Scattered one

It wasn't as much of a cultural shock to come to America as to leave. My feet started sweating (I didn't know I had such a natural reaction to British accent) while talking about wine with a stewardess – seriously, are you all going to talk like that from now on? The strangest feeling, especially when the wine is described as 'a fun and fruity white wine with plenty of refreshing peach and apple flavours, lifted by a lovely acidity on the finish'. I know (I do know) not every English person is as pretentious as he/she sounds, but now I understand what Cecily meant, one year ago, talking about some lectures or workshops with English students/writers/I forget – they all seemed so intelligent:)
After the whole US trip I guess I see where Mona was coming from claiming some Americans are crazy. I always thought all the people tend to be crazy in all the countries – but there is a difference, just hard to describe. Maybe being so big and seeing so many opportunities makes one feel like one can actually achieve a thing or two even being irrational, illogical, sometimes untalented – because all the people you see on TV are nothing but that. Dave and John mentioned before going to the US – there is no objective news. And then guns, wars and being categorical about topics one is unfamilliar with.
It's a second night in a row without sleep. We started travelling to NY yesterday from Pittsburgh and Greyhound instead of giving us what we bought (an 8 hours trip straight to NY without any transfers) pleased us with 14 hours trip, three buses, waiting for each for a couple of hours and then being mistreated by the staff, especially by the ones who have a little bit more rights and powers than the others. We watched some 4 am news on TV in Baltimore while waiting for a bus to Philadelphia. So now Arnold Schwarzenegger is accused to be the father of his maid's child. I watched only one programme and to be honest Arnold's personal life is way less important to me than a milk shake and I won't investigate the situation, but the news was based on three photographs of this maid taken years ago – look, that's her three years before she gave birth to her child, that's a photograph of the document proving the father of the child is her husband, and here she is – one year before the child's birth – in a cheeky halloweene costume, and here's she pregnant. So, the journalist asked, how these news are going to influence Mr. Schwarzenegger's career?
A?
Whatever. Maybe there's only one silly show. The other news actually talk about fluids and weather, so it's all serious and actual.
But the only local newspaper I found in a gas station in Big Bend national park comes out once a month and talks mostly about country music gatherings.
The USA is the most beautiful country I've ever seen.
(19/05/2011, airplane)

'I believe in trucks', - said Justina in the rain 60 miles north from Denver. 'I believe in humanity', - I answered without any particular certainty.
Fingers gone numb and mind so miserable like almost never before; never cried on the road, this time was making a great effort not to be a sissy. Everything always ends up fine, somebody always stops, picks one up and turns the heating on. I knew that was going to happen, just was very sorry for my hands, once - I thought - beautiful. And then somebody stopped.
10 miles further - what about that? Please, and if you know a better spot to hitchhike... Rarely happens, but that spot appeared to be better. Justina was still getting herself a cup of coffee when I hopelessly asked one hip looking boy if he was heading anywhere east. Sure, he said. And invited us to a music festival in Nebraska.
Instead of going straight to Pennsylvania for my birthday we ended up staying in the Love festival for a couple of nights, in an old school bus the guys bought on the way (and then having a birthday party in a Grayhound bus station in Chicago). We finally got to see the original Grateful Dead t-shirts with the Lithuanian basketball team!




My birthday party

Beautiful Utah

We reached the land of Mormons, and it's pretty dark here. Like almost never before we got up at 5.30 and started hitching at 7, despite our effort at 10.30 we were only 60 miles further in the middle of nowhere as our truck driver forgot to get enough of fuel before getting far on the road. We sure don't have any prejudices, but all those two times when we got picked up by a Mexican person, we ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere. Very nice people though, both times. No prejudices at all, but some social groups (don't really know how to call it) never ever stop for us: it's Asian women and fat people. We met all the others already.
So many interesting people - an 89 years old man, who ran away from home when he was 15 and hopped trains for a while. 'For how long did you do that?' - asked Papapinka curiously. 'Nor for long, - the old man answered. - 3, 4 years...' He dropped us off in the best possible spot, where we got a ride for 550 miles.
A couple of days ago somewhere in between Seattle and Portland we got picked up by a trucker, a very nice person, who was probably high on sugar. Probably. I felt like I was talking to a Polish person speaking Polish - kind of get some sentences but am never sure if I get the whole thing right.
In the other car people threw some stuff away so we can fit. In the back of the car me, Justina and a small child were all sitting with comics books on our laps and giggling.
But now we're in Salt Lake City, yeah, we're still giggling. Although we'll see who giggles in the end, we'll see it tomorrow.