Hyphenated-Homestead

On a hot summer day in August of 1999 (Aug 2nd to be precise), I stepped off the plane in Greenville, South Carolina with a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within me. 3 long flights, Mumbai to Paris, Paris to Cincinnati and finally, Cincinnati to Greenville, South Carolina inching closer to my final destination, Clemson, where I was admitted for the master’s program in Industrial Engineering for the Fall semester.

I glanced around the airport, hoping to spot someone from the Indian Student Association, my only tether in this unfamiliar land. However, amidst the bustling crowd, there was no sign of the promised contact. Exhaustion from the long flight mixed with apprehension about being alone in a foreign country began to take its toll. Questions raced through my mind – had I been forgotten? How would I manage on my own in this new place? Time dragged on, each passing moment feeling longer than the last. I started to feel invisible, lost in the shuffle of incoming passengers and busy travelers.
With no mobile phone on me (it was 1999 y’all), I felt a pang of helplessness. What if I couldn’t find anyone to assist me?

Suddenly, a kind information desk lady approached me. “Excuse me, honey. Do you need any help? You seem to have been waiting for quite a while.”

I nodded, grateful for her attention. “Yes, I’m supposed to meet someone from the Indian Student Association, but they haven’t shown up.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps you could use the red phone over there to call a cab?” “Cab?” I questioned back. “Oh, I meant taxi. Get a taxi ride to your university.” She replied.

Following her suggestion, I picked up the red phone and it automatically dialed and started ringing. Nice! Upon my request, the voice on the other end quoted a price of $65 for the ride. Panic surged through me at the steep fare in an unknown city, and without a second thought, I abruptly hung up the phone.

Nope, I can’t do that. I confirmed with myself.

Although jet lagged, my brain was calculating the free cash (=$350) I would have on hand, after paying the fall semester fees ($2700) and initial rent ($450 a month). The rent should be divided between 3 people in the end, but the first one to arrive must pay in full, I was told.

So, if you are calculating, I came to the US with $3500 total in my pocket, with confirmed and mandatory expense of $3150 in the first month. So, I wasn’t ready to blow close to 20% of the remaining free cash (aka my ‘all other expenses’ fund) on a single “cab ride”.

“Red phone you need to rest. I can and must wait.” I said to myself. “Welcome to the America boy! It ain’t gonna be easy.”

At that time, my tired mind and tired body just wanted to go to bed. I was almost non-functional after the long journey, but my ‘real journey’ was just about to begin.

So, how did I reach the University that day? Did the ride arrive finally?

Read part 2 to find out more.

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