Buffalo Stance

There are three places in the world where I get that sentimental rush which goes with 'coming home': knowing that the minute you set foot on the ground that everything will be fine and that you don't have to try to be anything more than just who you are. In Japanese, such places are called one's 'furusato' or hometown. I'm lucky to have three. One of these places is, of course, New Zealand. A second is Fukuyama in Hiroshima prefecture, the place where I met DH and where we visit once a year to catch up with family and friends who knew me before I became somebody's mother. This is the closest I have to a Japanese 'furusato'. The third is Buffalo, NY and I didn't know it was number three until we arrived a few days ago on our trip. But now I know for sure that I can count it in.

Buffalo has snow from Halloween to Easter and yes, you get mighty sick of the weather mighty quickly. But it also has beautiful summers and autumns and people with a great sense of humour--after all, you need a sense of humour if you're going to make it in Buffalo! If it isn't jokes about "HOW many times did they lose the NFL Superbowl again?", then it will be old-timers recalling the Big Blizzard of such and such a year (and you aren't a true native if you weren't there). Everyone knows that the infamous OJ Simpson resided in Buffalo for a part of his career, and the guy who blew up the Fred J. Murrah building in Oklahoma was from the region, too. One US friend, not a Buffalonian for obvious reasons, once decribed the place as, "The armpit of the nation." Well, everyone needs their armpits!

Buffalo is the place where I first became a mum and where I found that even if life threw me a curve ball, then I could catch the ball and go with it. Three years in Western NY was never on my agenda (neither were three kids!), and I arrived in early 1991 as a heavily pregnant 'trailing spouse', miserable about giving up my promising career in publishing and my happy life in Tokyo. But by the time we left, I'd made made many wonderful friends, found my feet as a parent of two little kids, travelled extensively, gained a graduate degree in three semesters and rediscovered myself in many ways. Not bad going.

Our 'sentimental journey' back to Buffalo didn't get off to an auspicious start: Instead of messing around with train connections and all our luggage, I ordered a taxi from the Marriott in Secaucus, NJ to take us to Penn Station in NY city. I was told "30 to 40 minutes" to get there, so allowed 90 minutes all up. We left in good time by 9.45, but the traffic was a little heavier than usual, and our amiable taxi driver tried to make up time and got caught by the police for stopping by a pedestian crossing! The unsympathetic policeman was not interested in the fact that we had a train to catch, and that we were now even further behind schedule than ever. I felt bad for the driver, a personable elderly guy who drove carefully and who was five times better than those yellowcabbies who drove at breakneck speed, seemingly intent on having an accident. Then he made some wrong turns near the station and we finally arrived at 10.12 for our 10.20 departure. With the kids and the luggage, that was too close for comfort in my book. We rushed in to find--Empire Service to Buffalo delayed! I heaved a sigh of relief and then again felt guilty over the taxi driver's ticket. But who knew?!

The Amtrak train ended leaving Penn station over an hour late, and like all the other folks waiting round, we were constantly checking the board for updates. None came until it was just about to leave--no reasons given for the delay! This isn't Tokyo. Once we were on board, things went smoothly and we enjoyed the NY state scenery and passig through some of the familiar stations (and some I'd never heard of in my life). It wasn't the bullet train but it was fun! We arrived at the Depew Depot just after 7, then had to taxi on over to the nearby Buffalo airport to get our Hertz rental car.

Driving on the right again after nine years--help! "Here's your car!" said the dispatch guy cheerfully as he sent us on our way. It was Mr. 13 who helped me locate the lights, handbrake and various other necessary parts of the car. A few laps of the parking lot, with right turns only to start with, were neccessary before I felt confident enough to hit the highway. Thank goodness for the Neverlost navigation system--what a godsend it was this trip!

Our 'home' for the three days in Buffalo was the Hampton Inn in the Village of Williamsville, just minutes from our old townhouse. Ironically, this hotel was the most expensvie of our trip, since I couldn't find anything in the area where I could use any of DH's miles. We had a suite, with a king bed for the kids in the bedroom, and me 'roughing it' in on the sleeper sofa in the living area--blissfully alone once the kids were in bed!

Williamsville and the ajacent town of Amherst, my main stimping ground when we lived in the area, have not changed much.