day here by exploring it. It is just a 10 minutes walk from my hotel, so I wasn’t expecting it to be a very exciting place, being out here in the sticks. But hey, to my surprise, they have most of my favourite shops! There were Abercrombie & Fitch, GAP, Banana Republic, aldo, Urban Outfitters, Hollister, Fossil and even Godiva Chocolates. This is my idea of an oasis out in the desert. I was obviously wrong about The Woodlands, which I thought was nothing more than a hole in the ground. And the interesting about The Woodlands is that everything must be “hidden” by trees or shrubs, in order to preserve the look and feel of a true woodlands. No wonder I though there was absolutely nothing in this place at first, since everything is well tucked away. Despite the heat, it was great fun exploring the place and “discovering” restaurants and stores in what seemed like a forest. My greatest reward came in the form of The Cheesecake Factory and Barnes & Noble (which I replenished my supply of fashion and trash mags). I will definitely come here for dinner on the subsequent nights that I am here. Work is starting tomorrow, so no more mucking around like a tourist. I have to stay alert, learn heaps, and be professional and sociable o build up my network in the field, however much I hate to. Oh well, I just can’t deny the reason why I am here in the first place. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just got back from another great Tex-Mex dinner, oblivious to the situation at first. It is about 9pm now. There is talk of a possible evacuation due to Hurricane Rita, which may hit in 48 hours’ time. There are parts of Texas that are under mandatory evacuation orders already, such as Gavelston and Port Arthur. I am tuning in to the news constantly for developing news. I was planning to have an early night in preparation for work tomorrow, but I s’pose I can’t now. There is just too much excitement. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Headed down to the lobby for a ciggie and to suss out any news. The evacuees from Louisiana (who have been permanent fixtures at the lobby and around the hotel since my arrival) were no longer there. Do they know something that I don’t? Are they being pro-active and checked out before anything happens? What am I to do now? Should I stop writing this very minute and get the hell out of here? Where do I go? What about work? An instructor at Rigaku/MSC sent a mail to my boss about the possibility of a course cancellation. This reminds me of films like Independence Day and Great Impact, except this is real and I have to react. I guess I will stay here for one more night and see what happens at work tomorrow. I have responsibilities, and can’t just bolt like that. I will call Dad now to tell him I am safe, to idle my time away. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- All Dad could say was to tell me to get out of here immediately. I told him I can’t do that as it is late now and it will be hard to change my ticket. Also, I have work to do here and it’s not right to disappear like that. Afterall, there is no evacuation order just yet. I feel somewhat disappointed that he could offer no words of comfort. How nice it was back in those days when we were kids, when we could count on our parents to get us out of any situations. That privilege is gone now and I feel more alone all of a sudden. However, I am surprisingly calm at the moment, just like the weather now before the storm. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “What’s gonna happen when Rita sweeps in on Friday?”, a Canadian guy asked when we got in to work on Wednesday. To which the program co-ordinator simply replied “I am hoping you guys will be home by then”. At that moment, I knew that the course will not go on, but the idea of evacuation had not sunk in yet. However, things started to happen in a whirlwind like manner when one of the more senior guys at Rigaku/MSC got the official word that the airport will be closed by 2pm the next day, which means we have to get out of Houston as soon as possible. That started a frenzy of ringing up airline offices and for me, it meant being kicked back and forth between the Qantas service line to the American Airlines service line. It was all very frustrating. All I wanted was to change my sector from Dallas to New York to tomorrow instead of Saturday. After more than an hour on the phone, I was finally told that no one could do anything to make that change except for the travel agent back in Melbourne, but it was 2am in Australia then! Who the hell will be there to answer my call? So in a matter of seconds, I decided to forgo that ticket and to get a new one instead. But where can I go in this big, foreign land? I have only two options: to go to New York by myself first or up to Seattle to crash at May’s. I have become a refugee myself all of a sudden. Luckily for us, they have an in-house travel agent at Rigaku/MSC and they helped me to get a ticket up to Seattle, and from there, I will fly to NYC via Chicago on Saturday. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am on yet another plane ride now, to Seattle, an unexpected city that I would visit for this trip. I had just experienced and seen something that I have never had before. It was all very nerve-wrecking and crazy. After returning to the hotel, I had only 5 minutes o pack before the driver came around to send me to the airport. I threw opened my suitcase, dunked everything in, rushed downstairs to check-out, hopped onto the limo, and we sped towards the airport. Fortunately, the airport was at the south of Houston. The freeway heading north was all jammed up with cars standing still bumper to bumper. According to the news on radio, some of these people have already been stuck on the road for almost 13 hours now and most are running out of water and fuel. The scene at the airport was just as bad. People were rushing everywhere, to buy tickets, to get to the front to check in, and to push their stuff through security. It was an absolute mad house! After spending about 45 minutes at a make-shift check-in counter, I was told that I have to go into the main terminal and join the queue all over again! His attitude changed when he saw my foreign passport! No reason was given at all and that SOB actually shouted at me! I retorted with a very loud “f*** you” and rushed into the main terminal. I almost fainted when I saw the queues but I told myself to stay calm and not to lose it. I only had an hour to go! I can’t miss my flight no matter what! I tried calling the travel agent to change my flight only to realise that they, too, have left the office. So what do I do? In the end, I actually just went straight to the counter, ignoring the queue, and practically pleaded for help. Luckily for me, my “request” was answered and I got on my flight at last. So here I am, on my way to Seattle, leaving the mad, mad world behind. I feel like I have aged at least 10 years all of a sudden. This trip is certainly unfolding in a most unexpected (and maybe even unpleasant) manner. Above all, I can’t help but wonder if it is due to my seemingly continuous streak of bad luck again. I shouldn’t be so superstitious, and I should be grateful that I have gotten out, and that at least I am not facing the risk of losing my house or my job, unlike many of the locals. But still, I find no reason to be cheerful at all. I am suddenly so tired. My fellow passenger assures me that Seattle will be a great place and that I will certainly have fun in. I hope she is right, as I really need a break after today’s dramatic episode.