Sky: Bulletproof Soul

Flying High

Looking up at the sky, the setting sun was giving off a beautiful hue of orange, red, and yellow. The Tipaza lighthouse was mesmerizing at this hour. It stood tall on the harbor, watching over the Mediterranean Sea.

Lifting my gaze, I take in a deep breath, smiling ear to ear. Reaching my hands up to the heavens, I dance around, shouting happily. The universe had finally granted me my greatest wish. In a few short hours, I would be on a plane to Los Angeles.

My desire to go to LA might be new, but my desire to get away was not. While I was born and raised in Algiers, Algeria, my heritage is not Algerian alone. In her youth, my Algerian mother had the opportunity to travel through Japan on a 'Food Tour', experiencing all the popular food stands available. Her trip scarcely lasted three weeks, beginning in Sapporo and ending in Osaka, the heart of food stands.

Once in Osaka, my mother found her way to Dotonbori district. She was always looking for the quaint little hidden food shops that were the local treasures. While walking the busy street on her first day in Osaka, she tried as many different dishes she could, especially since the Osaka motto is "Eat Until You Drop." And that was what she planned to do.

Walking down a narrow street, eating a tray of takoyaki, she heard whispered rumors of a noodle shop, buried in the heart of Osaka. The shop was called Dotonbori Imai Imaihonten; and they were known for their Kitsune Udon.

My mother found the shop on her third day visiting Osaka. She loved noodles and Kitsune Udon was at the top of her list. Once there, she grabbed a solo seat and ordered the Kitsune Udon. The young man that brought her order was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She returned to the shop every single day for the rest of her trip, just to see him. On her last day, she finally had the courage to talk to him.

She gave him her information and expressed how she felt before leaving back for Algeria. She never wanted to leave. She wanted to stay. She wanted to get to know him.

* * *

The wind brushed lightly through my hair and I felt the goosebumps sweep across my body. My heart raced from the excitement of starting a new adventure, all on my own, just as my mother did. But unlike her, I'm not coming back so quickly.

I take out the last letter my American friend had sent me and look over her words carefully:

            Hello my dear Sorah,

            I am very excited to hear that you are coming to LA. I hope that we can have all the time                in the world to spend together. Be sure that your passport is up-to-date and you bring                  lots of money! There are a lot of shopping centers here. You can find just about anything              in LA.

            Oh! And maybe you should consider attending school here, too! I'll talk to you soon!!

                                                                                                                                                        Your Best Bud,

Leanna H.

I tuck the letter away safely in my backpack. I knew she didn't offer up her home to me, but luckily I had an uncle that lived nearby who agreed to let me stay for a while. I look around, grab my bags and head for the road to flag down a taxi. The car ride would be about an hour to the Houari Boumediene Airport. Hopefully the traffic will be on my side tonight.

* * *

Sitting at my gate, I stare out the large windows, waiting patiently for my turn to board the plane. There were so many foreigners, typically Americans, who had traveled throughout the Northern regions of Africa. Most likely to Egypt and Morocco, but they had to pass through Libya and Algeria to do so.