Twelve and Counting

 It seems like it was yesterday. I got off the plane on a cold morning in February, 12 years ago. February is the hottest month of the summer in Peru, at least in Lima, where I was born. It seemed so surreal to feel cold then at the airport in New Jersey and later that evening in my husband's mini car that made me feel like I was inside the freezer! It was -5 degrees Celsius! I had never experienced that kind of cold in my life! And as I was sitting there in the car, feeling the cold right to my bones and shivering, I wondered in what kind of trouble I had gotten myself into and if I was going to be able to endure this kind of weather for the long run…

Here I was, newlywed, arriving to a new Country to start a new life. Leaving behind family and friends; my Church, my work (which were the same since I was an Associate Pastor there), failures and accomplishments...many memories. New language, new customs, new culture… It was a lot to take at the same time. But God was with me. I just reminded myself “He is with me”, talked to Him a little, and everything was all right again.

As soon as we were in the airport after my immigration papers were in order and they asked me what was the official name I wanted to use in the USA I replied “Alicia Gentile”; we left. My mom, who traveled with me, went with my brother and his wife home and I went home with my husband Vic. Home for us at this early stage of our marriage was an apartment hotel in Connecticut, almost 2 hours away from the airport! This trip showed me how big the distances are here and how I would dread these long car drives that I was not used to make. Back in Lima, I used to live in a suburb called Miraflores, and I also worked there and did everything else there, so the largest time I normally was in a car was 20 minutes at the most.  And in the summer, if I wanted to get to my favorite beach, it was just a 40 minutes drive. So at least for the first 6 months living in the US, it felt like live was passing me by while in the car, the drives seemed that long.

The mini apartment was very comfortable, full equipped and I could even cook in the little kitchen that we had. Vic had to go to work, so I stayed there getting used to my new environment though we didn’t stay there for long, one week if I remember correctly. We were there only because the apartment that Vic was going to rent for us was taken by someone else at the last minute before he traveled to Lima to marry me, even though he had a deal already. Now, finding an apartment that is accessible for a wheelchair is not an easy task anywhere, but in New York’s suburbs, where Vic worked, it was really tough! The reason why is because most of the constructions are old and not up to date with new regulations that facilitates access to a wheelchair. The interesting thing was that there were several apartments listed as wheelchair accessible, and they were, all the rooms and doorways except for one, which one do you think? The bathroom! What were these people thinking? In some of them Vic would walk in the apartment they were showing him and pass the realtor by on his way to the bathroom just to measure the doorway because if that was not right, it was the big “show stopper” no matter how beautiful and roomy the rest of the apartment was, it was no good for us.

That is how we got to this apartment hotel.

The story will continue on my next blog.