An American Odyssey

Following my evacuation from Argentina, I crashed on my high school friends' couch in North Carolina. However, the abrupt move was not all sunshines and rainbows. My heart still lay heavy over having to say goodbye to all those that I met in Argentina.

They consisted of a motley crew of Porteñas (women from Buenos Aires) and Venezuelan refugees. When my study abroad program disbanded due to the pandemic, it was this group that kept me informed, and most importantly, sane. When April came around and the news came that the airport was about to close, they all swarmed my apartment like an elite rapid response team. They helped me pack, fill out governmental paperwork and mourn my sudden departure.

As I settled into living in North Carolina in May, a large wave of depression overcame me. What probably made it worse was my decision not to return home to my dad out of fear that I was a carrier of the virus and that I might infect him due to my international travels. Nevertheless, I was back in the United States just as the first wave of Corona was tearing the nation apart.

The two friends I lived with are both essential workers; Jordan works at a Walmart and Sherman is a general manager of a pizza shop, so most of my time in the apartment was spent without humans. The only solace I had was Peanut, my friend’s beautiful and patient mutt that would rescue me from my somber thoughts.

Walking Peanut was the reason I got up in the morning and overall, the reason I ever left my friends’ apartment at all. She didn’t play well with other dogs in the dog park that was conveniently located in the apartment complex, but she loved every human that she saw. Most importantly, she loved me and I loved her back. I don’t know what I would have done without Peanut in my life during that difficult time.

Watching the news was the worst thing I could have done for my mental health, but at the time, I really wanted to know what was going on in the world. I read horror stories of bodies in the streets in Latin America and police violence in the United States. At first the violence was all abstract and seen through a screen, but by May, the violence became very real.

During one of my walks near my friends’ apartment, I witnessed an act of mindless arson on a random parked vehicle. The cops showed up, but kept their distance as a crowd of people stood around the car and shouted “fuck the police.” It took a few minutes before the firefighters came to finally douse the flames that danced on the corpse of the sedan. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help, but watch in shock and confusion. What did burning a random car accomplish? That was the question I asked myself as I walked home in the dark.

While my sudden arrangement to move to North Carolina was by chance, my friends actually had a road trip to the Grand Canyon already planned for the week of the Fourth of July. I didn’t plan on going on the trip initially, but given that it was mainly driving and going to a national park, it seemed like a safe trip in the time of Corona. Overall, I decided that it would be a final trip before returning home to my dad. I knew that the trip would be long and arduous, but what I didn’t know was that this odyssey would change my life forever.

The trip was supposed to last about a week with minimal stopping so we could drive to the Grand Canyon and reserve maximum time for hiking the trails there. The last stop was Las Vegas, where we would catch a flight to get back to Charlotte, North Carolina. My friends and I decided the stops and our trip route ended up looking like this:

The packing for our trip was haphazard, but luckily I had gear with me that I used when I was hiking in Patagonia several months earlier. Of the five of us that would be going, two were flying down from NY: Stephen and Mahlon. Stephen was an Eagle Scout, so he really helped us get our butts in gear when it came to prepping for the trip.

The day arrived when we would finally depart for the Canyon, the night of June 26th. We picked up our rented minivan and hit the road. I volunteered to take the first 8 hour shift as I prefer to avoid driving through any heavy traffic. At the end of my shift I settled in one of the backseats and attempted to sleep, no dice. This would be one of many sleepless nights that would drive me to the brink of insanity during the trip.

Thankfully, our first major stop was Hot Springs, Arkansas National Park. Even during the pandemic, this national attraction of therapeutic spas was still open. We arrived early, but had to wait in line. Nevertheless, the charming little town had plenty of diners to choose from while we waited our turn in one of the bathhouses. Luckily, the second we got admitted into the bathhouse, the dark and heavy clouds decided to let down from the heavens a massive storm that washed away the visitor’s sign. The humidity was also oppressive, but that didn’t bother us in the Quapaw Bathhouse. We were in heaven.

The drive through Oklahoma was boring, but once we arrived in the outskirts of Albuquerque, it was a sight to behold. The light bounced off the cacti and the mountains stared us down in the distance. The warm dry heat warmed our skin as we took a small hike in the valley.

The next major stop was Jerome, Arizona, a ghost town that Stephen one day wants to live in. The history behind it is that it once was a copper mining town with 15,000 people, but once the mine shut down, the population collapsed to 700. Despite the small population, tourism is a boon there and I would recommend checking out the visitor center and watching the mini-documentary about the town. It’s definitely the best mini-documentary that I have ever seen!

And lastly, we arrived at the Grand Canyon the following day. The Grand Canyon National Park was a human oasis in the dry, barren, yet beautiful landscape of western Arizona. Unfortunately, due to COVID, we were unable to camp in the Canyon, but we embarked on an all day hike that ended after nightfall.

The next and final stop was Las Vegas airport, but we decided to arrive two days early to have the true Las Vegas experience. We booked a hotel room at The Strat, which was the cheapest resort and casino in the city. From the outside it looked very upscale and accommodating, but once we got inside, it felt like hell on earth.

At The Strat, people had forgotten that a pandemic was going on. Mask wearing was basically optional, social distancing non-existent, and all the gambling tables were open to full capacity. Rather than just fleeing the scene, I regrettably decided, the first night, to have a few drinks and hit the tables. I won most of my games, but nothing to brag about especially since I should have avoided the tables all together to avoid spreading the infection.

Well, my time in Las Vegas was short lived, and I am thankful for that. While there for the two days I barely slept more than two hours due to noisiness of our hotel floor and my growing discomfort with the decision to stay for so long in a Coronavirus hotspot. After all, I was to go home to my father soon after the trip and I definitely did not want to give him the virus.

Our flight came and I got home, but my sleep issue persisted. A few sleepless days later, I checked myself into the hospital for help and the doctor gave me a shot of the worst medicine I ever had in my life. The side effects made me manic and paranoid, but tragically it did not help my sleep disorder. Two days later I returned and got a better medicine that permitted me to sleep.

Now, I’m feeling better and living with my dad back in Hudson, NY. It is a weird feeling being back as all the stores and venues that I once enjoyed are closed and I’m struggling to find full employment now that I am a college graduate. Nevertheless, I am so thankful for this American Odyssey as it permitted me to see many parts of the country and how we all come together to form a more perfect union. I know for a fact that this horrific pandemic will one day be encapsulated in songs and stories, like this one, as a piece of history rather than being an aspect of everyday life. We will endure and build a better tomorrow, together.