American

by Blas Eduardo Araneda Varas (Argentina)

I didn't expect to find USA

The slogan of an Argentinean telephone company said that every person is a world. The success of that campaign was due to the strength of its message, relatable to every aspect of life. It also works when arranging a trip: there exist different destinations, thousands of airlines, millions of passengers looking like tiny worlds. Some people prefer to arrange everything, some others don’t but get surprised by the unexpected though. I identify with these last ones. In 2015 I flew to the United States to visit my best friend. We agreed to meet on August 15th at McCarran Int’l Airport in Las Vegas. I was nervous. But, anxiety took a second-place when I saw through the window it was the sun rising in Nevada. The emotion was indescribable for I was living my own American dream. As the plane started to descend I recognized Las Vegas Strip. It looked like a small mockup with the Luxor Hotel at one end and the Stratosphere hotel right on the opposite extreme. My friend Dustin waited at the parking lot. We embraced and he took me immediately for sightseeing. Dustin wasn’t a city rat like me. I never realized I was traversing a city in the middle of a desert with 123 ºF by noon. My face reflected astonishment as we were reaching to downtown. If every person is a single world, the same happened with hotels there: the Mirage, Venetian, Caesar’s Palace, Bellagio, Arya, Encore and the list continued. All looked fabulous, excepting my friend’s face. He was tired. He went to rest and I kept on walking. The city was like a theme park. I was breathless when I saw the Bellagio Fountains featuring DJ Tiësto music. Perfection really existed! I remember the following days tasting American breakfasts: waffles with butter and maple syrup, and visiting Hoover Dam, a big hydroelectric station built during the Great Depression over the Colorado River to provide electrical power to the state. The dam presented details made in the art deco. Today is a national monument. Finally, I invited Dustin to have some screwdrivers at the bar of the Cosmopolitan Hotel. The best money spent! When we left Vegas, Dustin told me we were heading to Arizona. I had no idea where we were going to. For about three hours the only landscape I saw was desert. It looked like being inside HBO’s WestWorld, expecting to witness those hills existing on Monument Valley. We passed from dry scenery to green flatlands and mountains. We stopped for a while to see the main characters: herds of buffalos. As soon as we arrived at the Grand Canyon North Rim Lodges to spend the night. Dustin said: “I wanna show you something”. He led me blindfolded to a viewpoint, then he said: “Uncover your eyes” There it was, God’s masterpiece: The Grand Canyon. I cried. Dustin smiled and said: “I cried too the first time I was here”. The last stop was Salt Lake City. The place was a charming town, surrounded by Wasatch Mountains and national parks like Zion and Arches. My friend lived in The Upper Avenues, suburban neighborhoods with a privileged view of the downtown where the main landmark was located: the City Temple, headquarters of the Mormon Church of the Latter Day. Dustin was the best host ever. We played baseball. We did rafting. He got me some frozen yogurt and showed me his best spot in town facing the Capitol Building illuminated at night. He drove me to Park City where the Sundance Film Festival is held and pointed at a slope to show me a deer. He grabbed my hand and we stayed there, in silence for a while. The last day when he took me to the airport, he didn’t talk. I felt a lump in my throat. I wanted to stay with him. He turned the volume on the radio as Lana Del Rey seemed she was saying goodbye on his behalf. I’ve listened to that song, “American”, millions of times ever since thinking we were gonna be together once again, but that time it will be driving alongside the west coast in Mulholland Drive, California. Isn’t it, Dustin?