Early morning following a night of beer and goodbyes, I left the University of Connecticut and officially began my vacation. First stop was Danbury, still in Connecticut, for breakfast and a little catching up with a former schoolmate who's now doing her residency there. Doc Ella was nice enough to accommodate me, treating me to breakfast and to a tour of her new town. It's always nice to know how people are doing, especially people you've known as a child; I was particularly happy to see that she's doing quite well, living her own adventure and enjoying her independence here in the US. (On another note, I also observed, upon arrival at the town, more than a couple dozen men, all Latinos, standing around the vicinity of the bus station; I learned from Ella that these were immigrants without legal papers, awaiting recruiters for possible employment. I actually saw them run after and flock around a car that arrived, apparently with such a recruiter behind the wheel. Life is difficult enough in this country, but definitely so much more for these people who came here dreaming the American dream.)

Ella also gave me instructions for getting to the house of Tita Ade, our former teacher who would be hosting me for 2 nights in New York. For my Metro ride, the instruction was simple: take the 7th train to Queens, and get off at 69th-Fisk. I inputted, "69th Fisk" in my mobile phone just to make sure I don't miss it. A couple of hours later though, as I stepped into the 7th train, my brain for some reason started dictating, "46th, 46th, 46th..." And what do you know, I got so confused and disoriented when I saw that the stop at 46th Street said St. Bliss instead of Fisk, that I ended up getting off at the next stop--52nd Street! I went down into the street carrying my heavy luggage, realized I was lost, and walked 2 blocks deciding I would just find a taxi. When I finally hailed them, 2 cabs one after the other told me they were from Manhattan and were not familiar with Queens, so i just swallowed my pride and called Tita Ade to report that I was lost. It was a couple of minutes into our conversation that I realized I had totally forgotten the right stop! I also remembered then having inputted "69th Fisk" in my phone. What. A. Smart. Little. Lady. :(

After more sweat (it was early afternoon, and the summer sunshine was killing me) and lots of cursing (directed towards myself, of course), I got back up to the metro, arrived and got off the right stop (finally!!), and reached the house. Buti na lang Tita Ade gave me unconditional love and welcome; I should've been punished for making her wait so long for me, but instead I got fed kare-kare, Queens style!