Departure and Train Time

The Observation Car

The literal act of traveling may be the least enjoyed part of a trip, but there is a lot to gain from point A to point B. The departure began with an arrival to Illinois Terminal in Champaign. Introductions and bag checks from Sarah, the Amtrak staff member. Unsure of her title, I would call this sturdy and curly-box-dyed-red-hair attendant a sort of travel and boarding compendium. Her voice incongruent to her appearance, as her carroty-red lips spoke with confidence and eloquence. The vocals of overhead announcements contained a passion for her work and comprehensive knowledge of items to address. I perceived a fervor for travel within her words. The train was late by eleven minutes, with plenty of time in nearly three hours of train station gossip to introduce myself to classmates. As we lined up to take our seats, the humming roar of the train was heard prior to view of bright lights donning the train’s face. Conductors guided us by the wave of a gloved hand, wearing classic hat and uniform of navy blue. A unique automatic door folded open into two halves, as we breached the paved platform. People shuffled and paired off, finding seats where they were available. In mere minutes, the train sought motion. Images of the countryside flew passed the metal borders of the panels of windows. I was able to snag a seat next to a slim woman in her 30s, with plain blonde hair that touched down to the small of her back. She was pleasant and crafted small talk well enough to help me feel at ease.

Selfie Paradise

Our class was seated in Car 34114. My eyes paced, as I noted the green strip lights that pathed the floors, resembling a landing strip to guide air travel. Diverse individuals on route, with the majority already curled up in attempt to sleep. Relaxing on a train is a cruel joke, as the rickety turbulence bounces and jives to its own avail, as if it is joyed by our unrest. Visiting the observation car for a night cap with classmates was luckily a quick decision, as the beverage items would be closed for evening in six minutes. Windows from seat level scanned all the way up and curved part of the ceiling on either side, across both walls of the double length train car. Seats sat at an angle in pairs, with swiveling centers that jostled patrons at every rough turn. A black framed poster hanged on the wall, showing a silhouette of a man trumpeting in the moonlight. Louis Armstrong comes to mind as the words “The CITY of NEW ORLEANS” printed across the top are read. Seated behind our group was a stoic Amish man wearing a traditionally long, grayed beard and a large black hat. Surprisingly, he had found the car with similar intentions, as he pulled a metal flask out of a holster on his belt.

Silhouette Louis

The next few hours were grueling, with tight quarters in a seat next to a stranger. I self-administered a sleep aid and this allowed me to manage an uncomfortable four hours of “R & R”. I positioned myself in a backwards slant and unlatched the plastic tray, to utilize as an ottoman. Draped in my flower print Very Bradley throw and leaning into a downy pillow brought from home was not enough to create a complete illusion of my own bed. Tossing and turning has been a common dismay for myself, even with the comforts of home, so hopes of adequate slumber were dismal at best. I came prepared with ear plugs, pink skull candy headphones, and a black eye mask. Dimming the sounds and lights to a dull and unclear rumble, my eyes grew tired and I imagined I appeared to onlookers as a double-blinded pirate with steampunk headgear. As I finally dosed, it seemed that moments later I was jolted awake. A swipe of my phone was enough to learn that we were in Memphis, Tennessee. I stood, gathered some toiletries and swayed back and forth on my venture to the downstairs washroom. The soap and water felt refreshing on greasy skin. Toothbrush grinding away the taste of yesterday’s midnight snacks.

Hometel roomates

My anxiety had lessened, as the final preparations before travel had me frazzled. Stressors of leaving my companion for a week were oddly paired with excitement for ventures of a new city. Random thoughts of possibilities for the next week entered and exited my mind, as exhaustion and lack of sleep took its toll on my once clear mind. I ran through the mental checklist again, as I had completed my final tasks before leaving town. Medications, check, bank for cash, check, toothbrush, check. Fluttering anxieties, swathing my clarity. The trip to the train station was a poignant goodbye with a generous boyfriend who offered to drive me and decrease my concerns about leaving poor Wanda, my 2015 plasma purple Mitsubishi Mirage, in a foreign lot for a week’s time.

Waiting for the train to arrive to the station, began a worry that people on the trip would group off. As I looked around the terminal waiting area, students were seated three or four together and chatting only to one another. Worries of feeling left out were quickly replaced by thoughts of excitement of what the trip could be. I learned to be optimistic and choose to have a good time, regardless of how others behaved or treated me.

Roomates and cocktail hour

Anxiety was a theme of the beginning of the train ride, as the conductors failed to seat our group together. I was sat next to a complete stranger, after I had planned out the entire train ride with a friend, as far and sleeping arrangements, eating, and comradery. It is a stinging feeling of unease to be pushed out of a prepared comfort and into uncertainty. I noticed that the students who had gotten their way and sat where they had planned did not seem to feel any empathy for those who were put out. I began to wonder if selfishness of a few would take over the rest of our opinions. I hate to feel disbarred from the group, as I have always been an outsider. I connect with the raconteurs, the beatniks, and the subterraneans; I do not conform; I refuse to mold the mores of society or individuals that pressure others to see the world from their “superior” view.

The journey did educate me on the value of appreciating the moment. People get so caught up in the itinerary that they forget to smell the roses. To me, learning is more easily gathered by soaking in the culture, people watching, listening to the sounds of the night life, admiring the architecture, and capturing the moments. Photography is a passion of mine and I do not want to feel that I am burdening others by participating in a favorite hobby. I am learning to take deep breaths and brush off the surrounding emotions that seem to saturate my environment at times.