« The United States Trip | Main | Chicago: Green Zebra »
May 22, 2008
Chicago: Part One
Chicago
Given my previous apprehensions about returning to the United States, it was fitting that we got our first taste of just what I was talking about before we even left Mexico.
To get to Chicago from Guadalajara, we had to go through Mexico City. Getting from Guadalajara to Mexico City was uneventful enough. We took off, we were in the air for about 50 minutes, we landed and we walked for what seemed like 5 miles to get from our domestic arrival gate to our international departure gate. We waited for the announced boarding time, and at about five minutes before, the doors to the jet bridge opened and out marched a small army of private security personnel, each armed with a folding table and pair of rubber gloves. In near-perfect synchronization they set up the tables and donned the gloves, while an airline employee rigged the nylon-belted posts around them to restrict entry to one central point.
Shawn and I were confused, since we'd not left the secured area of the airport while switching planes, and we'd already had to go through an additional x-ray of our bags when we crossed from the national terminal to the international one. The gate attendant made the call for the boarding of the flight and people started lining up. We were about to have our carry-on baggage inspected for a third time.
Shawn and I couldn't believe it, and we were discussing amongst ourselves what the possible cause could be for having to go through this yet another time. None of the other passengers boarding flights in our area - one to Frankfurt, another to Buenos Aires - had been subjected to this special treatment. We were trying to figure out why we were so lucky when a voice behind us spoke up in English.
"It's because we're flying into the United States," he explained. "The US requires an extra security check for foreign flights going into the country now."
"What?" I asked. "We've already been through two other checks already, one just 500 meters back. Is this some new thing? We haven't flown into the US for a little over a year, but they didn't make us do this last time."
"Yeah, it's getting worse there every day," he said.
They also made us throw away any bottled water we had before boarding the plane.
We landed at around 1 am at O'Hare airport in Chicago. Clearing immigration and customs was a breeze, and then we got to spend the next four and a half hours in the airport, waiting until the shuttle service started running so we could get downtown and drop off our bags at our hotel.
At the airport, there were two places open. One had such American delights as veggie burgers, onion rings and root beer, all things we can get in Guadalajara but they're hard to find and expensive. Well, scratch that. They cost about as much after being specially trucked in to Mexico as they do here, what with the relatively high prices here.
The other place advertised having drinks like espresso and latte, but it turns out they only offer brewed coffee at night. One has to wait until 6 am to get expresso or latte. They also had a range of nine different sandwiches, including stuff it seemed strange to advertise the way they did, like "corned beef on white." One of these sandwiches was a veggie wrap, and it was the only item of the nine offered that one couldn't get between 10 pm and 6 am, continuing the idea that seems to be a worldwide misconception: vegetarians do not eat after sundown.
It was also the first example reinforcing one of the recurring themes we always notice about the United States when we arrive: it's the land of nitpicky little rules. No loitering. No skateboarding. No smoking within 50 feet of the entrance. No bills bigger than $20. No music past 9 o'clock. No food or drink. No substitutions. No minors. No shirt. No shoes. No service.
Eventually we were able to get a shuttle from the airport to hotel, but since we had nine hours to go before we could actually check in, we left our bags and went out to kill some time in the city. We went first to the Tempo Café (6 E. Chestnut Street), a 24-hour diner-style place with excellent food where we got omelettes. We went to get more coffee at a Starbucks, then did some browsing and buying at a Border's.
We took a cab to Chinatown, where Shawn took a few pictures and we went to a Vietnamese restaurant for some spring rolls. They normally had meat in them, but they were happy to make them vegetarian on our request. The only problem being that, when they arived, they were nothing but lettuce and a sprig of cilantro rolled up in a sheet of rice wrapper. It was still only noon, and we had three hours to kill, but I was starting to hallucinate from being up so long. We walked to the train and took it downtown, where we walked a few blocks and stopped at another Starbucks for more coffee and to pass another hour.
We were really dragging on the walk back to the hotel. We crossed Michigan Avenue, and what seemed to be a couple of blocks that took us about 10 minutes to travel when we were going in the other direction in the morning, seemed to be several miles that took forever to traverse in the afternoon. At last we arrived at the W Chicago - Lakeshore and checked in. We had made a special request on our reservation - that they secure a copy of the Wallpaper City Guide for Chicago in advance and give it to us at check-in. Sure enough, they'd done it.
We took a nap and showered before going down to dinner, where we were reminded of one of the things we miss about the United States while living in Mexico: the great diversity of great ethnic foods available here. At the Mediterranean-style restaurant in the hotel, they are running a special series of dishes from various Asian regions. We had a vegetarian pinkabet, a dish popular in the Philippines, and ordered some smaller plates: spanikopita, hummus and mixed olives. I got a couple of Manhattans, made with Maker's Mark, a label we just can't get in Mexico, where the only non-Scotch whiskies places ever seem to have are Jack Daniels and Jim Beam. I'm not sure which was more intoxicating, the bourbon or the vast selection made possible by American-style capitalism.
Still reeling from the conflict of the love-hate relationship I have with the land of my birth, I retired to a matress that was 10 times softer than any I've ever had a Mexican hotel, paying 10 times more than I would for a hotel room there. I switched on The Daily Show, where the brilliant Jon Stewart was somehow able to make me laugh my ass off over Americans talking about how they won't vote for Barak Obama because he's not white, because they have somehow been convinced that he is a Muslim, and because he's "Hussein."
One day down. Sixty more to go.
Posted by crispy at May 22, 2008 11:59 PM
Comments
Just wait until you review your receipts, I got charged a $.50 'sit in' tax at McDeath the other day. Talk about kick in the teeth.
Posted by: Akira at May 27, 2008 11:49 AM