Hey From LA chunk 3
Jul. 28th, 2005 08:21 pm3rd chunk:
Now That I'm Here
The one thing I did not expect to happen while on arrival would be to walk into a film set. And yet that is exactly what had happened.
I, somewhat lost and looking for my uncle, went to the arrivals hall - what greeted me were giant lights and cameras and people with signs going "Welcome Home Leila! Happy Birthday!" and balloons and roses. I was wondering which reality show were they filming now and whether this "Leila" person was on our flight. Hey, might explain the Daniel Bedingfield lookalike.
It took a while before I found my uncle. And it was then that I figured out what was up with the film crew - a movie named Shanghai Kid is being recorded at the airport. There were huge signs next to the door (they weren't put up yet) saying that there's a movie being filmed, do know you're on camera. I don't think they've started filming when I came up, but if you watch the movie and see a somewhat lost girl with a pile of bags...you know who...
The arrivals process itself was OK, if somewhat unfriendly. I was at the wrong immigration counter (I was at the one meant for citizens) and got sent off to one for visitors. The officer there was all right, but rather formal - he asked me what I was doing here, what course was I doing, where was I studying. Gave me entry for six months. He then took scans of my index fingers and my retina. I was warned about them beforehand, but the retina scan was so quick that I barely even noticed anything being scanned.
There were two luggage carousels for our flight; it was kind of confusing trying to keep an eye on two carousels at once. I thought my bags had arrived, but before they reached my side of the carousel, they were gone.
It was at the second carousel (after the first one stopped spitting bags) that I found my bags, as well as the Bangladeshi couple. I heard them talk to each other in Bengali, and then noticed their Bangladeshi address on their baggage, so I talked to them for a while. (Something inherited from my mother.)
They weren't the only Bangladeshis I bumped into that day.
I was waiting at the customs counter when I suddenly hear the customs officer ask me "Are you Bengali?" in Bengali. He saw the "Bangladesh" entry next to my nationality, and he conducted the whole thing in Bengali. He let me go (he just wanted to know what the heck I was doing here and in Malaysia) but it was still kinda jarring. I've travelled across continents and I hear language used in my family. Odd.
The second customs officer was very straight-to-the-point - "OK, go that way". Not friendly at all. Oi.
My uncle took me back home via the SuperShuttle - shuttle buses that take you from your home to the airport and vice-versa. Fare per person was on the high side...US$20+...that's about RM80! Might as well fly to your house if it's going to cost that much...
We were accompanied in the Shuttle by a few other passengers, including one from Venezuela who was doing a recording of the whole thing for his brother. The trip itself was pretty interesting - a raised round purple restaurant (serves alien food, I'd imagine), biker dudes with LOUD speakers blaring R&B music, a tarot shop right in front of a Catholic church, Little Koreas and Spains popping up here and there...
My uncle's apartment turned out to be in the Little Korea area. Kind of - they were surrounded by Korean buildings and establishments. Most of the neighbours were either Korean or Spanish. (It was unfortunate that I heard a major racial slur yelled by one of the neighbours against the Koreans this morning.) It was a simple one bedroom apartment (the living room became a second bedroom) - modest, but livable. And worth getting used to, since this will pretty much repeat itself over the course of the 19 or 20 weeks ahead.
I think my uncle here is a cousin of my mother's. He and his wife are doing science-related post doctorates; they met in university in Japan. They have two sons; Picasso, two years younger than me but an absolute genius and a half, and Priyo, a seven-year-old that cracks me up hardcore. He wants to be a scientist but he's got more of a future as a comedian.
I slept at around 1 am last night...woke up at 5 this morning, partly because the giant fan had been turned off. (My sleep gets affected if the electricity goes off anytime in the midst of my sleeping.) I couldn't get back to sleep again, even though I was really tired. I saw the sun rise; early, but quite quick.
Everyone got up at around 6 or 7, and we had breakfast together. All sorts of things - hash browns (yum), wheat cereal (urgh), some other things I can't remember. And then I was left alone.
Los Angeles can be quite boring if you're home alone with no one to talk to.
I spent most of the day online, watching television...those old episodes of Newlyweds and Love Connection are disturbing. Very obvious cases of date abuse and spousal abuse and disrespect, and they're laughing over it. There was also a zanier quality to the older gameshowes though...everyone was natural, not prissied up and trained for TV.
My aunt came back later and took me to the Children's Hospital, where she works. While she was at her meeting, I walked around...it was nicely-decorated, with giant alphabet blocks and trees and book tables and all sorts of fun kid stuff. The gift shop had some faery greeting cards, some of which I've seen before online...but nice! Faeries are always good.
I felt really out of place though, whether at the hospital or on the buses that brought us there...fish out of water; me out of my own element. Very strange.
We encountered the "unfriendly LA person" again while at the 99 Cent store. I was looking for a body towel (I couldn't find mine) and a prepaid calling card. When trying to figure out options for cards, the cashier was very surly and uncooperative. "They're all the same, why should you bother?" Not exact words, but exact attitude.
What's the matter with people? Is politeness a lost virtue now?
I'm back home now. I'm probably missing a lot of details here, but I really should get back to sleep. Tomorrow is my last day (for now) in LA; on Saturday I'm flying off to Denver.
And then everything starts.
Now That I'm Here
The one thing I did not expect to happen while on arrival would be to walk into a film set. And yet that is exactly what had happened.
I, somewhat lost and looking for my uncle, went to the arrivals hall - what greeted me were giant lights and cameras and people with signs going "Welcome Home Leila! Happy Birthday!" and balloons and roses. I was wondering which reality show were they filming now and whether this "Leila" person was on our flight. Hey, might explain the Daniel Bedingfield lookalike.
It took a while before I found my uncle. And it was then that I figured out what was up with the film crew - a movie named Shanghai Kid is being recorded at the airport. There were huge signs next to the door (they weren't put up yet) saying that there's a movie being filmed, do know you're on camera. I don't think they've started filming when I came up, but if you watch the movie and see a somewhat lost girl with a pile of bags...you know who...
The arrivals process itself was OK, if somewhat unfriendly. I was at the wrong immigration counter (I was at the one meant for citizens) and got sent off to one for visitors. The officer there was all right, but rather formal - he asked me what I was doing here, what course was I doing, where was I studying. Gave me entry for six months. He then took scans of my index fingers and my retina. I was warned about them beforehand, but the retina scan was so quick that I barely even noticed anything being scanned.
There were two luggage carousels for our flight; it was kind of confusing trying to keep an eye on two carousels at once. I thought my bags had arrived, but before they reached my side of the carousel, they were gone.
It was at the second carousel (after the first one stopped spitting bags) that I found my bags, as well as the Bangladeshi couple. I heard them talk to each other in Bengali, and then noticed their Bangladeshi address on their baggage, so I talked to them for a while. (Something inherited from my mother.)
They weren't the only Bangladeshis I bumped into that day.
I was waiting at the customs counter when I suddenly hear the customs officer ask me "Are you Bengali?" in Bengali. He saw the "Bangladesh" entry next to my nationality, and he conducted the whole thing in Bengali. He let me go (he just wanted to know what the heck I was doing here and in Malaysia) but it was still kinda jarring. I've travelled across continents and I hear language used in my family. Odd.
The second customs officer was very straight-to-the-point - "OK, go that way". Not friendly at all. Oi.
My uncle took me back home via the SuperShuttle - shuttle buses that take you from your home to the airport and vice-versa. Fare per person was on the high side...US$20+...that's about RM80! Might as well fly to your house if it's going to cost that much...
We were accompanied in the Shuttle by a few other passengers, including one from Venezuela who was doing a recording of the whole thing for his brother. The trip itself was pretty interesting - a raised round purple restaurant (serves alien food, I'd imagine), biker dudes with LOUD speakers blaring R&B music, a tarot shop right in front of a Catholic church, Little Koreas and Spains popping up here and there...
My uncle's apartment turned out to be in the Little Korea area. Kind of - they were surrounded by Korean buildings and establishments. Most of the neighbours were either Korean or Spanish. (It was unfortunate that I heard a major racial slur yelled by one of the neighbours against the Koreans this morning.) It was a simple one bedroom apartment (the living room became a second bedroom) - modest, but livable. And worth getting used to, since this will pretty much repeat itself over the course of the 19 or 20 weeks ahead.
I think my uncle here is a cousin of my mother's. He and his wife are doing science-related post doctorates; they met in university in Japan. They have two sons; Picasso, two years younger than me but an absolute genius and a half, and Priyo, a seven-year-old that cracks me up hardcore. He wants to be a scientist but he's got more of a future as a comedian.
I slept at around 1 am last night...woke up at 5 this morning, partly because the giant fan had been turned off. (My sleep gets affected if the electricity goes off anytime in the midst of my sleeping.) I couldn't get back to sleep again, even though I was really tired. I saw the sun rise; early, but quite quick.
Everyone got up at around 6 or 7, and we had breakfast together. All sorts of things - hash browns (yum), wheat cereal (urgh), some other things I can't remember. And then I was left alone.
Los Angeles can be quite boring if you're home alone with no one to talk to.
I spent most of the day online, watching television...those old episodes of Newlyweds and Love Connection are disturbing. Very obvious cases of date abuse and spousal abuse and disrespect, and they're laughing over it. There was also a zanier quality to the older gameshowes though...everyone was natural, not prissied up and trained for TV.
My aunt came back later and took me to the Children's Hospital, where she works. While she was at her meeting, I walked around...it was nicely-decorated, with giant alphabet blocks and trees and book tables and all sorts of fun kid stuff. The gift shop had some faery greeting cards, some of which I've seen before online...but nice! Faeries are always good.
I felt really out of place though, whether at the hospital or on the buses that brought us there...fish out of water; me out of my own element. Very strange.
We encountered the "unfriendly LA person" again while at the 99 Cent store. I was looking for a body towel (I couldn't find mine) and a prepaid calling card. When trying to figure out options for cards, the cashier was very surly and uncooperative. "They're all the same, why should you bother?" Not exact words, but exact attitude.
What's the matter with people? Is politeness a lost virtue now?
I'm back home now. I'm probably missing a lot of details here, but I really should get back to sleep. Tomorrow is my last day (for now) in LA; on Saturday I'm flying off to Denver.
And then everything starts.