Chapter #5

[Scrap #1] The good news was that I finally got a job. For one day. It was a few weeks after Kamil took me to a Thai restaurant for lunch but also to ask the manager if he had any jobs available. I learned not to expect much so I was a bit surprised when on a Saturday morning the manager called me. One of the kitchen employees got sick and he asked me if I could come for the evening shift. I agreed with no hesitation. "You do know how to use dishwasher, right?" Of course I could - aunt Grazyna had one at her house. It was only when I was led into the kitchen when I realised the difference between industrial and home use equipment. There was a lot of steam, everyone in the kitchen spoke Thai, rice kept sticking to the plates. I was desperately trying to keep up with the piling plates. At some point one of the waiters step in to help me out so he could serve his customers. Finally the shift ended. The manager handed me some cash. He smiled and thanked me but I knew he would never call me back.

[Scrap #2] While working in front of the machine sweating I kept making calculations in my head. This was not a dream job but if I could say get five shifts per week with 4-6 hours per evening I would make around 150-200 dollars per week. That would total to about 1,000 per month if I was lucky so I should be able to make just enough to put aside about two and half thousand per semester for tuition then three fifty for room. It was not enough but it was something. The only other issue was that I knew right away I would hate this job. But if I soldered on maybe I could find some other location. Of course, my vision had been quickly abrupted. But there was something better waiting for me down the line. My mood had shifted. Of course I was still worried about the money was running short. But at least now I had a proof that it was worth something. Walking on the streets of that hot desert had started to resemble looking for water on Mars. But there was no way I was getting on a plane back home so I just kept walking.

[Scrap #3] The flags were still half mast and there were going to stay so for a few more weeks. For most of the people in the desert the trategy was unfolding on the screens of tv or in classrooms. There was a talk about a need for revenge. What a lot of people feared was the effect of the 9/11 attacks on the tourism. People put off their traveling plans which could heavily affect the desert so dependent on the visitors. Besides that life had been going on as usual. I was now fully focused on my classes. I would go to the International Office to send email updates from computer there. It was a place staffed with a few advisors and Carolynne, or really a second Mom who was always smiling and asked about how we felt. At the first week of classes I was approached by a Japanese guy. "So, Disneyland. You go?" he asked. It was clear that English was still something to work on but he was nice and as he went on explaining, he wanted to meet some 'non-Japanese' friends to practice his English. The trip to Disneyland never took place we decided to become friends.

[Scrap #4] It had quickly become clear that mine was not a normal household. Most new international students had been assigned to host families - American families who wanted to rent out a room to newcomers and help them transition into new lives. They were nice, would host a barbeque and ask questions about how we were. Byran was a different case. First of all, it was Kamil who arranged for me to live with him. He took an interest in you. Shortly after my arrival he took out a big atlas in which I were to mark the place where my city was. That's how Leszno became part of the diary. There were places from Bulgaria, Korea, Japan. He treated his tenants like roomates. He talked about them and wondered where they were now. He would also ask me what the natural resources of Poland were. As I would find out later, it was his standard question to any new comer. He was a Vietnam war veteran and with his long hair he looked like a proper hippy. He owned a proper Volkswagen xx (no seat belts) and it was always a joy to ride with him to the grocery store.

[Scrap #5] I loved my classes. People would come from different backgrounds and ages. And there were nice and relaxed. During one of the classes taught by Dr. Rios we sat down to talk about diversity. I said that it was obvious from my accent that I was foreign. "Oh, don't worry. We all have accent" responded one of the students. That was the thing about community colleges - some would just come here to finish a two year degree. Some, like me, wanted to transfer to university. And some would attend classes just to refresh their memory or learn something new. It was also relatively cheap for local residents. Unfortunately for international students it was much more expensive but it was still more affordable option than four year university. To get a bachelor's degree you had to earn in total one hundred and twenty units with each class giving you 3-4 units. Hence, the strategy for people like Kamil, or me, would be attend community college for first two years and then apply to transfer to a 'normal' university and continue education there. Opportunities were endless as long as you had good grades and, of course, enough money.

[Scrap #6] The miracles do happen. I was heading towards my Introduction to Arts class when when I received a phone call from Brenda, an owner of a Greek restaurant. I passed through her place a few days before and dropped my CV. She seemed nice and even said that she preferred hiring immigrants than 'lazy' locals but I was already used to keeping my enthusiasm down. She asked whether I had time to come back to her place preferably as soon as possible. Of course. She also asked me to bring sun glasses and a hat as the job will be mostly outside for now. And maybe a CD player. When I showed up an hour later she handed me a big arrow shaped sign with "Greek Food" letters written on it and dropped me off at the corner of Highway 111 and Magnesia Falls. The sign has also helium balloons attached to it. My new job was to stand at that corner and attract attention of the passing back drivers. It paid eight dollars per hour. Brenda promised me that once traffic started picking up I would be able to start my training to become a server and work inside.

[Scrap #7] With over thirty dollars in my pocket I headed straight to the college library. This, and the international office, was how I would stay in touch with my Leszno. I emailed Mom to share the good news. Yes, maybe it wasn't the dream job. With the sign hanging off my neck and the balloons it felt more like working at a theme park. The temperatures were still high. So high that the only way to keep the water in a bottle cool was to freeze it first and watch it slowly melt in the sun. There were no milk shakes after work. It was boring. But it was so much better than standing in the wet steam coming from a dishwasher. And I didn't get fired after first day. There was free food and unlimited amounts of lemonade. Being left alone meant no one would bother me. Akira's CD player came with one album - it started with a nice piano introduction followed by several high pitched and emotionally charged Japanese lyrics. I had already listened to it four times. With more and longer shifts on the horizon I already knew the first gift I was going to get for myself.

[Scrap #8] My first trip to the ocean was with Kamil and his friend just at the beginning of my stay there. We went to Hunington Beach where I tasted the Pacific ocean for the first time. With volleyball nets and palm trees around it looked just like at movies. The weird thing was that everyone seemed to be wearing beach shorts and there were no speedos around. It was just not acceptable. America, with its freedom, was also quite a prudent country. Although it was a perfect and memorable trip but I still somehow felt like a guess. Now I had a new friend, Akira, who bought a used white Honda Accords. The car was quite old but it had lights that would come up and down. We would hang out quite often and Akira was slowly becoming part of my household. He had lots of Japanese friends - they all seemed to be equipped with electronic dictionaries. They gave each other rides on cool bicycles. A few of them lived close to Byran's place. We would visit them, sit by the communal pool drinking beer or Dr. Pepper. I could finally start fully enjoying those balmy desert nights.

[Scrap #9] On a Sunday morning Akira and I were driving up the the Monterey Avenue towards Freeway 10. Soon we would turn west and pass a sign "Los Angeles 109 miles". We were going to see Brenda - one of the friends I made online before my arrival. I had promised her that I would come down to visit Santa Monica where she was attending a junior college. We parked near Third Street Promenade - a long shopping street. With a cool breeze coming from the ocean it seemed like a perfect morning. It looked just was one of the dream places I had spent so much time learning about. It had a wide sandy beach with houses lined up opposite the ocean, a pier with a small theme park and wheel on it. Just like in movies, it was a place with palm trees, bicycle lanes and the volleyball nets. But among them it was also difficult not to notice a homeless person lying on grass or sitting on a bench asking for a 'spare change'. This place seemed to perfectly represent some of the social imbalances I had already been learning about at Dr Rios' class.

[Scrap #10] We dropped Brenda at her home in Westwood. With sun going down it had become chilly. The leaves on the street were a reminder that autumn had arrived in the coast. Our drive continued. The UCLA campus was close by and I insisted that we had to at least pass through it. The place was so big it even had its own police. I couldn't take my eyes off the red brick buildings. How would I ever be able to afford to attend there? We drove around Beverly Hills with its huge mansions and behind huge bushes and drove towards Hollywood. It was getting dark so after a few attempts we gave up trying to find our way to the Hollywood sign. We walked along through the Avenue of Stars and the Chinese Theatre. Hollywood was not that impressive - just a bunch of shops hidden behind aluminum shutters. We sat at a diner drinking coffee at one of the booths. The invasion on Afghanistan had began a few hours earlier. This was my first road trip with Akira. I asked him for a cigarette. It was a moment to celebrate. That was what living one's dream felt like.