Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Amid Winter
It is a brisk wintery evening outside. The city is alight with christmas and holiday festivities and each time I wander about it shocks me to realize that I am here, in New York. Each day brings new experiences of living in a big bustling city, though I have to say most days are about getting from my train to the next and then to work and home in as quickest manor as possible. This proves to be difficult in one of the busiest cities and at one of the busiest times of the year. I was able to visit Rockefeller Center and the Christmas tree and wow! It really does take your breath away to see it in person. I have never seen so many christmas lights in my life. This particular time has never been one of my favorites--the commercialism and materialistic version of "holiday season" has clouded alot of the joy of the family and meaningfullness to it all, however, I can't help but feel a prick of Christmas Cheer whilst wandering about this lit up and joyful city. Everywhere you turn there are lights, jingles, trees, giant present boxes, a million Santa suits and then you turn around and see someone volunteer their subway seat (trust me when I say this is a rarity) or give a person on the street a dollar and the real value of the holidays come rushing back to me.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
New York, New York.
It's the real deal folks. Autumn actually exists out in the world. The leaves are orange and red, there are days where sunshine flutters down to us fine peoples face and the sky is blue. A breeze gently glides by and gives that delightful crisp Autumn feeling to the air and I can't quite believe that it isn't raining or snowing. I work only a few blocks from the Empire State Building so whenever I go to or from work I have this amazing tableau of New York. There are these beautiful fruit stands and coffee/bagel carts ($1 for a HUGE bagel and cream cheese = early happiness) and I just think, "Wow, I'm living and working in New York City."
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Novel Beginnings...a taste anyway.
Three excerpts from my novel, tentatively titled "Letters to Remember"
Wood panels creak beneath her bare toes as she walks from the barren kitchen, which she used to spend countless hours cooking—back then, it was well lived in. Trash is piled on one side of the wall in the living room adjacent to the kitchen, while books and paper remnants are exasperated along the opposite wall. It’s an odd scene: an old woman in her nightgown surrounded by a house squandered into almost nothingness. She slowly wanders from room to room, searching for a piece of that life to help her live once more.
She touches the furniture as if for the first time. Slowly running her fingers across the seams and holes from age—couch protectors never found a home here—her bare feet catching on a loose thread from time-to-time, if someone could see here, they would see a curious look in her eye. A look that says, I know this place, I know these things…but why? What stories can they tell me? What stories have I shared with them?...
The sky is blue today, a color to match the sparks of light reflecting from the crystals that hang from my lamp. I see the difference between robin’s egg blue and sky blue. The latter having just a smudge of innocence speckled upon it.
When I was younger, I remember eating peanut butter sandwiches at Aunt Lilly’s house. She had a special room for us; a blue room filled with collections of things. I loved her things; they were always treasures for me. She isn’t like other adults. She never kept her things locked away or yelled at me if I touched them. No, she would give them to me to play with and if something happened to one of them, she just smiled and shook her head. I wanted to be her...
She wanted to be known for her rash and bold posture in this world—for seeking out the ravishing details of life.
Wood panels creak beneath her bare toes as she walks from the barren kitchen, which she used to spend countless hours cooking—back then, it was well lived in. Trash is piled on one side of the wall in the living room adjacent to the kitchen, while books and paper remnants are exasperated along the opposite wall. It’s an odd scene: an old woman in her nightgown surrounded by a house squandered into almost nothingness. She slowly wanders from room to room, searching for a piece of that life to help her live once more.
She touches the furniture as if for the first time. Slowly running her fingers across the seams and holes from age—couch protectors never found a home here—her bare feet catching on a loose thread from time-to-time, if someone could see here, they would see a curious look in her eye. A look that says, I know this place, I know these things…but why? What stories can they tell me? What stories have I shared with them?...
The sky is blue today, a color to match the sparks of light reflecting from the crystals that hang from my lamp. I see the difference between robin’s egg blue and sky blue. The latter having just a smudge of innocence speckled upon it.
When I was younger, I remember eating peanut butter sandwiches at Aunt Lilly’s house. She had a special room for us; a blue room filled with collections of things. I loved her things; they were always treasures for me. She isn’t like other adults. She never kept her things locked away or yelled at me if I touched them. No, she would give them to me to play with and if something happened to one of them, she just smiled and shook her head. I wanted to be her...
She wanted to be known for her rash and bold posture in this world—for seeking out the ravishing details of life.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Raining Balloons
Running around Chelsea yesterday morning in the pouring rain, I had an exciting Mary Tyler Moore moment on the street when I was running down 6th Ave towards 21st Street with a gigantic bag of balloons trailing after me, and my hat flew off! This proved to be a challenging moment in my life where I had to make a split second decision: to risk the balloons smacking someone in the head (or worse flying away!) to get my hat that was bound straight for a puddle (let's be honest, a murky lake), or run the remaining five blocks back without a hat or umbrella and potentially increase my chance to lower my immune system and catch H1N1 virus (trying to be politically correct...) or the H3N8 virus (aka "Horse Flu") though, 'they' tell me that it's found only in animals...suuure. Just like Swine--er, H1N1 flu, right?...
You can bet your darn patooty that I reached down and grabbed that hat! And, I didn't even lose a single balloon.
*UPDATE: Later in the day it was discovered that we were one balloon short of 26 (one for each letter of the alphabet) and thus, I had to go back. Let it be noted that the incident above did not reoccur.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Inside resides a small easily excited child
There I was, just standing on a street side in front of the Metropolitan Correctional Center (MCC) hugging myself because the temperature dropped when all of a sudden I see him, right in front of me...Mr. Noodle from Sesame Street. A small part of my childhood and the childhood of my younger siblings, this man was the highlight of the sesame street hour. I almost ran up to him like some awe-struck 8 year old screaming "Mr. Noodle! Mr. Noodle! Oh my gosh, you're Mr. Noodle!" but I did not. Instead, I calmly waited and was introduced to Bill Irwin and thanked him, and told him I was looking forward to working for him...a little formal perhaps for a 7 minute street-performance, yes. However, I prefer that formality to the opposite of people staring and me morphing from a professionaly dressed "D.A." to an awkward twenty-something girl running amok and making a scene by screaming "MR. NOODLE!!!"
Saturday, October 24, 2009
The Case of Fahad Hashmi
As I mentioned in a previous post, I have become involved with an organization, THAW, that is working on communicating with and educationg the public on the case of Fahad Hashmi. Below is the link to the video from last week's vigil/street theater production. This upcoming Monday (October 26, 2009), I have the privilege of being in the performance (playing the attorney) along with Tony Award Winner Bill Irwin (currently in Bye Bye Birdie on Broadway). These first two performances (last week's and this upcoming Monday's) will be the same script, as people are becoming acquainted with the case. Every Monday hereafter there will be a 'new' production/vigil. The majority of the script is taken from the court transcripts. I will try to be diligent and post the link to the video and any updates. However, I encourage you all to check out the websites THAWaction.org as well as FreeFahad.com.
My hope is to broaden all of our horizons and to perhaps inspire each of us to look a little deeper into what our government has done and continues to do, and to see that the change has to come from the people up--not the top down.
On Thursday October 29th the SAM's (explained below) are up for potential renewal. On Friday October 30th Fahad is back in court for the first time in 2 years--the last time being June 1, 2007.
"Guantanomo NYC" Monday October 19, 2009 THAW Vigil-Street Performance
The Case
The Charges
The US government accused Fahad of providing material support to Al Qaeda, but a close look at the evidence shows that the charges make little sense. Fahad is NOT charged with providing any money or resources to any terrorists or being a member of al Qaeda. Instead, the US government charged Fahad with allowing an old acquaintance — Junaid Babar — to stay in Fahad’s London apartment for about two weeks in 2004. During that two week period, Babar allegedly kept several raincoats, ponchos, and waterproof socks in luggage that Babar temporarily stored in Fahad’s apartment. The US government then alleges that at some point Babar gave the socks and ponchos to a high ranking member of al Qaeda. There is no allegation that Fahad is a member of al Qaeda or that he ever personally gave or helped to give anything to any member of al Qaeda.
Conditions of Fahad’s Imprisonment
Fahad was held in England’s Belmarsh prison mixed with the general prison population for 11 months without incident. Since his extradition to the United States more than a year ago, Fahad has been kept in solitary confinement and subject to unduly restrictive Special Administrative Measures (SAMs), These draconian measures mandate that he be kept under 23-hour lockdown, be allowed only one visit from an immediate family member a week, and have no other contact with anyone besides his lawyer and prison officials. The SAMs also limit the material that Fahad can read and make it illegal for his family members to pass any messages from him onto friends.
Fahad is not charged with any acts of violence, nor were there any accusations that he attempted to contact any terrorists during his time with the general prison population at Belmarsh, rendering the restrictions he is subject to unnecessarily cruel in a society that treats people as innocent until proven guilty. SAMs are meant to prevent crimes orchestrated from within prison walls, but even if EVERYTHING the government alleges is true, there is no evidence that Fahad would be a danger if he were kept with the general prison population.
The Evidence Against Fahad
Substantial evidence in the case will come from the testimony of Junaid Babar, the man who stayed at Fahad’s London apartment as a houseguest. There is evidence to show that Babar’s testimony may be unreliable. He has taken a plea bargain – he will receive a reduced sentence if he agrees to testify against people like Fahad. It is a common practice for the government to offer a deal to one defendant who’s accused of a lesser crime in order to convict a more serious criminal – in this case his testimony will be used try to convict somebody who gave him a place to sleep for two weeks.
Civil Liberties Concerns
Many in the civil liberties community are gravely concerned by the implications of Fahad’s case. Fahad is facing trumped-up charges as a result of his opinions. It is a dangerous precedent to make people responsible for the actions of their houseguests.
Concern also surrounds the conditions of Fahad’s detention. Even were all the charges against him true, the SAMS measures would be unwarranted. The government should exercise extreme caution when deciding when to invoke such severe restrictions. He is in solitary confinement and subject to a regime of severe deprivation. Under the SAM imposed by the Attorney General, Hashmi must be held in solitary confinement and may not communicate with anyone inside the prison other than prison officials. Family visits were not granted for many months and are now limited to one person every other week for one and a half hours, and cannot involve physical contact. Mr. Hashmi may write only one letter (of no more than three pieces of paper) per week to one family member. He may not communicate, either directly or through his attorneys, with the news media. He may read only designated portions of newspapers - and not until thirty days after their publication - and his access to other reading material is restricted. He may not listen to or watch news-oriented radio stations and television channels. He may not participate in group prayer. He is subject to 24-hour electronic monitoring and 23-hour lockdown, has no access to fresh air, and must take his one-hour of daily recreation - when it is given - inside a cage.
--Taken directly from FreeFahad.com
Full court transcript available on-line
My hope is to broaden all of our horizons and to perhaps inspire each of us to look a little deeper into what our government has done and continues to do, and to see that the change has to come from the people up--not the top down.
On Thursday October 29th the SAM's (explained below) are up for potential renewal. On Friday October 30th Fahad is back in court for the first time in 2 years--the last time being June 1, 2007.
"Guantanomo NYC" Monday October 19, 2009 THAW Vigil-Street Performance
The Case
The Charges
The US government accused Fahad of providing material support to Al Qaeda, but a close look at the evidence shows that the charges make little sense. Fahad is NOT charged with providing any money or resources to any terrorists or being a member of al Qaeda. Instead, the US government charged Fahad with allowing an old acquaintance — Junaid Babar — to stay in Fahad’s London apartment for about two weeks in 2004. During that two week period, Babar allegedly kept several raincoats, ponchos, and waterproof socks in luggage that Babar temporarily stored in Fahad’s apartment. The US government then alleges that at some point Babar gave the socks and ponchos to a high ranking member of al Qaeda. There is no allegation that Fahad is a member of al Qaeda or that he ever personally gave or helped to give anything to any member of al Qaeda.
Conditions of Fahad’s Imprisonment
Fahad was held in England’s Belmarsh prison mixed with the general prison population for 11 months without incident. Since his extradition to the United States more than a year ago, Fahad has been kept in solitary confinement and subject to unduly restrictive Special Administrative Measures (SAMs), These draconian measures mandate that he be kept under 23-hour lockdown, be allowed only one visit from an immediate family member a week, and have no other contact with anyone besides his lawyer and prison officials. The SAMs also limit the material that Fahad can read and make it illegal for his family members to pass any messages from him onto friends.
Fahad is not charged with any acts of violence, nor were there any accusations that he attempted to contact any terrorists during his time with the general prison population at Belmarsh, rendering the restrictions he is subject to unnecessarily cruel in a society that treats people as innocent until proven guilty. SAMs are meant to prevent crimes orchestrated from within prison walls, but even if EVERYTHING the government alleges is true, there is no evidence that Fahad would be a danger if he were kept with the general prison population.
The Evidence Against Fahad
Substantial evidence in the case will come from the testimony of Junaid Babar, the man who stayed at Fahad’s London apartment as a houseguest. There is evidence to show that Babar’s testimony may be unreliable. He has taken a plea bargain – he will receive a reduced sentence if he agrees to testify against people like Fahad. It is a common practice for the government to offer a deal to one defendant who’s accused of a lesser crime in order to convict a more serious criminal – in this case his testimony will be used try to convict somebody who gave him a place to sleep for two weeks.
Civil Liberties Concerns
Many in the civil liberties community are gravely concerned by the implications of Fahad’s case. Fahad is facing trumped-up charges as a result of his opinions. It is a dangerous precedent to make people responsible for the actions of their houseguests.
Concern also surrounds the conditions of Fahad’s detention. Even were all the charges against him true, the SAMS measures would be unwarranted. The government should exercise extreme caution when deciding when to invoke such severe restrictions. He is in solitary confinement and subject to a regime of severe deprivation. Under the SAM imposed by the Attorney General, Hashmi must be held in solitary confinement and may not communicate with anyone inside the prison other than prison officials. Family visits were not granted for many months and are now limited to one person every other week for one and a half hours, and cannot involve physical contact. Mr. Hashmi may write only one letter (of no more than three pieces of paper) per week to one family member. He may not communicate, either directly or through his attorneys, with the news media. He may read only designated portions of newspapers - and not until thirty days after their publication - and his access to other reading material is restricted. He may not listen to or watch news-oriented radio stations and television channels. He may not participate in group prayer. He is subject to 24-hour electronic monitoring and 23-hour lockdown, has no access to fresh air, and must take his one-hour of daily recreation - when it is given - inside a cage.
--Taken directly from FreeFahad.com
Full court transcript available on-line
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
NaNoWriMo: A challenge to be won.
Lethargy and disappointment have unfortunately stunted my ability to accurately describe my experience in New York thus far. I fear that pessimism has sought its way into me and I just won't have it any longer. From here on out, I am wiping this sad and struggling face off and putting on a slightly less sad and much more appreciative and optimistic face on!
It has been far to easy for me to sink into dark and depressed days where I just don't do anything except stare into a screen filled with job descriptions and click "upload resume"--this is not healthy for anyone. Especially not a person who is used to being a very busy bee. This week has marked a new awareness and a new sense of action. I went to a vigil on Monday evening put on by THAW (Theaters Against War) and am going on Saturday to get a script to be an actor in next Monday's vigil stree theater performance. I love theater as activism. Along with that, I have decided to partake in this years National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo). This is where participants sign up to write an entire novel--that's 50,000 words folks--in 30 days. Seeing as this is a huge feat for any person, I am expecting it to be a very difficult endeavor for myself as I have never-ever written a novel. I have written short stories when I was younger, but in recent years I focused on non-fiction and decided this time around that I would challenge myself even further by writing a fiction novel. That starts in 11 days. I have next to me my book "The Most Common Errors in English Usage and How to Avoid Them" by Elaine Bender along with "Existentialsim is a Humanism" by Jean-Paul Sartre and finally, my delightful current pleasure read which just feeds my brain and soul "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running" by Haruki Murakami. Quite obviously the first book is going to be helpful in my upcoming month of writing like a mad-person...the Sartre book is food for thought. I love reading about philosophy--not surprising right? And, Mr. Murakami is a new favorite! His words touch me as a human, as a writer and definitely as a runner.
Back to New York.
I had a chance to wander around the West Village the other day and found this wonderful little travel specialy book store IdleWild it really is a treasure. It is small and a recent addition to the city. They have author events all the time, I think this week alone there are four! I missed the one this evening unfortunatley. It was with the author of this fabulous book all about New York's special little spots. Of course, being a newbie to NYC it would have been a helpful event to attend. Alas! Another time.
Living on the Upper West Side has given me a great opportunity to get to know Central Park. It is so amazingly large that I can't even tell you how many times I have gotten lost. Once, I ended up accidentally crossing the park to East 80th street by the Guggenheim and, trying to get back to my apartment, crossed baack across only to end up at West 100th street--23 streets from where I was supposed to be! It was a splendid 6.41 mile run/walk that day...I was, however, able to find my way to Belvedere Castle and show my sister the magnificent view of the city. I am acquiring my sense of direction, but can I just tell you how grateful I am to google.maps.com? The public transportation directions are so helpful! I finally figured out the pattern of uptown/downtown trains and which side of the street you need to be on. Also, the avenues run North to South and the streets East to West (cross town). This is very helpful to know when people are telling you to meet them someplace.
I have a chosen haunt better known as the Aroma Espresso Bar, and this place is pretty awesome. They know my name now, and some of the staff have decided that because I am unemployed and only ever get orange juice that they will occasionally give me free cookies...such wonderful people! They are good cookies too. Some have caramel centers with shortbread, others are chocolate chip and granola..mmm and then there is this amazing almost croissant-like pastry with a thick chocolate inside (small but tasty!) it almost reminds me of the chocolate breakfast bread I had in Turkey...ahh chocoloate.
The fall is slowly setting in. Last week there were a few days where it seemed to have skipped Autumn all together and jumped right to winter--it got to 37 degrees! But, it is back to low 60's high 50's during the day with sunny, only slightly cloudy, days. I can't wait for the leaves to start turning and falling, though I have a feeling that when that starts to happen I will be stuck ina corner of my darling Aroma bar with my orange juice (cookie?) typing maddingly away on my computer to produce an absolute genius work of art...or else, crying pitifully over my crap pages. We'll see.
It has been far to easy for me to sink into dark and depressed days where I just don't do anything except stare into a screen filled with job descriptions and click "upload resume"--this is not healthy for anyone. Especially not a person who is used to being a very busy bee. This week has marked a new awareness and a new sense of action. I went to a vigil on Monday evening put on by THAW (Theaters Against War) and am going on Saturday to get a script to be an actor in next Monday's vigil stree theater performance. I love theater as activism. Along with that, I have decided to partake in this years National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo). This is where participants sign up to write an entire novel--that's 50,000 words folks--in 30 days. Seeing as this is a huge feat for any person, I am expecting it to be a very difficult endeavor for myself as I have never-ever written a novel. I have written short stories when I was younger, but in recent years I focused on non-fiction and decided this time around that I would challenge myself even further by writing a fiction novel. That starts in 11 days. I have next to me my book "The Most Common Errors in English Usage and How to Avoid Them" by Elaine Bender along with "Existentialsim is a Humanism" by Jean-Paul Sartre and finally, my delightful current pleasure read which just feeds my brain and soul "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running" by Haruki Murakami. Quite obviously the first book is going to be helpful in my upcoming month of writing like a mad-person...the Sartre book is food for thought. I love reading about philosophy--not surprising right? And, Mr. Murakami is a new favorite! His words touch me as a human, as a writer and definitely as a runner.
Back to New York.
I had a chance to wander around the West Village the other day and found this wonderful little travel specialy book store IdleWild it really is a treasure. It is small and a recent addition to the city. They have author events all the time, I think this week alone there are four! I missed the one this evening unfortunatley. It was with the author of this fabulous book all about New York's special little spots. Of course, being a newbie to NYC it would have been a helpful event to attend. Alas! Another time.
Living on the Upper West Side has given me a great opportunity to get to know Central Park. It is so amazingly large that I can't even tell you how many times I have gotten lost. Once, I ended up accidentally crossing the park to East 80th street by the Guggenheim and, trying to get back to my apartment, crossed baack across only to end up at West 100th street--23 streets from where I was supposed to be! It was a splendid 6.41 mile run/walk that day...I was, however, able to find my way to Belvedere Castle and show my sister the magnificent view of the city. I am acquiring my sense of direction, but can I just tell you how grateful I am to google.maps.com? The public transportation directions are so helpful! I finally figured out the pattern of uptown/downtown trains and which side of the street you need to be on. Also, the avenues run North to South and the streets East to West (cross town). This is very helpful to know when people are telling you to meet them someplace.
I have a chosen haunt better known as the Aroma Espresso Bar, and this place is pretty awesome. They know my name now, and some of the staff have decided that because I am unemployed and only ever get orange juice that they will occasionally give me free cookies...such wonderful people! They are good cookies too. Some have caramel centers with shortbread, others are chocolate chip and granola..mmm and then there is this amazing almost croissant-like pastry with a thick chocolate inside (small but tasty!) it almost reminds me of the chocolate breakfast bread I had in Turkey...ahh chocoloate.
The fall is slowly setting in. Last week there were a few days where it seemed to have skipped Autumn all together and jumped right to winter--it got to 37 degrees! But, it is back to low 60's high 50's during the day with sunny, only slightly cloudy, days. I can't wait for the leaves to start turning and falling, though I have a feeling that when that starts to happen I will be stuck ina corner of my darling Aroma bar with my orange juice (cookie?) typing maddingly away on my computer to produce an absolute genius work of art...or else, crying pitifully over my crap pages. We'll see.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
The Human Condition.
I am sitting in a café in New York City. I am unemployed. I am staring out the window with the rain falling outside: I thought I had left the drizzle behind me. My days are empty if you think that working a paying job makes your life full; my days are full if you think having freedom to go where you want, when you want without having a time-line is the essence of living. I wake up, pick the cat hair off of my face as it has usually collected there and stare into the room of the tiny apartment that I am calling my ‘home’—it is a small but useful space with a collection of suitcases and piles of clothes. It has a lived in feeling to it, while still seeming a little vacant. I yearn for that job that I will get someday, and yet I loathe the thought of a job. I don’t understand why this has become such a necessary aspect of being human. A job is a purpose? A purpose is to find a job? To survive one must have money, to have money one must sacrifice time and energy to acquire a job. I want to exist in this world as an active participant, yet, I don’t want to participate in this world of survival=money=job=money=survival. I miss being a small child, innocently unaware of the struggles that we each face within our lives to become a ‘real person’ that person that grows into their dark circles under their eyes, the inherent sagging shoulders on days where your head hangs heavily from your neck…tired of the monotony of life and yet, you do it all to be a part of life. To live. To experience this world.
I don’t know where to go with myself anymore. I don’t mean physically. I get to walk around the greatest city in the world for as long as I want right now. Those usually take me to spots overlooking the city, or viewing the well-known city locations like the Rockefeller center with the ice skating rink, or the NBC studios. (Side note: as I am typing this, they are filming a scene at Aroma Espresso Café for “As the World Turns” right behind me. I think my back could be famous tomorrow…oh New York City.) What I mean is this: What am I doing in this world? Sometimes I think that I should be an attorney like so many people suggest to me…perhaps that is where I could most help others. Something about being attorney just doesn’t appeal to me though, and then I question my selfishness. Am I wasting away my talents and potential by not pursuing a legal career? That is the same question I asked myself when I stopped pursuing a theater major. I have all of these inner struggles with the concept of selfishness. I get overly concerned and then, other times, I completely disregard and that is when I am at my worst I am afraid. Hypersensitive. Cold. What a great dichotomy…These questions and concerns are what prompted me to design the major that I did: an intricate look at identity and self. This is why I think that writing suits me well. I get to ask questions and ponder them. I can just think about these things, read and discuss them and write about what all of this means to me. But, does anyone else really care? I had this grandiose plan that I would start a blog and then hundreds, perhaps thousands of people would read it and I could then know, this is right for me. I am a writer. Unfortunately, rarely do things go as are planned or wished. I can accept that. I know that in life things take time, patience and hard work. It is just hard to be in such a state of transition and having to be okay with not knowing...I'm learning a lot about myself.
Friday, October 2, 2009
The Rıght of (Turkısh) Way
Today was an early mornıng that started at 5:30am when we had to be up to leave by 6am to drıve Lızzıe to the Ataturk aırport to fly back to the USA. Maggıe and then went on our own adventure on a Ferry rıde across the Bosphorous and Golden Horn to the Black Sea. It was a pleasant 1.5 hr rıde up and a few hours to wander around the small town and clımb the hıll to a castle and peer out over the Black Sea (not so black FYI) and another 1.5 hours back. Of course, who do we meet on the ferry but four Calıfornıans! We chıt-chat for awhıle and see a massıve swarm of Jelly fısh ın the Bosphorous alongsıde our Ferry (ıt was quıte a scary thought to sınk ın Jelly fısh ınfested water)and starıng awe-shocked by the $60,000,000 mansıons along the Bosphorous waters edge and theır ın-grouınhd outsıde swımmıng pools and yachts parked ın frong. We had an ınterestıng questıon once we started talkıng about cars and then traffıc and how no one here seems to use traffıc sıgnals or road lınes (you could be drıvıng wıth the medıan lıne ın between the front wheels and be okıe-dokıe as long as no one crashes ınto you!) so we posed the questıon: What are Turkısh vıews or needs of ınsurance and traffıc ıncıdents? Are they as festıdıous as U.S. Amerıcans are?
**sıde note**
Thıngs that have made an ımpressıon on me whılst ın Turkey:
1. The Black Tea. Every mornıng, afternoon, mıd-afternoon, evenıng and before bedtıme we drınk tea. Let me just clarıfy, thıs ıs the best tea...ever.
2. Whıle I apprecıate my own countrıes separatıon of church and state and Turkey has freedom of relıgıon as well, I love the strength of the Muslım relıgıon all around and the unıfyıng qualıty ıt has on thıs culture. The prayer calls I fınd to be beautıful ınstead of repetıtıve and noısy--they brıng me joy and sımple momentary clarıty.
3. The charmıng manor of the Turkısh people ın theır entırety.
4. The lack of drıvıng rules (or the followıng of them) as a wıdespread decısıon of the people and yet, the safety and general safety that I feel on the roads.
Thıs brıngs me to my purpose of thıs late-nıght post.
Sıttıng ın the front seat of the car, my seat by habıt throughout thıs trıp, my eye-lıds heavy wıth sleep after a day that started much too early...an unfortunately brıght 5:30am...our car ıs swervıng and weavıng at ıts usual speed and near-hıttıngness, when we come to a street. It ıs close to the apartment that I am stayıng at and I can practıcally feeeeel the sheets beneath my overtıred and heavy bones.
The cars are backed up. At fırst, I thınk nothıng of thıs. I see the taxı ın front of us turn the reverse lıghts on and feel our car begın to do the same, expectıng to take a rıght-hand turn as ıt ıs a one-way street...mmm...nope. We veer left, cuttıng off the taxı who waaas ın front of us and now ıs angrıly honkıng as our lıttle sılver Fıat ıgnores the flashıng lıghts ın our faces and sıts patıently as the traffıc rolls past us, goıng the opposıte dırectıon than we are tryıng to turn. My heart quıckens slıghtly as the lıttle Fıat lurches forward as a small openıng appears just at the same moment a women ıs tryıng to cross the street, we nearly mıss her and she stops herself before her foot ıs lost to our many pounds of metal and flesh. Up a lıttle street lıned on both sıdes wıth cars parked, leavıng only a very narrow space for one sıngle lıne of cars to go down the street. Only, ıt ıs a one way street agaın and yes, we are goıng the wrong way--on purpose. As my hands grıp my water bottle a lıttle tıghter I notıce a large whıte delıvery truck comıng towards us on thıs creek of pavement. We stop ın front as the drıver waves hıs hand our horn ıs blarıng, Turkısh ıs beıng splayed out the wındows back and forth back and forth back and forth untıl ıt ıs resolved that no, we cannot pass as there are cars ımpatıent behınd the delıvery truck. Who would have thought?
The street seems to get smaller as our car backs up the length of the dıstance we have drıven narrowıly mısssıng the parked cars. I fınd myself holdıng my breath my eyes wanderıng to Maggıes and sılently askıng `please tell me you are seeıng thıs too` and gettıng the nervous stare ın return that says `Yes, oh hell yes.` A sıgh ıs beıng exhaled from my chest as our street ends and the car begıns to correct ıtself to joın traffıc, goıng the correct way, when CRUNCH! our Fıat has hıt a van behınd us.
Nothıng serıous, the van ıs fıne and the people drıve on as do we ın our slıghtly dented car realızıng that our answer to our earlıer ıquestıon ıs, nope people dont really care about mınor traffıc ıncıdents and ınsurance probably ısnt that bıg of a deal here...Who knew that the Rıght of Way ın Turkey ıs every way, as long as everyone walks (or drıves) away ın most all of theır pıeces.
**sıde note**
Thıngs that have made an ımpressıon on me whılst ın Turkey:
1. The Black Tea. Every mornıng, afternoon, mıd-afternoon, evenıng and before bedtıme we drınk tea. Let me just clarıfy, thıs ıs the best tea...ever.
2. Whıle I apprecıate my own countrıes separatıon of church and state and Turkey has freedom of relıgıon as well, I love the strength of the Muslım relıgıon all around and the unıfyıng qualıty ıt has on thıs culture. The prayer calls I fınd to be beautıful ınstead of repetıtıve and noısy--they brıng me joy and sımple momentary clarıty.
3. The charmıng manor of the Turkısh people ın theır entırety.
4. The lack of drıvıng rules (or the followıng of them) as a wıdespread decısıon of the people and yet, the safety and general safety that I feel on the roads.
Thıs brıngs me to my purpose of thıs late-nıght post.
Sıttıng ın the front seat of the car, my seat by habıt throughout thıs trıp, my eye-lıds heavy wıth sleep after a day that started much too early...an unfortunately brıght 5:30am...our car ıs swervıng and weavıng at ıts usual speed and near-hıttıngness, when we come to a street. It ıs close to the apartment that I am stayıng at and I can practıcally feeeeel the sheets beneath my overtıred and heavy bones.
The cars are backed up. At fırst, I thınk nothıng of thıs. I see the taxı ın front of us turn the reverse lıghts on and feel our car begın to do the same, expectıng to take a rıght-hand turn as ıt ıs a one-way street...mmm...nope. We veer left, cuttıng off the taxı who waaas ın front of us and now ıs angrıly honkıng as our lıttle sılver Fıat ıgnores the flashıng lıghts ın our faces and sıts patıently as the traffıc rolls past us, goıng the opposıte dırectıon than we are tryıng to turn. My heart quıckens slıghtly as the lıttle Fıat lurches forward as a small openıng appears just at the same moment a women ıs tryıng to cross the street, we nearly mıss her and she stops herself before her foot ıs lost to our many pounds of metal and flesh. Up a lıttle street lıned on both sıdes wıth cars parked, leavıng only a very narrow space for one sıngle lıne of cars to go down the street. Only, ıt ıs a one way street agaın and yes, we are goıng the wrong way--on purpose. As my hands grıp my water bottle a lıttle tıghter I notıce a large whıte delıvery truck comıng towards us on thıs creek of pavement. We stop ın front as the drıver waves hıs hand our horn ıs blarıng, Turkısh ıs beıng splayed out the wındows back and forth back and forth back and forth untıl ıt ıs resolved that no, we cannot pass as there are cars ımpatıent behınd the delıvery truck. Who would have thought?
The street seems to get smaller as our car backs up the length of the dıstance we have drıven narrowıly mısssıng the parked cars. I fınd myself holdıng my breath my eyes wanderıng to Maggıes and sılently askıng `please tell me you are seeıng thıs too` and gettıng the nervous stare ın return that says `Yes, oh hell yes.` A sıgh ıs beıng exhaled from my chest as our street ends and the car begıns to correct ıtself to joın traffıc, goıng the correct way, when CRUNCH! our Fıat has hıt a van behınd us.
Nothıng serıous, the van ıs fıne and the people drıve on as do we ın our slıghtly dented car realızıng that our answer to our earlıer ıquestıon ıs, nope people dont really care about mınor traffıc ıncıdents and ınsurance probably ısnt that bıg of a deal here...Who knew that the Rıght of Way ın Turkey ıs every way, as long as everyone walks (or drıves) away ın most all of theır pıeces.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
14 hours on a bus ın less than 24 hours
I just got off of a 10 hour bus rıde from Kuşadasi and am now sıttıng at a gıant bus termınal ın the capıtal, Ankara, whıch ıs sıtuated ın central Turkey. My feet are slıghtly swollen along wıth my hands and I can feel the tıred ın my face, the dark cırcles under my eyes and know that when people look at me they see a weary traveler not of theır country. I am able to accept thıs. I am a traveler and I am weary. My whole beıng ıs exhausted and yet, ı know that ın another hour I wıll get back on another bus and sıt for another 4 hours to travel to Karabuk where we wıll get pıcked up and fınally not be on our own agaın, as lovely as that freedom has been, I am ready to be taken care of (a lıttle bıt) agaın.
Yesterday we went to Ephesus, St. Johns tomb and the last known house and dyıng place of the Vırgın Mary. It was very overwhelmıng to be walkıng through ancıent ruıns datıng back 3000 years and the supposed restıng places of Jesus` mother. At Ephesus, the lıbrary was by far the most spectacular structure. Its two storıes were ıntact at least ın comparıson to others and ıt ıs massıve! All of the detaıl that was put ınto each buıldıng just knocks all of our modern archıtecture to the ground. The mosaıc and the carvıng, the statues and the ıntrıcate sculptures. The theater (Greco-roman) was a horseshoe shape and sat 24000 people. It had the perfect acoustıcs as one of us could stand ın the mıddle and be heard at the top. Truly amazıng to experıence. The gırls and I were commentıng on how after 3000 years these ruıns were stıll recognızable and wondered how our structures wıth the steel poles and pvc pıpıng wıll be remembered or envısıoned ın mıllenıum to come.
At Mary`s house we passed through the home whıch ıs a pılgrımage sıte and were able to see the ınsıde shrıne and walls. It was stone and brıck but once out of the house we could go down to a sacred fountaın where ıt ıs belıeved that ıf you drınk the water (thought to be holy water) and make a wısh ıt wıll come true. There was also a prayer wall where people wrıte a prayer on somethıng, ıt could be a napkın a sock, paper etc... we used toılet paper, and then tıe ıt to the wall. Once ıt comes free ın the wınd the prayer wıll be answered. Whıle I don`t generally consıder myself relıgıous, ı am spırıtual and felt an energy presence that cant quıte be explaıned. Regardless of relıgıous background I thınk that most people can apprecıate the hıstorıcal sıgnıfıcance of St. Johns tomb and Marys house.
Its hard to belıeve all of the travelıng that I have done over the past two weeks. By the end of the trıp I wıll have been to almost all regıons of turkey except the eastern sıde. And sınce Turkey sıts ın both Asıa and Europe I can now say ı have been to Asıa!
I am really lookıng forward to goıng to the Black sea and reconnectıng wıth Maggıe`s cousıns Krısta and Kamıl and lıttle Nür. Kamıl has been wonderful helpıng wıth our travel plans and always callıng to check ın wıth us to know where we are and how we are doıng. It ıs good to know we have someone ın thıs country lookıng out for us and our safety. That ıs not to allude to me feelıng unsafe here, as ı have not felt unsafe at all actually. Turkey ıs, from my experıence thus far, a generally safe place as long as one ıs smart and cautıous.
The bus statıon that I am ın rıght now ıs the equıvalent of our aırports but...buses. It ıs huge wıth multıple termınals and an ınsane amount of people flowıng through the doors travelıng everywhere! It ıs a hub of chaos. The ınternet cafe people I thınk took pıty on us and our very ragged lookıng selves as we came through the doors and asked "how much for 15 mınutes?" they saıd, "you sıt. we don,t want your money. just sıt anywhere." It was very generous of them.
The more I travel abroad, the more I questıon my abılıty to ever leave for a long perıod of tıme. I mıss my home. Though, rıght now I am not sure where exactly that ıs. I mıss my famıly, those I know exactly who they are. Despıte my precarıous fınancıal sıtuatıon when I return, I cant help but look forward to tryıng out the whole unemployment thıng and hopefully fındıng a job or two (or three??) that provıde me wıth an ıncome and hone ın on what ıt ıs that I want to DO wıth my lıfe...maybe not ımmedıately, but that ınsıght sure would be nıce to have sooner than later.
Bus leaves ın T-mınus 70 mınutes...I can already smell the refreshıng Turkısh cologne (a fragrant oıl lıke sanıtızer that they pour on your hands and you rub on your arms and neck) and the febreeze they lıke to spray on the carpet to keep the coach smellıng nıce (a lıttle overused but apprecıated as stale and sweaty coach ıs worse than too many flower scents) and I cant complaın about the lıttle snacks-sıdenote--the bread here ıs out of thıs world amazıng...I have become a bread-aholıc here, much to my chagrın.
Im off to the black sea. I always love to get e-maıls (thank you for those of you who have sent me some!) so feel free to wrıte me and, whıle chances are I wont be able to reply ındıvıdually whıle Im gone, Ill try but know that ıf ı dont I love hearıng from you.
Peace and well-beıng to you.
Teşhacür Edırim.
Yesterday we went to Ephesus, St. Johns tomb and the last known house and dyıng place of the Vırgın Mary. It was very overwhelmıng to be walkıng through ancıent ruıns datıng back 3000 years and the supposed restıng places of Jesus` mother. At Ephesus, the lıbrary was by far the most spectacular structure. Its two storıes were ıntact at least ın comparıson to others and ıt ıs massıve! All of the detaıl that was put ınto each buıldıng just knocks all of our modern archıtecture to the ground. The mosaıc and the carvıng, the statues and the ıntrıcate sculptures. The theater (Greco-roman) was a horseshoe shape and sat 24000 people. It had the perfect acoustıcs as one of us could stand ın the mıddle and be heard at the top. Truly amazıng to experıence. The gırls and I were commentıng on how after 3000 years these ruıns were stıll recognızable and wondered how our structures wıth the steel poles and pvc pıpıng wıll be remembered or envısıoned ın mıllenıum to come.
At Mary`s house we passed through the home whıch ıs a pılgrımage sıte and were able to see the ınsıde shrıne and walls. It was stone and brıck but once out of the house we could go down to a sacred fountaın where ıt ıs belıeved that ıf you drınk the water (thought to be holy water) and make a wısh ıt wıll come true. There was also a prayer wall where people wrıte a prayer on somethıng, ıt could be a napkın a sock, paper etc... we used toılet paper, and then tıe ıt to the wall. Once ıt comes free ın the wınd the prayer wıll be answered. Whıle I don`t generally consıder myself relıgıous, ı am spırıtual and felt an energy presence that cant quıte be explaıned. Regardless of relıgıous background I thınk that most people can apprecıate the hıstorıcal sıgnıfıcance of St. Johns tomb and Marys house.
Its hard to belıeve all of the travelıng that I have done over the past two weeks. By the end of the trıp I wıll have been to almost all regıons of turkey except the eastern sıde. And sınce Turkey sıts ın both Asıa and Europe I can now say ı have been to Asıa!
I am really lookıng forward to goıng to the Black sea and reconnectıng wıth Maggıe`s cousıns Krısta and Kamıl and lıttle Nür. Kamıl has been wonderful helpıng wıth our travel plans and always callıng to check ın wıth us to know where we are and how we are doıng. It ıs good to know we have someone ın thıs country lookıng out for us and our safety. That ıs not to allude to me feelıng unsafe here, as ı have not felt unsafe at all actually. Turkey ıs, from my experıence thus far, a generally safe place as long as one ıs smart and cautıous.
The bus statıon that I am ın rıght now ıs the equıvalent of our aırports but...buses. It ıs huge wıth multıple termınals and an ınsane amount of people flowıng through the doors travelıng everywhere! It ıs a hub of chaos. The ınternet cafe people I thınk took pıty on us and our very ragged lookıng selves as we came through the doors and asked "how much for 15 mınutes?" they saıd, "you sıt. we don,t want your money. just sıt anywhere." It was very generous of them.
The more I travel abroad, the more I questıon my abılıty to ever leave for a long perıod of tıme. I mıss my home. Though, rıght now I am not sure where exactly that ıs. I mıss my famıly, those I know exactly who they are. Despıte my precarıous fınancıal sıtuatıon when I return, I cant help but look forward to tryıng out the whole unemployment thıng and hopefully fındıng a job or two (or three??) that provıde me wıth an ıncome and hone ın on what ıt ıs that I want to DO wıth my lıfe...maybe not ımmedıately, but that ınsıght sure would be nıce to have sooner than later.
Bus leaves ın T-mınus 70 mınutes...I can already smell the refreshıng Turkısh cologne (a fragrant oıl lıke sanıtızer that they pour on your hands and you rub on your arms and neck) and the febreeze they lıke to spray on the carpet to keep the coach smellıng nıce (a lıttle overused but apprecıated as stale and sweaty coach ıs worse than too many flower scents) and I cant complaın about the lıttle snacks-sıdenote--the bread here ıs out of thıs world amazıng...I have become a bread-aholıc here, much to my chagrın.
Im off to the black sea. I always love to get e-maıls (thank you for those of you who have sent me some!) so feel free to wrıte me and, whıle chances are I wont be able to reply ındıvıdually whıle Im gone, Ill try but know that ıf ı dont I love hearıng from you.
Peace and well-beıng to you.
Teşhacür Edırim.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The cats meow
I am sitting in a small internet cafe on the Greek island of Lesvos' capital city, Mytillini with the hot mediterranean sun pouring onto my keys encouraging speedy typing so as not to burn my fingertips. I have just come from Eresus, the hometown of ancient poetess, Sappho (Sap-Foh). The small town sits directly on the sea with only a very distant island varely visible in the clear sky on the horizon. Our hotel was literally steps away from the sea and sandy beaches. We hiked up to the old ruins of Sappho's house and it was not only awe-inspiring to sea but the view from atop the hill allowed us an eagle-nest view of all of Eresus. It was hard for me to keep in the forefront of my mind that this was a place of ancient people and places--Sappho lived in approx 500 B.C. All around me was this feeling of age and wisdom; the hills have seen things I couldn't even dream of, that probably none of my ancestors ever have. It was very humbling and I am looking forward to seeing Ephesus back in Turkey where, I am sure, very much of the same feelings will surface if not with more intensity as that is an ancient city from 3,000 + years ago. But, how did I come to find myself on Lesvos, Greece?
Myself and my two friends, Maggie and Lizzie arrived in Istanbul, Turkey on September 16th in the morning after a 10-hour airplane ride where we indulged in such frivolities as watching the "Hannah Montana Movie" and "X-Men Origins: Wolverine" and, let's not forget the free Bloody Mary's! Maggie's cousin, Krista, and her husband, Kamil, picked us up from the Ataturk airport with their darling 4 (almost 5) year old daughter, Nur (pronounced NORE). Without even having a chance we were whisked into Isanbul's old cities and winding roads. It was exquisite and Istanbul has become easily one of my favorite cities in the world that I have visited.
Home to 18-20 million people (this number is argued so I will just go with the approximate) it spans for miles and when you first catch a glimpse of it it really does go on forever. All around the city are beautifully constructed Mosques that stand out from far away. Every day, six times a day, the prayer calls are heard from each Mosque as a call to pray. It is magical. Even the 6am call has been like music to me. It is a culture that I am coming to respect more so than I did before, and wanting an even greater understanding of as I am realizing the huge misconceptions that the world has of the Muslim people and their culture and religion. We were only in Istanbul very briefly, but were able to go into the Aya Sophia (Hagia Sophia) and the Blue Mosque, very famous buidings. We also were there for the end of Ramadan and each evening at Iftar (the time at dusk when people break their fast) we were able to be at the festivities and saw the Underground Cistern and Hippodrome.
A bus to Ayvalik and the island of Cunda was shortly thereafter and several days spent on the beautiful beach island. I have many more stories but am limited on time so I have to cut this short. Before I go though, a note about the title: not only is Turkey really the "cat's meow" in all of that hip and awesome-ness...but it literally has more stray cats and dogs than ANY other place (aside from Lesvos) that I have been to. They are EVERYWHERE and very calm and friendly, for the most part. So, lots of interesting and adorable (someone freaky) cat pictures will be available upon my return.
Many well wishes to you all and I hope to write again soon. Tomorrow we head back to Ayvalik to catch a bus to Izmir than up to Selcuk to see Ephesus. Then the following day to Karabuk and the black sea for a few days before back to Istanbul. 11 days remain.
I hope this finds you all well and I can't wait to share photos!
Much love--Heather
Myself and my two friends, Maggie and Lizzie arrived in Istanbul, Turkey on September 16th in the morning after a 10-hour airplane ride where we indulged in such frivolities as watching the "Hannah Montana Movie" and "X-Men Origins: Wolverine" and, let's not forget the free Bloody Mary's! Maggie's cousin, Krista, and her husband, Kamil, picked us up from the Ataturk airport with their darling 4 (almost 5) year old daughter, Nur (pronounced NORE). Without even having a chance we were whisked into Isanbul's old cities and winding roads. It was exquisite and Istanbul has become easily one of my favorite cities in the world that I have visited.
Home to 18-20 million people (this number is argued so I will just go with the approximate) it spans for miles and when you first catch a glimpse of it it really does go on forever. All around the city are beautifully constructed Mosques that stand out from far away. Every day, six times a day, the prayer calls are heard from each Mosque as a call to pray. It is magical. Even the 6am call has been like music to me. It is a culture that I am coming to respect more so than I did before, and wanting an even greater understanding of as I am realizing the huge misconceptions that the world has of the Muslim people and their culture and religion. We were only in Istanbul very briefly, but were able to go into the Aya Sophia (Hagia Sophia) and the Blue Mosque, very famous buidings. We also were there for the end of Ramadan and each evening at Iftar (the time at dusk when people break their fast) we were able to be at the festivities and saw the Underground Cistern and Hippodrome.
A bus to Ayvalik and the island of Cunda was shortly thereafter and several days spent on the beautiful beach island. I have many more stories but am limited on time so I have to cut this short. Before I go though, a note about the title: not only is Turkey really the "cat's meow" in all of that hip and awesome-ness...but it literally has more stray cats and dogs than ANY other place (aside from Lesvos) that I have been to. They are EVERYWHERE and very calm and friendly, for the most part. So, lots of interesting and adorable (someone freaky) cat pictures will be available upon my return.
Many well wishes to you all and I hope to write again soon. Tomorrow we head back to Ayvalik to catch a bus to Izmir than up to Selcuk to see Ephesus. Then the following day to Karabuk and the black sea for a few days before back to Istanbul. 11 days remain.
I hope this finds you all well and I can't wait to share photos!
Much love--Heather
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Now, where am I?
Flying used to be a thing of luxury and show, excitement and exoticism. Not that it isn't those things today for many people, not to mention a privilege that I don't take for granted...I feel a bit numbed by all my bi-coastal traveling in the last few weeks. I've always known that I love to travel. I've always known that I love to fly. What I just discovered, is that I really hate sitting on a plane and I do not enjoy airports like I used to. I still find them fascinating places to people watch (when I am not so tired that I fall asleep only to be abruptly awoken by a women shouting to her husband which literally made me jump up and think that I had missed my flight...I was quite delirious and I am sure she thought I was on drugs with my eyes glazed and red as they were--this was in Chicago, too so add in some very think Chicaaaago accents) and they each have unique ambiances that range from Stark Stoicism to Chic Modernism but, an airport is chaos. It is a microcosm of society that you can't find anywhere else, it creates relationships that are the epitome of temporary and yet, profound in some circumstances, above all else it seems to be a social experiment. Fascinating, yes. Enjoyable? No. I love my destinations. The anticipation of going somewhere and having a new experience despite having been there before or not. I think it's what I live for.
I just got back from my bi-coastal trip to San Francisco, more specifically, Stinson Beach. My grandmother turned 75 on 9-9-09 and wanted to have her whole family together (or as many as could make it) so she rented a house right on the beach for us to stay at. There was 18 people at the peak of population at our abode. It always amazes me how much FUN we have when we get together. I absolutely adore my family. It stung though, to realize just how far away I am from everyone now that I am going to be living in New York City.
Another new land, a world away from my familiarity: Istanbul, Turkey. It is strange how I haven't really even thought much about this trip. It's been in the back of mind but it hasn't been the main source of excitement or anxiety. I've had so many things going on like moving, interview and traveling that I haven't had time to process it. And, now it's tomorrow. I think this will be the end of my international travels for awhile. When I get back I have to turn into a 'real' person and find a job (or start my job?). Sad, reality. I wish I could stay in fantasy-travel-land forever. But alas, I must join the ranks of the living and impoverished, at least temporarily. Until my next post (hopefully from Turkey!)...
Peace and wellness to you all.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
'round and 'round I go.
Turn up Park Avenue...no no, that's not right. Should I turn around? I know I'm go ing the wrong direction, but I'll look like an idiot for turning mid-sidewalk and going in the opposite direction. I have to turn around. I'll just pretend like someone called me and I have to go meet them, that way no one suspects that I am not from the City. Abruptly stops and digs in purse (seemingly frantically)for phone to look at it, and then again, abruptly, turn around and continue the other (correct) direction. Whew. Well, that wasn't too scary. Now...where to turn next? I need to West 23rd Street to get back to the subway station, but where is it? There's the park, there's the statue of some guy cast in bronze, and oh oh there it is! YAY!
Thus was many a moment in today's "ADVENTURE IN NEW YORK CITY" where Heather finds herself going in the wrong direction multiple times and keeps walking...knowingly. This is called an unfortunate case of pride and I-don't-want-you-to-know-that-I-am-new-here-and-think-badly-of-me-even-though-you-aren't-even-paying-attention-to-me-and-I-am-pretty-sure-that-I-flashed-a-whole-bunch-of-people-when-the-wind-blew-my-skirt-up syndrome. Terribly unfortunate. But, gratefully didn't last too long.
Today is my official full second day in the city. It is quite bizarre to be here. This is a place I've wanted to live in for so long. And, now I'm here. Jobless and though not homeless I do not have a 'home'. I have been fortunate enough to have a good friend of mine from high school, LouAnne, offer me her apartment to stay in with her while I am figuring things out. It's muggy here, but I don't mind it. My hair and skin are acting differently, but considering the time I've spent in D.C. and Ghana, I am well prepared to handle the frizz and an extra layer of sweat.
I went and scoped out the building my interview is in tomorrow. It is swanky. Very classy and professional. Huge glass displays with china, jewelry, silver and glass. There is a lovely little park, the madison square park, right across from the building. I am sure it is a great place for lunches and afternoon breaks. I really hope that the interview goes well tomorrow. I haven't had a job interview in 3 years and am quite nervous about the possible questions they are going to ask me. What if I just freeze? I'll think of something, I know that. It will be nice to have this put behind me and then I can be even more excited about TURKEY!! So much traveling in such a short amount of time is exhausting. Tomorrow will be my third day here and then I leave super early Thursday morning for San Francisco. I hope my flight out west goes better than it did the east. I was in so much pain. Ugh. I'll take some tylenol PM or something to knock me out.
Well, I am on the move again...
Sunday, September 6, 2009
PST
(View in the Chicago O'Hare at the computer kiosk)It is 4:49 am in Bellingham. In Seattle. In Washington. Pacific Standard Time. It is 6:49 am where I am. In between my home and my destination. Caught in the rift between my two time zones. Eastern Standard Time, I am on my way.
Currently, I am ini the Chicago O'Hare airport. I have another (almost) 3 hours until my next flight leaves. Then, onward to my new state: New York.
For someone who has flown so much in her life I can say that this trip has thus far brought new experiences. First, I got driven to the airport in a preeetty fancy Lincoln Towncar (stylish, oh ya.), which I have never had done before. Second, I checked luggage!! Not just any luggage though, THREE bags...two of them weighing an inhumane (to those poor airline workers) 47.5 lbs each, and my 'little' bag weighing in at 34.5 lbs! Not my usual style--trust me. For one of the first times in my life, I walked onto a plane, knew where I was sitting and sat there. No problems, no questions, minimal waiting (who knew?!) and only had my laptop and purse (feels more like a small child-stuffed bag--did I forget to tell Tamia I took "A" with me? Just Kidding!). What freedom! What sheer simplicity. No wonder few people really enjoy flying stand-by. I still don't mind it, as it has allowed me to go so many places (thanks Dad!). But, really? I guess money really can buy comfort and ease. On a plane that is. The last new experience is rather unpleasant. I have always been a sleeper on planes, trains, automobiles--really any kind of transportation and Zonk/I am out. This time around, I couldn't get comfortable from the get-go. This then manifested into whole body aches and pains. My hands, wrists and legs seizing into deep aching cramps that still are hurting me now as I type. I tried to massage them and it did not help at all. My neck hurt, my back hurt. I felt nausous and was having to meditate and lull myself into focusing on other things just so as not to get sick throughout a large part of the flight. I think it could have come from a few things potentially: nerves. I mean, I AM moving all the way across the country and it's sad. and scary; lack of food/water. I was too nervous to really eat or drink before I left; The cold/flu going around Seattle (sorry airplane passengers if you now get this, too! No, I did not start an epidemic...?) or finally, maybe it was the Odwalla Mango Tango that sat out for 4+ hours that I chugged while I was waiting to go through Security at SeaTac?? Not quite sure. Regardless, I am not feeling very well now. Sleep deprivation, I am sure, is not going ot help my symptoms but hopefully the ibuprofen I took will.
T-Minus 2 hours until next flight departure. Oh dear. Airport stays, I am alll too familiar with the monotony. Thank you Internet Access. I really appreciate your existence right now.
Write y'all from the EST.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Play.Ground.Play: a night time pondering photo poem
In wonderment I wonder, where can the stars be tonight? While they gaze from the sky, wishing for me to wish upon them, do they wonder where have I gone? I wonder if the universe feels lonely to the stars: to suspend within the sky, twinkling. The silent, distant, unseen existence weights heavily on my mind. And yet, I wonder what if we are only as significant as the stars? You. Me. Them. Caught in this web, this entanglement of existence. You. Me. Us. We are together in this vast nothingness--everythingness. Twinkling.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Whispers of Adventure
As my time in Bellingham comes to an end, I can't help but admire and nostalgically stare at the odd quirks strewn about town. This is a place that I have fallen in love with, plain and simple. Four years is the longest I have lived in one place outside of my home-state, Alaska. Bellingham fed me my independence and guided me to the most encouraging and supportive people I know. It makes me sad to realize that just as I am finally given the freedom of time to truly explore the deeper intricacies and unique setting that I am in, I am leaving. Sometimes I wonder if I am just running away. Am I finding it too comfortable to stay here? What if I forever need to hold on to my nomadic tendencies and roam about the world; what about a home? In my last year of school I can remember my friends and I talking, complaining really, about Bellingham the city of subdued excitement, really. Where was the life? Where were the new people? Coming from a small town in Alaska with a population less than 10,000 while growing up, Bellingham is easily described as a city in comparison. Though, after spending four years deeply embedded in the college population (that shifts every single year, mind you) I do believe we felt like that was that. The comings and goings of our peers were no longer the exciting events that it used to be; we could feel the end nearing. No more 'new' classes or classmates...we weren't going to be part of the special population: the students. Now that I am not a student, I have to say that I love it so much. Don't get me wrong, I love to learn and being in school was enjoyable to a certain degree--but I love my afternoon runs and reading books at the park. I love having time for me, for you, for anything. Whilst I have been enjoying this time, I have come to realize that the newness of Bellingham is far more prevalent than previously realized or wanted to see. I am still meeting new people in places that I have been going or participating in activities for years. Wonderful, talented and unique people who I wish dearly that I had met earlier on. I am still discovering roads and paths, beaches and trails that I have never heard of or seen before. Have I willingly been blinded to opportunities that might have created attachment to Bellingham? Perhaps New York has not been calling me like I thought, so much as I've been whispering promises of adventure to myself if only I'd leave...
I've been reading this fantastic blog Thinking Out Loud and the post today was all about embarking on a new journey and the fear and excitement associated with that newness. Kim talks about how it was the best decision in the moment even though at the time, she was nervous it was a mistake. It was so comforting to me to read about someone elses experience at this time in my life. This move is really startingn to scare me. Not so much as to stop me, but enough for me to think very seriously about the important people in my life and to think about what I want to gather from this experience. I want to make the most of it, and I really hope I don't disappoint anyone--especially myself.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Looking Up: Wandering Kitchen
This is a van that belongs to a group of folks I met in Fairhaven whilst wondering around. They provide free food and are known as a wandering kitchen. They drive all over the U.S.A. and come from all over as well. Utah, California, Minnesota and Wyoming were some of the places they mentioned being from. They get the food from farmers and locals who donate it. Very hippie, very nice. They were generous and let me photograph their rad bus!
Monday, August 17, 2009
(A project) Looking Up: Noticing the Everday Unnoticeables
I have been inspired to do a photography project within my blog. I am not sure yet of it's frequency, but I do know the angle I am going to take. It is going to start out with simply taking photographs of things that are Up. It has come to my attention that I often walk around looking down, at feet, the sidewalk or stare vacantly forward--absent mindedly missing many amazing and small beauties every day. I have also noticed that many people do this. How many times have you walked along the same street only to one day too see a sign that you've never seen before? "Hey! Look at that sign--is that new?" only to have your wonderfully loyal friend say, "Uh, really? That's been there since we got to school...3 years ago." Hmmmm. Thus, my project! I hope you will enjoy it. This time around there are quite a few photos, I would imagine they will not be in such abundence in the future. Cheers!
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