New York blows.
30 May, 2006If California is a warm smile and a handshake, New York is a swift kick in the balls.
I’ve been here all of 12 hours, and I have to say my experiences have been taxing.
My bags were way too heavy for me, so I had to tip a porter to heft them around for me—worth every penny!
The cab ride would have been a horror, had it not been for the fact that I was completely sleep-deprived and delirious; everything seemed like a dream. Though I napped for about an hour on the flight over, I managed to get all my med-math reading done and I think that if I go over it a couple more times, acing the test this week shouldn’t be all that impossible.However, it’s just like Seinfeld says—there are things you observe from the back of a New York cab that somehow detach you from the reality that you’re in a car speeding along surface streets at 70+ mph. There was one moment in which I was sure we were going to sideswipe a bus, but I was too tired to care—it’s been a long time since my last all-nighter and I was out of practice!
Of course, when I got here, it was so early that I had to wait for someone from the University housing to show up for work (at 9 am.) No one ever knows what’s going on, and no one ever told me I was supposed to call ahead of time to tell them when I was arriving—all they said was “check in NO SOONER THAN the 30th,” and I did. Because it also said “mandatory orientation on the 31st.” Not much choice there.I sat in a sort of 1930’s institutional kitchen-esque thing, that reminded me of a cross between the set of the galley in “The Shining” and the institution in that movie Steve lent me, about the school for girls, run by evil nuns (are there any other kind?)
So, I must have been a bit overwhelmed, because I called home to tell George that I had arrived at 50 Haven Avenue intact, and when he answered I started to cry and couldn’t talk. I was ready to come home—why had I ever done this—what’s wrong with me to think of coming to New York…etc. It all hit me at once—the moment everyone kept saying “it hasn’t hit you yet.” Well, it hit me, all right.
I think I was just overly tired, and dreading the year before me. Feeling detached, unwanted, insignificant, and set adrift on the sea of discourtesy that is Gotham, I was feeling sorry for myself. It was not quite 8 am, and it was somewhere close to 80 degrees outside—my clothes were sticking to me, I was carrying way too much stuff, and I was crabby.
(San Francisco—if I never said it before (as if! I say it daily, baby, but this time I truly feel it) I love you!!!)
So, I must have dozed off after my call to G, because they woke me with a card to sign, and keys to a room, and I just signed (it could have been anything and I would have signed it) and came upstairs to the fourth floor to see my unique little room.
I have the only room on the floor with a bathroom—this isn’t a coincidence—I asked for it, because I faint when taking a hot shower, and all they assigned me to a room with a sink, and gang showers down the hall. I did this at Cal Poly for a couple of semesters, and you get used to it—but this time, with MS, I knew I couldn’t be standing in a hot shower and passing out. So, when I informed them of this problem I have, they were gracious enough to pull some strings and accommodate me with the bathroom. Of course, the trade off is that the room itself is 8x12, a small cell, and they must have painted the room for me too, because the stench of oil-based paint is overwhelming. I get a headache within the hour of returning “home.” All the light switches, electrical sockets, window frames and the medicine cabinet are painted over, and you have to work hard to get them free of several generations worth of paint.
I’m sitting here with my itty bitty laptop, and the wireless keyboard and mouse (hey! Finally, I got something to work!!! Even if I can’t get the Internet to work (There’s always tomorrow!) writing in Word what I will eventually copy/paste to my blog.
I went out to reconnoiter the surrounding area—doing a periphery sweep of one block radius, then branching outward to see what there was to see. I found several useful places on Broadway—a hardware store, a small grocery (akin to a truck-stop grocery—the very basic necessities) several drug stores and the like.
There’s a Mc Donald’s, and a Como Pizza (which struck me as funny, because in Spanish, “como pizza” means “I eat pizza” which made me laugh because, I surely do!)
That brings me to the other thing about this neighborhood—it’s blowing my mind! All the Black people speak Spanish—EVERYONE you pass on the street is speaking Spanish! It sounds a bit like Puerto Rican, or Cuban dialect to me, but I can’t really tell—it’s very different than the Mexican dialect we hear back in California.
Because I’m so Anglo-looking (to them) they never suspect that I know what they are talking about, and I won’t lie--it is sort of interesting to overhear what they’re saying about me. (insert Norman Bates-like smile here.)
In all, I know that this area is not representative, by itself, of New York. But it’s my first real flavor of NY and I gotta say, it’s blowing my mind.
My Radio Shack thermometer/hygrometer reads 90.5 degrees outside, 55% humidity, and a nice 80 degrees inside—I’m ashamed to say that I’ve had to have the AC on since I got here—It was unbearable! Outside, the heat is horrific and it’s worse when walking past the AC units of other buildings—the heat gets pumped outside while inside they’re completely refrigerated. I’d tough it out with open windows and a fan were it not for the MS, but the heat wipes me out now. So the ozone will just have to forgive me as I destroy it a little more—Someone pointed out to me that I don’t drive here, I walk, so I’m trading off in that sense—no greenhouse gases and exhaust fumes for 8 weeks, that’ sgot to be worth something.
Since I arrived I’ve eaten cookies, bananas, and bread that were not organic. I’ve had to buy water in a plastic bottle (GASP!!!) until I can figure out a way to adapt the bathroom water faucet to the super cool solid block carbon filter I have—good luck with THAT! I’ve also realized, sadly, that there is absolutely no concern for recycling here in this city—everything, EVERYTHING is thrown out—the bath water AND the baby…it’s heart breaking.
In the last 24 hours, I have enjoyed about two hours sleep (in about ½ hour increments, here and there) I’ve had an apple, a banana, some bread, (and a Budweiser that I got from the Rite Aid when I couldn’t resist the refrigerated promise of a cold beer, even if it was only a Budweiser!)
Tomorrow is a breakfast “welcome/orientation” where I hope to be well informed (and well-fed!) (hope all you want!) I have unpacked my bags, and gone out to survey the area twice—I guess I’m in for the night. Considering that it’s so hot out, and I’m nice and cool in here, yeah, I’m done for the night. Plus, this isn’t exactly the sort of area I would go traipsing along by myself after dark!
This reminds me of the first time I went to Barcelona. I was by myself and staying in a questionable area; I was afraid, being alone, of being out past dark. So, I often went back to my little hotel room around dusk—a room much smaller than even this one (and triangularly shaped!!) rinse out my things, and have a beer from the grocery store next door while I wrote in my journal, read the travel guide and planned the next day, or finished up my sketches and watercolors of the day’s wanderings.
Since I’m the sort that can’t just focus on the negative, here’s something that made my day today: everyone here is so medical! I was caught in a stream of med/nursing students coming back to this dorm from classes (I presume) all of them speaking their biological science talk, (really, the only non-Spanish you hear) and I was happy for the first time since leaving home. Academia pleases me so.
I will be better when classes actually start and I have more of a sense of belonging here—I guess I started crying this morning more from the utter fatigue and the being tired of the curtness with which New Yorkers treat one—they’re pretty savage.
On the whole—I would never live here.
San Fran is my home, and where I will always return though I may travel.
New York completely blows so far.
posted by sketchmonkey @ 4:11 PM
2 Comments:
Greets to the webmaster of this wonderful site. Keep working. Thank you.
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Super color scheme, I like it! Good job. Go on.
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