Episode 4: Cape Cod and a Baby

Daria’s method of getting us over jet-lag worked perfectly. We were both tired the next night, and ready to turn in before she even suggested it. We knew we needed to get good rest, because the next day it was time for our first trip on American soil: Daria was taking us to Cape Cod to one of her friends’ house. We would spend a couple of days with her friend Anca, Anca’s infant Chris, and Anca’s parents. I was very excited, having heard of Cape Cod only in movies (this is not different from most other American destinations, seeing that I had never been to America before), and believing it to be a retreat for the rich. This perception of mine has not changed over the years, even though now I recognize that there are several layers of “rich” one can achieve here. Still, in my eyes “rich” is “rich.”

We drove for several hours, never endingly it seemed to me (still nauseous every time I got into her car, an effect of jet-lag and my life-long motion sickness), and we finally got to Anca’s house. It was so beautiful, it took my breath away. The house had two floors, with an open first floor, large living room windows overlooking a big lake in the back, and a back porch with a hammock and an outdoor brick oven. I couldn’t take my eyes off the lake – its surface shimmering with the sunlight as if the water was continuously caressing a hidden treasure. Water has always been my favorite “environment” let’s call it, so I was excited to go on the dock (they had their own dock! And motor boat!) and let my feet dangle in the water.

I walked upstairs to put down my bag. Opening the door to my designed room, I was greeted by the smell of pine wood and fresh linen. The clean, simple comforters on the bed invited me in, especially since I still wasn’t feeling like I was getting quite enough sleep. The windows let in the cool wind and the melodious chirrup of the birds. Was I getting into a somewhat poetic mood? Maybe… but I didn’t mind.

I changed into my swim suit and went downstairs, where Anca’s parents were waiting to take us TUBING!

– Um… what exactly is “tubing?”

They explained that tubes are giant lifesaver shaped rubber… well… tubes, that you sit on and which are dragged by the motor boat. They made tubing sound like a lot of fun, and even though I got a very vivid visual of me tumbling head first into the water (which would not be soft and easy at that speed), I bravely said:

– That sounds amazing! What are we waiting for? Let’s do it.

Bianca was also game, so we each sat on a tube and let ourselves carried away. I was getting more and more excited, loving the speed, the adrenaline rush through my body, and the feeling that I was doing something risky and my parents weren’t there to caution me against it.
However, a look at Bianca showed me that not everyone felt the same way I did about tubing. She was terrified. So much so, in fact, that she couldn’t get herself to lift one hand to her throat and cut across it in the move that would signify “STOP.” She was holding on for dear life, and it was all she could do to yell (very softly) to me:

– Tell them to stop!

So I did. She went onto the boat, and Anca’s father assumed I would, too. I wasn’t done, though, so I went back, and after one more trip around the lake I started giving him the thumbs up, which meant “Faster.” He was surprised, and then grew determined to throw me off – I could tell from his sudden turns and other boat maneuvers he hadn’t done before. Eventually it worked, and I did fall into the water, almost losing the bottom of my bathing suit in the process (I can’t imagine how I would have felt, climbing into his boat in a life vest and… not much else). It was an experience I will never forget, and I could tell I gained his respect for the remainder of the trip.

That night we made s’mores, an American snack I had never heard before. You take a marshmallow, pierce it with a stick and roast it over fire (we used the outdoor brick over on the porch for that, sitting around it and warming ourselves in the orange glow). Then you put it on a cracker and a piece of chocolate, add another cracker on top, and there you have your s’more. Yes folks, it is a sandwich of pure sugar and chocolate, but by Gosh, it is tasty! So I enjoyed s’mores by the fire, entertained by the stories told, in turn, by the others. Then I sat in the hammock with Chris in my arms, his eyes large, staring at the night sky until he fell asleep. Anca said he was never this quiet, so it was there and then that I earned my nickname of “baby whisperer.” The day was so perfect and so relaxing, I have been hoping to get a similar experience ever since. I will never forget our one, and so far only, visit to the Cape Cod, and it definitely made for a perfect introduction to the US.

The next day we headed back to Boston – in another day we were both due on our respective campuses.