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Chicago calling

In Chicago, one can experience the essence of American life

PICTURESQUE Glimpses of a Chicago street

It was for the first time that I got an opportunity to fly across the sub-continent, over the clouds, mountains and oceans to Chicago in the Big Sky country. When Chicago hibernates in winter, I thought it was the best ever time to travel, watch the bare elm trees and the evergreen conical spruce against a purple sky, serial lights wound around trees and lamp posts, balloon Santas dancing with the flow of the windy city that it is.

I got my first feel of the cold outside the O'Hare International Airport. The person receiving me was thoughtful enough to get me a winter coat, gloves and hood. It had begun snowing the day after I landed in December last year. It was a mild drizzle effortlessly falling on leaves and grass like a shower of tiny flowers. There was a white carpet the next morning, covering everything. A lone truck whizzed past Fair Elms Avenue where I stayed in the Village of Western Springs, in suburban Chicago, clearing the snow and spreading salt to prevent it from sticking to the road.

At first, I quietly submitted to remaining indoors and be shepherded to shopping malls, grocery stores, the Aurora Venkatachalapathy and Le Monte Sri Rama temples, listening to the others who said that coming from Chennai, the cold in Chicago might affect me. But a week later, a holiday was announced for schools as heavy snow was predicted. A child in the neighbourhood darted out in a thick pink jacket, gloves, cap and shoes, its tiny footprints on the snow. She quickly made a snowman and ran back home. This inspired me to set out, come what may.

That very afternoon, I began my hour-long walks, drinking in the sights and sounds as I took a breath of fresh air. Walking is not the done thing in Chicago winter, I was told. All exercising happens at gyms or indoors. However, I would bump into one or two die-hard joggers through the five-mile route, who would wave out with a `Hi there.' My greatest recreation was to walk along roads paved on either side with snow.

Essence of American life

I experienced the essence of American life as I walked in the Western Springs park, watching children slide down the snowy slope, as the orange orb of the sun set behind the elms at 4.30 p.m.

I did have my time out for two days when I took the Metra train to the Union Station, got a glimpse of the Chicago River flowing quietly beneath the bridge and hailed a cab to the Field Museum. It was another five-hour walk inside through the ancient world of dinosaurs, the remains of Pompeii, gaze at the powerful statue of Amida Buddha in the Japanese section, the Mandala Yantra in the Tibetan wing and the model Pawnee village in the American Indian section.

At the Corner Bakery, I managed to get across my preference for vegetarian food. It didn't matter that I spoke English. It needed the American twang to make myself understood. I filled myself with a California grill sandwich and tomato basil soup. Driving on the inter-states, bridges and roads, the skyline of North Chicago transported me to Chennai's Second-Line Beach Road.

Going up 103 floors on the elevator in the Sears Tower in just a minute, I found myself amid the clouds. With zero visibility outside due to snowfall, I had to be content with browsing through the history of Chicago, the great writers and singers who lived there, on the display boards.

My walking continued through Michigan, La Salle and other avenues around the Sears Tower. It was impressive to see women on the job managing chaotic traffic at intersections, issuing tickets for violation or driving trucks with aplomb. I spent some quiet moments within the grand dome of the Baha'i House of Worship. Designed by French-Canadian architect Louis Bourgeois, the bell-shaped temple has inscriptions of insignia from world religions.

And when it was time to return, I had quite a few memorable moments and photographs to cherish. Swahilya

SWAHILYA

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