This is LA!

Most of my friends know that it was my first time to be out of the country. No, I didn't go to Vietnam, or Korea, or Thailand, or Malaysia. I didn't go to Japan. And no, my first time abroad was not in Macau nor was it in Singapore. Typically, Filipinos who go out of the country for the first time visit these nearby countries and not go on a flight that's more than 10-hours long. My first time abroad, on the other hand, was spent in America.

Needless to say, I was uber ecstatic about my trip that I didn't get to sleep the night before. I was worried about a lot of things -- my passport, my visa, my luggage, my english, my presence of my mind, and well, my brain... to name a few. Anyway, I successfully got on my flight without throwing up (out of anxiety and excitement). It was also quite advantageous that I wasn't able to sleep the night before. The lack of sleep kept me calm during the flight. Consequently, the buzz slowly dissipated. I took a direct flight from MNL to LA; it was a long flight... long enough for me to get some rest. I woke up right before landing and had the luck to catch a glimpse of the view outside the aircraft. I saw something unfamiliar... which snapped me back to the reality that I was laying over another country... the city planning was different; it was well-organized. No scattered clusters of homes. No apparent slum areas. "Oh my God. I'm in LA."



Even at the very moment I set foot in LAX, I still couldn't believe that I was already in America. When I got there, I felt so small... literally and figuratively. The feeling was so overwhelming, I couldn't seem to figure out whether I was excited or scared. I was all by myself. I felt so small... and yet so big.