Freeze Dried Space Ice Cream

"Amazingly, the ice cream sandwich looks and tastes like the original. As you eat the sandwich, your mouth rehydrates the ice cream, restoring it to its original state."

NOT. From the Atomic Testing Museum, one of the most interesting museums I've been in a while. Adam, you'll love it. The museum will speak to anyone who grew up during the Cold War. Now I'm thinking of giving my extra pack either as a prize, or as a moving away present.

America, Please Explain

There are certain things in life that I take for granted, things that I grew up with, and things that make sense in context of the environment in which I live in. When I moved to Germany, things were, of course, different. So I reverted into a three year old and incessantly asked--why?

Now the things that I have seen here and the things I want to ask of you, my American readers, are specific to the West Coast/Vegas. Now I ask, why?

--are there so many freeways here? Seriously, highway built upon highway. And more highways, even to just get to the next town. Manila has them out of necessity. I have seen exactly one flyover in Germany, and that is in Berlin.

--are you so wasteful on gas and drive everywhere? Even in San Francisco, which has good public transport infrastructure? It's the reason why everybody is so obese. They all eat normally here, but exercise less, and spend so much time in their cars, driving around. I swear, the traffic in LA is not normal for the size of their freeways. In Germany, that kind of traffic only happens there in the Ruhrgebeit and the Main area, or during holidays.

--do you hate vegetables?

--are your cities so spread out? The suburbs here are so far from the center, and the government doesn't even bother building a public transportation network.

--would you drive around for thirty minutes to find a parking spot near the door/establishment? Don't you think that's a waste in gas?

--is In N Out the best burger in town? It is just a burger. Definitely better than what passes for hamburgers in Germany, though. But In N Out fries rock.

--are your cars so huge?

--do you watch TV all the time? Don't you guys have a life?

My comments section is open!

Welcome to the US, Bitch

Note: If you haven't seen the show The O.C., you wouldn't get the reference.

It was a verrry long flight to the US, an hour longer than the one to the Philippines from Germany. It was pretty uneventful for the most part. For now I am enjoying discovering Amerika. You see, the US is the most idolized and fetishized country where I come from, and separating fact from the hype is proving to be an educational experience.

Well, the trip hasn't been entirely uneventful. First of all, I will never fly domestic via U.S. Air ever again. I can't believe that the Charlotte Airport doesn't have automatic baggage forwarding. Second, my first ever encounter with US Immigration Authorities in Charlotte, North Carolina, proved to be quite interesting.

While waiting in line, the "Welcome to America" video played on loop in the airport. I feel that the content is meant to strike fear or at least insecurity into the hearts of men. Is my chocolate roll allowed to pass through? My camera? Do I have my passport? My e-ticket?

Then it was my turn. The man behind the counter was friendly, and asked me several questions, where was I from, why did I have an American accent, why didn't I sound Filipino. All very relevant. He seemed to know a good deal about the Philippines.

Then he looked intently at the computer screen and said. "Well, we have a slight hitch here. You have a name similar to someone who doesn"t like the United States. A lot."

Uh-oh. "Really? Oh wow. Drug-related?"

"Well, let"s just say that the person is a part of a terrorist group, like the Abu Sayyaf."

"That can't be, they're Muslim. I have a Hispanic-sounding name."

"I said like the Abu Sayyaf." A great furrowing of brows. "The State Department should have informed us of this."

"Well, it must be the FARC then."

More typing. "Look, I"m pretty sure you're not this person. But I still have to alert my supervisor about this. I can't make this call." He gave me a card with the number 1 written on it, and put all my documents in a plastic folder. "The problem is that you have a new passport (issued March 2009) and your visa is also new." A great stamping of documents. "We'll give you your luggage when we're done." Then he seemed to have a change of heart and said," You know what, why don't we already pick up your luggage, then we'll lead you to questioning."

A uniformed officer picked me up from the booth and led me to the carousel to pick up my luggage, then led me to a room full of other sad, nervous, or pissed-off looking people. I am pretty sure that no-one was looking, but it was still mortifying doing the "Walk of Shame" with a baby carriage, my luggage, and a uniformed officer beside me. Ohmigod, please don"t let the others think that I am a mule, I thought, thinking of the movie Maria Full of Grace.

I was called out, an this time a dour-looking man faced me and asked sternly. "From which country did you fly?" " Where was your passport issued?" " Can you give me your birthdate, please?" "Do you have a return flight?" "Show me your ticket please."

Bleary from the 9-hour flight and jet lag, I answered in short sentences, monosyllabic if possible. Seemingly satisfied with my answers, he handed back my documents and said, "The door is over there."

And onwards to freedom.

I want to make clear that I bear no ill will to the US Government and know that they are just doing their jobs, and this is all just a case of miscommunication. I saw that the first gentleman felt badly about sending me to his unsmiling supervisor, and really tried to expedite my processing and minimize my inconvenience. I also know that the US State Department did their job thoroughly. They even pulled out my old Petition to Immigrate from 1987, the reason why my parents are now in the US.

But still, nothing says welcome to the US than being escorted by a uniformed officer into a room. Welcome to the US, bitch.