Making It Home...

The quickest way to make a house your home is to cook a meal in it.

As a Michigander, I'm familiar with Meijer or Kroger, so I am a little nervous when I grab a shopping cart and enter my first "Giant Food" supermarket. But I am also determined to make this new state my home, so I go about gathering my groceries as if this store has always been part of my routine. Crossing off the ingredients on my list, I feel more confident of new adventures in Maryland with each stroke of my pen.

Tomatoes...check.
Green peppers...check.
Mushrooms...check.
Onions...check.
Tomato sauce...check.
Pizza dough...check.

I steer my cart down the wrong aisle, International Foods. I start to turn around, but then I see the Inca Kola and a sly smile curves up on my lips. I take a picture with my phone and email it to my friend Mary. Whereas Coke is the devoted favorite for many Americans, Inca Kola is the soft drink of choice in Peru. Think Mountain Dew or bubble gum as far as flavor, and you can imagine fairly well what Inca Kola tastes like.

Seeing this Inca Kola, I'm instantly transported back to South America and the trip Mary and I took to Peru last year. I remember every accomplishment: correctly getting through the International Airport in Lima with just two Spanish words at my disposal (que to ask "what?" when I didn't understand, and "poquito!" to signal "whoa, just a little" when anyone assumed I spoke Spanish), confidently strolling down the stone streets of Cusco, excitedly taking the train that led to the winding, snaking bus ride up to Machu Picchu, suddenly realizing a sense of pride at making my way to these sacred ruins on my first trip outside the United States.

It doesn't matter what shape you're in when you arrive in this ancient settlement nestled in the Andes Mountain Range. If you hike through the ruins of Machu Picchu, you will feel the struggle in your lungs with every labored breath you inhale, the ache in your joints for every grueling step you take, and the vertigo in your head at every unbalanced height you reach. And all of these sensations will come to a head if you take the trail to the Sun Gate that sits high atop Machu Picchu.

Hiking up to the Sun Gate, there are areas on the trail carved right into the stone of the mountain without a fence, handrail, or even a rope to keep you from falling off the edge and straight down to the Urubamba Valley below. And the trail is tricky in spots, wide enough for only one person to go on ahead with blind corners so you can't see if someone is climbing down as you're attempting to climb up.

I conquered my fear of heights on that trail for one reason only, and her name is Mary. While we were hiking up the trail before getting to those tricky spots, Mary was ahead of me. I screamed out in terror because this huge, horrid, buzzing insect was attempting to invade my ear and it scared me half to death. On instinct, without even flinching, Mary immediately whirled around toward the edge of the cliff and reached out to grab me because she thought I was in mid-tumble off the side of the mountain. We both laughed for a minute thinking about her reaction, but inside I felt relieved. Okay, no matter what, I thought, this girl has my back.

I guess that's what life is about. The tricky spots don't seem so bad when you know the people walking next to you don't want to see you fall. You go through things, scary moments, and you realize just who has your back and who doesn't. Who cares, and who couldn't care less. And you know you're going to be okay, because you've figured out who you can count on.

I sit in the kitchen of my new apartment and eat my first home-cooked meal. I twist open a bottle of Inca Kola, pour it over ice, and raise my glass to toast the ones like Mary who never hesitate to reach out and keep their friends from stumbling.