The Process of Cultural Adjustment Part II

After getting off the ramp leading to the Gun Hill section of the Bronx, which is the place I would call home for the next 3 months, I realized that I was definitely out of my comfort zone. There were no traffic laws whatsoever apparently and the roads were cluttered with potholes. Parking was impossible and as I read the signs I realized I'd be moving my car every 2-3 days to avoid street sweeping. However I embraced it as the beginning of my tenor in the big city. As I lugged my suitcase, duffelbag, and two backpacks to my cousins building I looked around at the buildings and noticed how big of a difference there was in architecture between this place and the place I called home. No building was made of anything other than brick and was no less than 10 floors high. As we entered the apartment, I situated myself with my new surroundings and began to mentally prepare for my 1st day at the office...