Freeway
There weren’t a lot that intimidated me when I first came in the US. As far as I can remember, I only stressed about 3 things:
- Finding a job in line with my training
- Being able to talk in American english with matching accent and
- Driving the freeway
I think I’ve been able to overcome the first two pretty early in my stay here. Well, the American English is still rough since I still speak textbook-correct english instead of gonna-gonna, wanna-wanna and all those silly colloquialisms. But at least I no longer take offense when they say I have a cute little accent.
As for driving the freeway, that took a while. I was terrified of the aggression and the death-defying speed. Imagine merging from the ramp to the freeway at 120 km/hour? No sir, I don’t want to be a highway statistic, thank you very much.
All that changed when I had to drive alone to the mountains for a conference last month. Going to Lake Tahoe meant that I needed to 
pass through the freeway and onto the mountain pass - a grueling 20 minutes of zigzag roads much more treacherous than Kennon Road. I haven’t even driven through Kennon Road so you bet I lost sleep at the thought of driving by myself through Mt. Rose highway and the freeway.
Two days before the conference, I practiced. I used the freeway to go to and from work. It was frustrating. I missed a lane and I ended up in another part of town. Damn the dizzyingly twisted spaghetti bowl, damn the drivers who think they’re invincible, silly me for allowing all that to beat me down. So after my successful trip up and down Lake Tahoe, albeit a little missed turn that set me back a good half hour - I finally conquered my last fear!
I have been taking the freeway everyday now for the last couple of weeks or so. That saves me 10 minutes of travel time each way. Not much you say but when it’s freezing in the morning and it takes that much time to get your blood to defrost, an extra 10 minutes in the morning is a blessing.
And today, I realized I am able to sing along the radio again while driving instead of clamping my jaw for the next lane switch. The freeway no longer has power over me. To borrow a line from my ever kikay sister, Dang when she first learned how to drive: “Syet, I can’t believe it… I’m part of the highway!”
