So this never got posted. I’ve been traveling the past two weeks and I thought I would have so much down time I would catch up on old posts that I’ve been meaning to get up, but it seems that free-wifi has gone the way of the dinosaurs – or maybe it was just a fable that I forgot never existed anyway. So, here’s what I thought about posting two weeks ago when I arrived, and I am now posting as I leave the US (Tampa, nice old Florida airport, kindly still offers free wifi…) So sorry for the backwards posting….
Sept. 4th:
Well, I’m on my way to New York for a week to go to my dear friend’s wedding. I have a couple of blogs that I’ve been meaning to post but got behind on. Hopefully I’ll have a little time to catch up now. It’s been a year and a half since I last visited the United States – as I write this I’m sitting in Washington Dulles waiting for a connecting flight. The flight from Rio to Washington was 10 hours. I don’t remember it being so long in the past. I’m wondering if its like a car and flying slower saves on fuel.
There is a strange transformation that happens on the overnight flights from Brazil. This slide from Portuguese to English. You go through check-in, security, boarding, the shuffling of bags in the overheads and the negotiations for the armrest in Portuguese. The staff start out conversing mostly in Portuguese and somewhere around the time when the dinner service comes through you suddenly have a choice of frango or chicken. Then the movie starts, and you have a choice of Portuguese or English versions and then you drift in and out of sleep dreaming some in both language, hearing pieces of conversations in both, and at some point during the night everyone on the flight slowly slides into English and you tumble out of the plane and into the airport at 6am, blinking like a bug eyed marsupial in the bright fluorescents and the immigration officials are shouting orders in English (some of it heavily accented) and your fellow Brazilian travelers are suddenly quieted and they turn to one another for reassurance and confirmation that they are doing the right thing.
The smatterings of Portuguese conversations continue through baggage claim and customs and you might once or twice get confused and ask for where the nearest Starbucks is in Portuguese. But upon finding it, you know you are home and you excitedly start speaking English to who ever will listen to you, slurping on your grown-up sippy cup and telling them that you forgot how strong Starbucks is and sort of burnt tasting too. And you are suddenly struck by how nice everyone is. American niceness. English speaking niceness. Brazilians are nice too, but it’s different. Tottering down the concourse, someone suddenly changes direction in front of you and you bump into each other and he actually apologizes. This catches you so off guard that blubber, no, no it’s okay and you feel like hugging him, and you are so happy to be home that when the gate agent says “Hi how are you today” you feel like hugging her too, the gate agent.
But then you get on your flight to LaGuardia and the people behind you are speaking Polish or Russian (you never could tell them apart) and someone else is speaking Spanish and the flight attendants have accents and when you get there your cab driver will probably be Pakistani (which of course is a stereotype, but it will probably be true) but it’s unlikely that you will get a cab because you are still a cheapskate so you’ll get on the Q33 bus and catch the F train and it will be the same dirty orange bucket seat train that you were taking 15 years ago and there will be the same faces, the jaded hipster girl, the geeky writer guy in wrinkled khakis, and the balding Indian guy, probably a tech worker here on an H-1B visa, and the art school kid in skinny jeans reading Jules Verne, and the Puerto Rican kid in an askew Yankee’s cap and the bucktooth Chinese woman who smells like salted fish and every other possible ethnicity or combination of ethnicities it will all come back to you and you will realize you are back not just in the United States, but unquestionably home in New York, and you will love it and hate it in equal measure just like always.
Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts
In need of a schmear
So I’ve been in a missing New York mood lately. The past couple of days I’ve been listening to WNYC radio on the web and wondering what spring is like there. I heard it was warm this weekend and I started thinking back about all the early warm weekend spring mornings in Brooklyn when you finally realize you made it through another cold dirty winter. Spring fever hits and you get all excited and overcome that you might miss the cherry blossoms in the Brooklyn Botanical or the magnolia tree in the Shakespeare Garden in Central Park. East Village streets are suddenly a colorful show of one-upmanship individuality, and you tear through your closets and haul big bags to the Salvation Army and make numerous stops at H&M (and secretly to Forever 21 and Urban Outfitters although you rarely mention this to anyone) and you start making plans for your summer escapes, and the Mermaid parade is just around the corner and the Prospect Park and Summer Stage schedules are out and 4th of July is a hit or miss depending on your motivation to find or throw a good party and the summer will be too hot and seem endless and it will be over before you know it.
I also made bagels in my New Yorkerishness. They came out like rocks.
But I know the truth and it isn’t that I’m homesick for New York -- at least not the real New York. I might say I was homesick for the myth of New York were it not for the fact that I know what the real problem is. It isn't that I want to be there (or the there of my hand-colored memories) it's that I don’t know how to be here. I have a pretty hard time just sitting still and enjoying where I am now. I have a world of possibilities in my lap. It’s not often in your life that you get a start from scratch moment, and even rarer that you have the time and freedom to actually do something with the moment. All I'm doing is finding ways to avoid it. I have a list of potential projects to get started and I procrastinate and dodge around the issues. Right now I should be putting together information for an Ayurveda workshop. A real basic introduction, but I want to make it good of course so I’m combining over books and even the Upanishads but I have to organize my notes, and translate them into Portuguese, and make up some handouts – and I have to do it before I leave on April 12th for two weeks at the yoga school down south.
And I’m not sure if I even want to be teaching yoga, (or related) – or if I really do like teaching and I’m just resisting because the language thing takes a lot of work and I’m lazy, or if I really just want to focus on other things, and just teach a little on the side (I would say keep it on the side just for the extra income, except it doesn’t pay CRAP.)
C and I have submitted a proposal for a film to a festival of shorts. We have to have it shot and edited and ready to go by the end of May – it’s only going to be 15 minutes or so. We’re going to use Geralda as the subject matter of the film, but deal also with American vs Brazilian attitudes towards maids and class and poverty. Well, that’s the idea anyway – and if it is ever going to be a reality, I need to stop messing around and post this and start preparing a production schedule and script….
TODAY - and everything in between (almost)
Okay, so I want to move on and forward. I am too lazy to cull through the old emails, and honestly, I don’t have much interest in reading about it, so I can’t imagine who else would. Besides, I’m ready to move on and write about what this was really intended for – my day to day observations and experiences about living here in Brazil. But just for the sake of being somewhat thorough, I’ll try to re-cap of what has happened since October and Carnegie Hall. Can’t promise it will be either interesting or short, but I’ll try.
First off, it was great to go back to New York in October as it kept the looming specter of homesickness somewhat off balance. But it was also a little hard. C rehearsed 12 hours a day and stayed mostly uptown in the Bronx. I lived off E’s couch in Brooklyn which was great. She gave me a home base from which to run around and catch up with people and take a lot of yoga classes – the awesome Jasmine and Dana at Laughing Lotus gave me a vip pass for the time I was there – and seeing as how tight money was, it seemed the very best option for spending my time. Practicing yoga and not spending money. I guess it was hard in the sense that it rained a lot, C and I didn’t have cell phones – imagine! – and it was just weird being only a little bit gone from NYC, but not entirely a stranger. It felt familiar and un-rooted, like home but homeless. Friends were going on about their lives and business and there I was rattling around for attention, a tourist, but not really. I listened to a lot of Brazilian music on my ipod (the Apple store actually replaced the one I broke in Brazil with a brand new one, one very wet rainy day – wonders never cease!) and was actually a little homesick for some Portuguese. It was really really great to see my mom and hubby F who came into town for a little business, but mostly for me.
(For all of my dearest friends who I didn’t see while I was there, I apologize. If you remember, it rained almost non-stop last October, which seriously impeded my getting around. Being broke I spent a good bit of time with a friend in Connecticut and stayed close to E's couch, till mom got here, then I freeloaded off her. I promise next visit back I'll be in touch with all!)
C and I got back at the end October and I spent a couple of weeks readjusting. Our apartment renovations finally wrapped up with the installation of cabinets in our kitchen and bathrooms. Not without a hitch though. The day of the kitchen cabinet installations, the workers didn’t read the apartment schematic correctly and drilled right into the water main pipe above the shut off valve.. The kitchen got flooded before we could figure out how to shut the water off for the whole building. Our neighbors loved us… A plumber was called but all the cabinets had to be uninstalled and left to dry before being rehung. A pain, but what can I say – in the end it’s the most beautiful kitchen I’ve ever had. I unpacked all my dishes and kitchen stuff, had plenty of room for everything and still have cabinets left over!
Thanksgiving isn’t a holiday here so that came and went sadly un-noticed. Well not quite. I had loosely planned to host our first dinner party the weekend before thanksgiving, but a bunch of people cancelled at the last minute and I moved the party to the following Friday, the day after thanksgiving. So it felt like a substitute. Indian food is barely known here as there are virtually no Indian immigrants. I had brought a bunch of Indian spices and food stuff back from New York, so I cooked a big dinner with chutneys and curries. We didn’t have any furniture in our living/dining area (still don’t as of writing this) so everyone sat on the floor on an old tapestry. I lit a bunch of candles and played some Indian ragas and made it a very themed event. It went over mostly well, except that I forgot to add salt to the basmati rice and it tasted bland, especially for Brazilians where lack of salt in food is a serious culinary violation. I think they have more salt in their blood than there is in the sea.
Christmas was nothing special -- I kept it that way so I wouldn't get too homesick. Spent Christmas Eve with friends Paulo and Monica at her “sitio” which basically is a term for a small peace of land in the country, usually 2 – 10 acres, that city folk use as weekend get away houses. Bigger pieces of land are called “fazendas” or farms but people also use them for weekend country homes. Christmas day I made pancakes and C and I exchanged presents. I told him that because neither of us were yet making money, and I didn’t know my way around very well that I would like us to make presents for each other. So I wrote him a song. Just lyrics, not music as I have zero talent in that department. It was fun and inspiring to write. I hope to do more. He gave me a skirt and top which I have only worn once, on Christmas, recalling for those of you who might remember, the fiasco over the “stupid hat” present I gave to him some years back – he ran out of time to make anything apparently. But I like it, as his taste is generally (not specifically) good.
We held New Years Eve on our terrace. I poured over old Gourmet and Bon App’s and Epicurious.com to find hors d’oeuvres recipes and made a bunch of good stuff. Couldn’t have been a more beautiful starlit night. We showed films on our big white wall and everyone ate and drank way too much. New Years day we continued the party at Max's sito with a pool side bbq. Brazilians are very serious when it comes to grilling meat as anyone who's ever been to a Brazilain "churrasqueira" restaurant knows -- it's meat meat and more meat. I brought eggplant and zuchinni to grill and people actually thought I was joking. Here's C's mom and me looking a little tired after cleaning up from the previous night's festivities.
C’s mom was here visiting for most of the month of January. It was really great to have her here. I think she is a lama or Buddha reincarnated. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone like her. She’s calm, kind, positive and always in a good mood. I’ve never seen her get angry or excited or complain about anything. She’s gentle and sweet and everyone loves to be near her. I feel like a big warty mean ogre around her most of the time. This was especially made true during her last visit as C and I had a blow out fight one night in our room and in his anger at me stormed upstairs into her room and vented. Blessedly she really is a little Buddha and didn’t judge me at all. I think she realized that her normally peaceful son was just spouting off in frustration. She left for a week to visit her older son who lives in São Paulo and had just adopted a baby boy, and when she returned it was like nothing had ever happened. I of course stressed about her return the whole week and cried and brow beat myself and C for the fight, but it was of course completely unnecessary angst. I really hope we can spend more time with her during our time here in Brazil and that I can learn from her. I can probably learn more from this simple little woman that from many illustrious yogi’s.
The last week in January was probably the best week yet here in Brazil. We went for 10 days to a 300 year old city about 2 hours from us for a film festival. However, this post is getting way too long and probably boring. So more on Tiradentes later.
First off, it was great to go back to New York in October as it kept the looming specter of homesickness somewhat off balance. But it was also a little hard. C rehearsed 12 hours a day and stayed mostly uptown in the Bronx. I lived off E’s couch in Brooklyn which was great. She gave me a home base from which to run around and catch up with people and take a lot of yoga classes – the awesome Jasmine and Dana at Laughing Lotus gave me a vip pass for the time I was there – and seeing as how tight money was, it seemed the very best option for spending my time. Practicing yoga and not spending money. I guess it was hard in the sense that it rained a lot, C and I didn’t have cell phones – imagine! – and it was just weird being only a little bit gone from NYC, but not entirely a stranger. It felt familiar and un-rooted, like home but homeless. Friends were going on about their lives and business and there I was rattling around for attention, a tourist, but not really. I listened to a lot of Brazilian music on my ipod (the Apple store actually replaced the one I broke in Brazil with a brand new one, one very wet rainy day – wonders never cease!) and was actually a little homesick for some Portuguese. It was really really great to see my mom and hubby F who came into town for a little business, but mostly for me.
(For all of my dearest friends who I didn’t see while I was there, I apologize. If you remember, it rained almost non-stop last October, which seriously impeded my getting around. Being broke I spent a good bit of time with a friend in Connecticut and stayed close to E's couch, till mom got here, then I freeloaded off her. I promise next visit back I'll be in touch with all!)
C and I got back at the end October and I spent a couple of weeks readjusting. Our apartment renovations finally wrapped up with the installation of cabinets in our kitchen and bathrooms. Not without a hitch though. The day of the kitchen cabinet installations, the workers didn’t read the apartment schematic correctly and drilled right into the water main pipe above the shut off valve.. The kitchen got flooded before we could figure out how to shut the water off for the whole building. Our neighbors loved us… A plumber was called but all the cabinets had to be uninstalled and left to dry before being rehung. A pain, but what can I say – in the end it’s the most beautiful kitchen I’ve ever had. I unpacked all my dishes and kitchen stuff, had plenty of room for everything and still have cabinets left over!
Thanksgiving isn’t a holiday here so that came and went sadly un-noticed. Well not quite. I had loosely planned to host our first dinner party the weekend before thanksgiving, but a bunch of people cancelled at the last minute and I moved the party to the following Friday, the day after thanksgiving. So it felt like a substitute. Indian food is barely known here as there are virtually no Indian immigrants. I had brought a bunch of Indian spices and food stuff back from New York, so I cooked a big dinner with chutneys and curries. We didn’t have any furniture in our living/dining area (still don’t as of writing this) so everyone sat on the floor on an old tapestry. I lit a bunch of candles and played some Indian ragas and made it a very themed event. It went over mostly well, except that I forgot to add salt to the basmati rice and it tasted bland, especially for Brazilians where lack of salt in food is a serious culinary violation. I think they have more salt in their blood than there is in the sea.
Christmas was nothing special -- I kept it that way so I wouldn't get too homesick. Spent Christmas Eve with friends Paulo and Monica at her “sitio” which basically is a term for a small peace of land in the country, usually 2 – 10 acres, that city folk use as weekend get away houses. Bigger pieces of land are called “fazendas” or farms but people also use them for weekend country homes. Christmas day I made pancakes and C and I exchanged presents. I told him that because neither of us were yet making money, and I didn’t know my way around very well that I would like us to make presents for each other. So I wrote him a song. Just lyrics, not music as I have zero talent in that department. It was fun and inspiring to write. I hope to do more. He gave me a skirt and top which I have only worn once, on Christmas, recalling for those of you who might remember, the fiasco over the “stupid hat” present I gave to him some years back – he ran out of time to make anything apparently. But I like it, as his taste is generally (not specifically) good.
We held New Years Eve on our terrace. I poured over old Gourmet and Bon App’s and Epicurious.com to find hors d’oeuvres recipes and made a bunch of good stuff. Couldn’t have been a more beautiful starlit night. We showed films on our big white wall and everyone ate and drank way too much. New Years day we continued the party at Max's sito with a pool side bbq. Brazilians are very serious when it comes to grilling meat as anyone who's ever been to a Brazilain "churrasqueira" restaurant knows -- it's meat meat and more meat. I brought eggplant and zuchinni to grill and people actually thought I was joking. Here's C's mom and me looking a little tired after cleaning up from the previous night's festivities.
C’s mom was here visiting for most of the month of January. It was really great to have her here. I think she is a lama or Buddha reincarnated. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone like her. She’s calm, kind, positive and always in a good mood. I’ve never seen her get angry or excited or complain about anything. She’s gentle and sweet and everyone loves to be near her. I feel like a big warty mean ogre around her most of the time. This was especially made true during her last visit as C and I had a blow out fight one night in our room and in his anger at me stormed upstairs into her room and vented. Blessedly she really is a little Buddha and didn’t judge me at all. I think she realized that her normally peaceful son was just spouting off in frustration. She left for a week to visit her older son who lives in São Paulo and had just adopted a baby boy, and when she returned it was like nothing had ever happened. I of course stressed about her return the whole week and cried and brow beat myself and C for the fight, but it was of course completely unnecessary angst. I really hope we can spend more time with her during our time here in Brazil and that I can learn from her. I can probably learn more from this simple little woman that from many illustrious yogi’s.
The last week in January was probably the best week yet here in Brazil. We went for 10 days to a 300 year old city about 2 hours from us for a film festival. However, this post is getting way too long and probably boring. So more on Tiradentes later.
Carnegie Hall, NYC
Pretty damn cool. Yeah, that's my man, playing the Steinway.... (that's the beautiful Morley singing -- she's Ernesto's beloved, he's on the right. )
And my man again in the middle rocking the classical gee-tar.
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