“What a cliché!” The movie is about an African prince who visits the US and provides an ‘outsider’s’ perspective on the cultural aspects of the free land. Whatever you may think of the storyline and how it was delivered is entirely in your lunchbox, but I can tell you from first-hand experience that coming to America certainly does not reserve a sense of opportunity for disadvantaged foreigners only, but provides a blatant picture of overwhelmingly abundant resources, even to a “well-to-do white dude”, like me.
It started well in advance. Both Ash and I started the snail moving (that was the spark that entered our minds of relocating to the US) at least in 2019. The snail trail was very thin and built on the criteria of a financial goal (as well as the alignment of various interstellar constellations). These stars included work, school for Lukas and the family blessing. It wasn’t until the end of 2021 when things started to line up and the relocation looked less like a snail trail, and more like an international highway. Roadblocks included the Covid-19 pandemic, which became the catalyst for us getting ‘vaccinated’, due to the US Administration’s requirement for foreign travelers entering the country. Covid-19 should ultimately take up a separate ‘novel’, which I may make some annotations on sometime in the near future (hopefully before my sieve-ish mind totally blanks on the details). This adventure is still in progress as I write this, but I will do my best to recapture the more significant aspects…..
So, in order to leave Mongolia, and to enter the United States of America, we needed to satisfy the requirements of the international community’s pandemic related ‘statutes’, which included vaccination and a negative PCR test conducted within one day prior to the commencement of travel. Ash, Lukas and myself presented to the international medical clinic, of which we had our brains touched with a rotating cotton tip. I returned to the clinic that evening to retrieve the documented evidence of our negative result. This ultimately was more important than our boarding pass. The next morning, after a few hours of excitement affected sleep, we were on our way to the new international airport of Mongolia (yep you guessed it – the “Chinggis Khaan International Airport”- like they’ve got nothing else to be proud of). Leading up to this point, we had only talked about the relocation of our whole lives to the US, as though it was a fabrication; a figment; a projection of insanity – something that a fiction writer would enjoy as a plot thickener. But there we were, standing in the check-in line, staring at reality. I know that this move was huge for Ash. She hides the discomfort, but she finds it very hard being apart from her Mum. Lukas as always, was indifferent, whispering candidly in response to all questions his mantra “it is, what it is”. Like always, I feel new beginnings are an opportunity to enrich life. The way I was looking at it, this was going to be (and already was) a new adventure.
As the plane lifted off, a sense of it being just “us” overcame me, which resonated within and provided an odd calm. Lukas’ mantra might just be the attitude that more people need to adopt. The first in-flight meal that we’d eaten in over two years was tasteless, yet still delicious. In-flight entertainment on the MIAT flight was non-existent, however the flight remained, through its very nature and ultimate destination, thoroughly enjoyable. It wasn’t long before we were descending in order to land at Incheon. Here I was expecting that we would need to provide some good answers to questions in order to be granted access to the international airway to the United States. My research had proven rewarding as I’d already completed a number of documents required by the US Government and of course the PCR results certificate and vaccination record also paid dividends. Five hours later, we were on another aircraft and ready to fly east over the Pacific. This next flight was everything I remember about a long-haul flight, any sleep obtained was at the cost of neck and back pain. The resultant jetlag would be long lasting for sure. The flight was long, but all weariness evaporated when we commenced our descent into San Francisco and United States’ airspace. A feeling of surrealness couldn’t be ignored as we disembarked and made our way to the area that would ultimately make or break this pilgrimage, US Border Customs.
The interaction with US Border Customs was enlightening, providing us with a very poignant education on ‘not what to do’ as a permanent resident of the US. Even though Ash was able to keep her status, it is not something to take lightly (maintaining the status of a permanent resident – especially where there are thousands of people currently waiting in line to enjoy the benefits that this provides). But to cut a long story short, we were officially through the gates and into the grassy green fields that is, the United States of America. So, after a short wait for an agricultural scan that was a process that identified and then removed two bottles of airag from our possession, and then another short wait for the taxi that I had pre-booked but had relocated due to our lengthy rendezvous with Customs and the lovely people in the Agricultural team, we were on our way to the RIU Plaza at Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco.
First impressions included freeways, driving fast, pickup trucks and more freeways. These impressions lasted pretty much all the way to the hotel. The hotel itself seemed to be run entirely by non-native English-speaking people, which in itself is not an issue, but it makes me wonder if the level of service was affected as a result. One case in point would be the breakfast staff who exhibited absolutely no reservations in berating each other in front of guests, in addition to speaking rudely about specific guests in front of other guests. Breakfast in itself was abundant and I must say great value, but it’s not just the food that you pay for. Ash at this point in our stay had mentioned a couple of times that ‘things had changed’ since she had lived in San Francisco, some ten years before.
America – the land of the free. It is reverberated patriotically and now more often, politically. On face value, you can easily see where this mantra originates, however if you dig down you may discover that freedom is a ‘camouflaged catch-cry’ that can be misrepresented. It is easy to understand why people here seem to be ignorant within their privileges, unable to see wood due to it being obscured by so many trees. Television, social media, YouTube and Spotify cannot be viewed without a financial cost in order to avoid the homeland weapon of mass destruction – advertising. It is my guess that this society grows fat, both metaphorically and literally on the economic cost of individuals dedicating their focus on respective entertainment devices at home, and at work. You just have to watch 30 minutes of television (a service that consumers need to pay for in order to receive approximately 10 minutes of targeted marketing), to understand the trends and specific niches of the audience, depending on the time of day. You’ll watch 3 commercials that relate to the enjoyment of delicious fast food, then a commercial on the treatment of heartburn and reflux, followed by a commercial on cancer treatment medication. I’m sure that there are those people who are innately aware of how the masses behave, but I am reminded that there are over 300 million people in this country. Sheeple indeed. Coming from Mongolia, it is almost cringe-worthy to see such an abhorrent abundance of resources. Again, I believe ‘freedom’ to be a concept that could often escape the lips of the ignorant, more often than not. During a brief shopping interlude at Folsom, I spent a little time (and a little money) in an Eddie Bauer store. Right next to this store was another called “Casual Male XL”. It was on second glance that I realized that this store tailored only to larger than normal sized men. It’s evidence like this that makes me believe in the false freedom that is easily manipulated by corporations and allowed by the lawmakers in this land. Where people are enticed into a life of addiction, which then becomes politicized by the sentiment of discrimination and victimization.
American standards would have to rival the most stringent in the world. Even the options available in motor vehicles for entry level models are more than what I’ve seen before. Again, I can’t help but feel that there is a bubble here, albeit a very large one. We drove a 2021 Nissan Rogue SE around for a week. Wow. What a pleasure to drive. This model is about mid-range, but came with traffic control, CVT and with a 2.0 liter engine pushing out some phenomenal torque, you’d think you were driving a sports car. This car would automatically slow you down if you were approaching another car in front of you on the freeway, and then speed you back up to your pre-set speed once the lane was clear. Perhaps I’ve been sheltered from such things, but for me, this was mind-blowing! After reluctantly returning the Nissan to the rental agency, we camped out at Ash’s friend’s place east of Sacramento for a few days. Lukas had gone to Louisville, Kentucky for Christmas, which was very much the catalyst for what we did next.
Our next move was to hire another car and make the great pilgrimage from North California across to Louisville, Kentucky. Ultimately, our goal was to see Khaliunaa, pick up Lukas and return to California, but the journey itself was going to be the experience we were looking forward to. So, from Christmas Eve, we collected a Volkswagen Tiguan and commenced our Trans-American tour. Driving on interstate or even intrastate highways was done in only one fashion: FAST. It was with ‘in-your-face’ type obviousness that the roads were not really designed for little cars, but more with prime movers towing monster trailers in mind. Suffice to say, if all trucks stopped travelling, the US would probably cease to exist within a very short time frame. Another point of interest that I made while scanning the landscape, was the number of gigantic US flags that lined the highways. They were enormous. Huge symbols of patriotism – a constant reminder to the citizens of the US to always fight for the ideals and the perceived freedoms that are sold to them by the national authoritarians. We made our way down the middle of California to Bakersville, a small place apparently well known for its car racing history. I’m not too sure what other claim to fame the town might have had, but we knew for certain that spending as little time as possible in this place was high on the priority list. The motel we stayed in possibly may have been a meth lab in recent times. We weren’t sure whether we would wake up in the morning without an angry dermatitis crust on our skin, but after some trepidation and the resignation of faith unto the God of shitholes, we slept soundly and were up before the sun to continue our journey, leaving Bakersville far, far behind.
Day 2 was destination Vegas. The Tiguan climbed a seemingly endless ascent until it plateaued thousands of feet higher than the California mid-state. Interstate arterial highways did not get any smaller and with it the truck tally did not dwindle either. Primm was the town that heralded the state border crossing into Nevada. This place was trapped in stasis as any form of habitation seemed absent. A roller coaster stood erect in the background as a form of monument to a bygone era, or perhaps more to the expectation of travelers continuing towards the playground that is Las Vegas. Prior to arriving in Las Vegas, we had booked a hotel room which turned out to be off the strip. Once we established this fact, we thought we would cancel this and book a room closer to the ‘action’ per sè, but also somewhere closer to a show. As it was our Christmas Day, we wanted to see something memorable. Now, in a nutshell, the Las Vegas strip that the world has heard of, could simply described as a constantly facelifted, botox injected establishment designed specifically to render your wallet cashless. The porter/concierge who delivered our bags to the room said it eloquently (after I gave him a $10 tip) – “Welcome to Planet Vegas”. Now, that was actually one of the things that I forgot to mention previously – tips. In any hospitality-based role, Americans EXPECT a tip, regardless of the level of service applied to the customer and I’ll add that the level of customer satisfaction is irrelevant. For me, this is a travesty as it can negate the motivation for hospitality employees to strive for excellent customer service. But overall, the level of service you would ‘expect’ to receive in the US is good. It just gets to me when a tip becomes a mandatory thing you need to either choose to pay or not to when you fork over $100 to go ten-pin bowling. Cray-cray. Getting back to Vegas, we headed out of our hotel room at the Mandalay Bay Hotel and Casino and commenced our Las Vegas strip study. Everything we saw was excessive and artificial. There are replications of the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower amongst so many other re-creations. The Bellagio Hotel and Casino, although impressive with its fountain show, flagrantly exhibits an overbalancing in the scales of wealth, particularly with its street side lake (and I mean an actual lake) in the middle of a community that actively conserves water due to its geographical proximity in the Mojave desert. Upon our return to the hotel, we decided to wallow in the Vegas atmosphere and try our hand at some gambling. First through the loss of money in the slot machines, then by gaining some money at the roulette wheel. When we were about $120 ahead, we quit and had a quiet drink to soak up the atmosphere. Later that night, we attended the Cirque de Soleil production of the Michael Jackson “One” show. Overall, it was enjoyable, but it didn’t leave me with the rapture that I had experienced after attending Cirque productions previously. Actually, it was a little anti-climactic after the hype-build up that had developed within myself in the knowledge that we were ‘going to Vegas man!’. The hotel room really didn’t have anything to differentiate it from other hotels we had stayed in. So after one night in Vegas, we checked out and started heading South.
After picking up a few items from Trader Joe’s heading out of Vegas, we cruised down towards and then adjacent to the Hoover Dam, but not over it. Seeing the majestic aqueous serpent that is the Colorado River from a distant elevated vantage point really gave credence to the subliminal poetry that is ever present on this magical plane of existence. Moving further along, we crossed over the border into Arizona. Our intended destination by the end of the day was the Grand Canyon, however we fell short of this goal as we wanted to play it safe, not knowing how available accommodation was nearby the canyon itself. As a result, we spent the night in Williams (about an hour south of the canyon). A good night’s sleep saw us up well before the sun and on our way to the Canyon in order to enchant our eyeballs. And enchanted they became. Nothing prepares you for the sight that the Grand Canyon provides. There is no church on this planet that moves you more spiritually than places that nature itself manifests, like this one. The complete vastness of the landscape just simply smashes you in the face and reduces your significance to all time lows. If it wasn’t for the fact that we really wanted to get further across the state, we could have stayed and soaked this atmosphere in for eternity, yet the road beckoned. We vowed at that moment, that we would return to experience the Canyon on a more complete level.
Cruising south, we traversed the mysterious and enchanting state of Arizona, arriving in Tucson at around 3pm. It was our intention to find the famed ‘Boneyard’, the resting place of retired military aircraft. What we found was hectare after hectare of fenced in, secured airfields just brimming with aircraft. The majority of which could easily be assumed as just dormant. There were all types of aircraft, but the plane I was looking for was the F-14 Tomcat. Unfortunately, tours had been suspended, and it seemed that any type of entry into the area was restricted. The best we could do was approach a fence from the southern side somewhere to speculate and ogle at the vastness of military power. Just as we did this, an A-10 Warthog chose to make its presence known overhead, lazily performing maneuvers through the blue Arizona sky. Unsatisfied, but resignedly I trudged back to the car. Ash was taking some photos of nearby cacti whilst extracting needles from her legs. We got back into the vehicle to discuss our next move. We could have stayed put in Tucson, but we were thinking more about speeding up our trip and getting to Louisville, in order to prepare for the return journey to California. So, we decided that we would get as far east as we could before the sun disappeared. After a quick supply stop at Safeway, we were back on the Interstate, heading toward our end of day destination, Willcox.
Willcox was a very quiet town about an hour from the New Mexico border. After resting in a basic motel, we again hit the road with nothing more in our to-see-or-do list other than getting to Kentucky. So, basically the next 1,500 miles were covered in 2 days of driving. That being said, being as descriptive as I can, still won’t give the landscape or the experience opportunity justice. What I can say is that we will endeavor to retrace our steps at some time in order to expand on our experience. From Willcox, we drove straight across New Mexico and into Texas. We stopped at El Paso and had a burrito in order to authenticate our location. Texas is a big, flat, yet beautiful piece of country. We decided we would push on and make it to Fort Worth. It is poignant to note that whilst driving through the night, the ‘city lights’ or what seemed like them as we moved along the highway did not seem to dim or disappear. We arrived in Fort Worth after midnight and had a room booked at the Wyndham hotel. There was absolutely no recollection of that night as we both slept soundly after a big day behind the wheel.
Breakfast the next day included the ‘Texas shaped waffle’. Thanks to Joe for educating us on the finer points of operating a waffle machine. We left Fort Worth, moved through Dallas and pointed the Volkswagen North-East. Before long, we crossed into Arkansas, where I immediately noticed that motorists seemed less polite on the road. We turned left before getting to Memphis and drove northwards adjacent to the Mississippi River. Crossing the border into Missouri, we then took a right turn and spanned the river, entering Tennessee. From there we moved northward again, finally crossing into bourbon country – we had been in four other states this day before making it to Kentucky. Again, we had a very long day driving, which we concluded when we made it to Hopkinsville. We stayed at the Wyndham hotel due to the good experience we had the previous night staying at the Fort Worth Wyndham. The next day would see us reuniting with Khaliunaa.
Hopkinsville is a quaint little town that apparently would be a good representation of the rest of Kentucky State. Lush greenery and trees (both deciduous and non) throughout the area. The weather wasn’t particularly bright, and the climate had been warm leading up to our arrival. We heard that as a result of this, there were tornadoes that had been through the surrounding area, creating quite an array of devastation to a lot of buildings, residences included. Meeting up with Khaliunaa and Jacob (her boyfriend) was fantastic. She has certainly grown as a human, and as a person that would love to take a parental role in her life, I could not have been prouder of the achievements that she has made. Her college studies were paying dividends as her results were amongst the highest in her program. As I write this, she has just commenced a dual program, where she will eventually graduate with her master’s degree.
By Dugald H. Best
