Coney Island Summers

Coney Island is as gaudy, tacky, trashy, offensive and irresistable as you might think. Ron and I paid a visit there on Sunday. It was a very rainy day, but my heart was set on it, and I only have a week left in New York. Also, it's kind of nice to be near the ocean when it's raining, I think. So, we sat on a smelly, humid New York subway train for one hour. We perked up immediately, however, when we got off the train and smelled the fresh ocean air. Invigorating! Our first stop was Nathan's, a mega-famous hot-dog joint. Nathan's has been around since 1892, and it hosts the annual Fourth of July hot-dog eating contest. In 2001, a Japanese man ate 50, setting a new record. I hate hot dogs, so I had a hamburger and fries. It was truly delicious! The fries were the crinkle-cut kind, and I was fully satisfied. After Nathan's, Ron and I headed to the boardwalk for a nice stroll. It was just drizzling at this point, and there were a lot of people around, some even frolicking in the ocean! We walked by the "Shoot the Freak" game, in which you can shoot at a human target. The "freak" wasn't on his pedestal, but as I stopped to take a picture of the sign the carnie who runs the attraction said, "You want to shoot the freak? He's around, hold on I'll get him." I declined. Another carnie, who ran one of those horse-racing games, held up a sign between games that said "Big Ass Prizes."

There are a lot of rides at Coney Island, and they are all basically of the Ex variety. They are also expensive ($5 per ride! per person!) so Ron and I chose one, the Wonder Wheel. I thought it would give us a nice view of the island. The ride was kinda lame, but we did notice a preponderance of mobile homes tucked among the rides, leading us to believe that the carnies live on-site. And have no doubt about it my friends, Coney Island is staffed entirely by carnies. After our two cursory spins around the wheel, we hit the fairgrounds again, and ducked into a circus sideshow because it was raining heavily. The sideshow had all the standard sideshow acts - a woman who eats fire, a man who hammers nails into his nose, a woman who swallows swords and then contorts her body inside a box as the box is filled with more swords, a woman who can channel electricity through her body, and a woman who does an erotic dance with a DEADLY boa constrictor. There was also a "wolf" man from Mexico, who has a genetic condition that causes him to grow hair all over his face. His talent was tightrope walking, but it serves mainly as a justification for staring at his face. I was already feeling uncomfortable with this whole sideshow business, but that sealed the deal; I had to leave. And that was pretty much the end of our day at Coney Island. We hopped on the N train and rode it ALL THE WAY to the end of the line, to Queens. We travelled through 3 boroughs! It took forever, but it was worth it, because in Queens our friends Risa and Jeff kindly fed us stir-fry and sushi. That's right, we ate sushi! No fish though, TG.

Teaching Young Americans about Canada

Last Friday I took the ferry to Staten Island to visit PS 57, a public elementary school. I was scheduled to meet with two groups of kids in the after-school program, ranging from Grade 1 through 5. I had spent a lot of time preparing my presentation. I was going to tell them how Canada got its name, and discuss how important the beaver was to early trade. I'd gloss over the bits about colonialism, exploitation and how the beaver was killed for its pelts. I would tell them about hockey and lacrosse - a sport invented by the First Nations peoples, didja know? I planned to teach them Frere Jacques in English and French, and pass around loonies and twoonies while telling them how Canadians used to get a kick out of popping the centre out of the twoonie, and how the loonie has been considered lucky ever since someone placed one under the ice at the 2002 Olympic games, and the men's and the women's team won gold. So many stories! Well, it turned out that I prepared way too much material, because the kids were interested in other things. Like, do we have pizza in Canada? How about hamburgers? How long does it take to walk there? How do you get maple syrup from trees? (Luckily I had looked into this, just in case it came up. I also told them that kids in Canada pour sap on fresh snow and eat it; does anyone remember doing that?) The kids were a bit rowdy, as might be expected at 4.30 on a Friday afternoon, and erupted continously in chaotic chatter. Their supervisors were a bit ambivalent, and spent more time on their cellphones than paying attention to the kids, so it was left to me to commander their attention with hoarse calls of "Don't you want me to tell you something about CANADA?" But, it was a lot of fun, and the kids were pretty enthusiastic. The best part was how gung-ho they were about answering questions. Every single kid clamored to be called on, even if they had absolutely nothing to say once I chose them. One kid in particular shot his hand high up into the air after every question. I called on him a couple of times and couldn't figure out why he just smiled beatifically. The other kids let me in on the deal. "Carlos doesn't speak ANY English," they said witheringly. You still have to admire the spirit. Another kid was obviously very bright and asked me tough questions about Canada's relationship with Britain and past struggles over territory. I hadn't Wikapedia'ed that stuff! Two other kids slept the entire time. But, it was a real blast and I hope I get to do it again before I move back home. I'll pepper my spiel with stories about poutine and cartoons so I'll be sure to be a hit.

My Brush with a Psycho

On Saturday night Lyndsay and I had a party. It was awesome! A ton of people came and it was very pleasant. There was an added benefit - the guys who run the barbershop next door, Don Juan, were hosting a street party in honour of the de la Hoya boxing match. Two parties in one! They projected the fight onto the wall of Fine Fare, the grocery store across the street. It was just like being in Zoran's basement, but outside! There were about a hundred people gathered on the street, watching the fight, boozing and cheering. I headed downstairs to survey the mayhem, and I took a couple of photos of the projected fight. As I was taking a picture, this enormous man walked into the frame, and freaked out. "That's a federal offense!" he screamed (it's perfectly legal to take photos of people in public space, by the way). "Delete it! Delete it!" So, of course I deleted it. But he wasn't satisfied, and he flashed this totally phony badge that said "Tactical...something". A federal agent, apparently! I wasn't quite sure how to read the situation; I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. Then he forcibly took my camera from my hands, and gave it to his friend, who started going through my pictures. I thought they were going to steal my camera. The guy couldn't figure out how to delete the photos, so the psycho took my camera and took out the memory card. "Take the photos off the camera!" he demanded. "They're on the memory card, which is in your hand," I explained. Try explaining how digital cameras work to a psycho. He was convinced that the photos were not only on the card but in the camera itself. He demanded to see my ID, which I didn't have and wouldn't have shown him anyway. So, then he held up his cell phone and took a photo of ME! I would have appreciated the irony if I wasn't so unsettled by the whole experience. As he took my photo he said, "I'm going to do biometrics on this", meaning that since I refused to show him ID he would find out who I was through biometrics! Sinister! So I started laughing because that was the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Imagine scanning my pupils from that cell phone pic and hunting me down. But, then he started yelling, "you think that's funny? That's not funny!" So I got my camera back (thank god!) and ran upstairs. It was a very bizarre situation but at least it made a good story for the party.

On a more positive note, I went to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden this weekend to see the blossoming cherry trees. This garden has the most cherry trees outside of Japan. It was amazing. I'll post some pics as soon as Joseph comes to New York to fix my computer this weekend. Til then, stay safe!

My Neighbourhood

The man who owns this bike is a fixture in my neighbourhood. Sometimes he parks it while he has lunch in the Puerto Rican restaurant. Other times he hangs out in front of the neighbourhood deli while he blasts some tunes - there's a boombox hidden in among those stuffed animals, if you can believe it. One other thing that is cool about my neighbourhood is the barbershop next to my apartment. It's called Don Juan. It's more of a social club than a barbershop. There are always a ton of guys there, hanging out. They watch movies, they chat, they play the Cops theme song really loudly (you know, bad boy bad boy, whatcha gonna do when they come for you), and on Fridays they drink Coronas. They're pretty nice guys. What else - there's Sale Price Liquor, which is a liquor store that you can't actually go into. You have to order through a bulletproof window. There's no chance of perusing the selection! If you know absolutely nothing about wine, like me, you just have to trust their selection when you ask for something white that is under ten dollars. They won't let you down!

The best falafel and hummus is at Cafe Rakka. Lyndsay and I are their best customers because Lyndsay goes through forty ounces of hummus a day. Sometimes, if I go in there and they haven't seen her in a while, they ask me about her in a very concerned manner. Joseph, one of the Rakka staff, quit recently so that he could concentrate on his pharmacy exams. Before he left he made me a CD of his favourite Arabic music. See, I truly am a regular! Another place of note is Ninth Street Espresso, which makes the best coffee I have ever tasted. It has this vague chocolately taste which I love. They take their coffee very seriously. They wear plaid and converse, play indie music and make latte art. You get the sense that everyone who works there is from the Pacific Northwest.

Oh, how could I almost forget Olivio's Fashions! It is a truly unique store. Half of the store is dedicated to video games and related paraphenlia, and the other half is dedicated to ladies' fashions, Avon products and knitting patterns. One time I bought a pair of tights there for a buck. They sell the kind of clothes you might imagine when you hear the phrase "ladies' fashions" - old-lady bras in boxes, dowdy skirts, one-dollar pantyhose. I still haven't figured this place out because I can't imagine how they ever turn a profit.

The only con to my neighbourhood is that there is dog poo everywhere, and this is true of New York generally. So I guess there are no cons. It's utopia! I love it here.

Philadelphia, PA

So I took the train to Philadelphia last week for a Fulbright seminar. I had no idea that Philadelphia was such a historically important city. It was the first capital of the USA, the site of the first White House, and the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence were signed here. Wikipedia makes the following claim: "The city was the geographic center of the 18th century thinking and activity that gave birth to the American Revolution and subsequent American democracy and independence." Impressive! It is a very beautiful city, although it has some problems characteristic of many US cities: high poverty levels, racial segregation, troubled public school system, etcetera. Oh, and it is the homicide capital of the U.S. (New York City, by the way, is the fourth-safest city in the States - phew!)

Back to schools for a second - there are some schools in Philadelphia in which 100% of the students live beneath the poverty line. We got to visit public schools as part of the seminar, so that we could teach them about our countries (none of the students were all that interested in Canada, although the whole free health care deal always impresses). I visited the Philadelphia High School for Girls, which has been around since 1848 and is one of only two single-gender public schools in the States. Despite being hugely underfunded, the school has some amazing programs, including a ceramics studio and yoga!

The seminar was a lot of fun. There were about 160 students there, from all over the world. I learned a ton about the world in 4 days - about the civil war in Angola, the current situation in Afghanistan, ethnic rivalries in Pakistan, etc. I was lightly teasing one of my friends about his endless collection of University of Delaware sweatshirts - he wore a different one every day, and I made some comment about how he must be very enthusiastic about the school - and he told me that he lost everything in the tsunami. He's from Indonesia, and he lived 3 km from the ocean. So, needless to say, it was pretty crazy to hear about stories like that.

One of the best parts was the night when we were divided into small groups, and local Philadelphians hosted us for dinner. My hosts were this amazing middle-aged couple who took us to a French bistro. After dinner, they took us to Christ Church, which dates back to 1695. George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Betsy Ross and many other notable figures worshipped here. The husband works in preservation for the church, and he took us into the archives and showed us a letter that George Washington sent to the church's reverend in 1799. Definitely a behind-the-scenes tour! We also did the standard stuff - the Liberty Bell (no big deal), the Philadelphia Art Museum (yes, we walked up and down the "Rocky" steps; pictured) and had Philly cheese steaks (delicious!)

On the last night, we had a dinner cruise on the "Liberty Belle", although I don't know if the word "cruise" is apt because the boat never left the harbour. It was free booze until 9 p.m. and the dance floor was raging by 8. You would think that, having just met, people would be a little restrained on the dance floor, but that was not the case. It was nuts! I've never seen so many people dance so intensely, except maybe the time that Nada, Jasmine and I went to the craziest club ever, Bulldog in Mexico City. That place was so nuts that people's sweat dripped down on us from the floors above. This was kind of the same, but on a much smaller scale.

One other cool thing about Philadelphia is that it is covered in over than 2500 murals. These murals are the result of a Mural Arts program, initially started in the 80s to encourage graffiti artists to create more "productive" public art. Don't know if it put a stop to graffiti but the murals are really amazing.

OK, hope that's enough fascinating information about Philadelphia for this week!

No words

This is a photo of Zoran, Angela, me, Ron and Sara at Zoran and Angela's Christmas party (2006). We arrived late, after most of the guests had left. At the time I was disappointed that I had missed most of the party (the Gatalos throw the best parties) but in hindsight it is fortunate, because it allowed us to have a long, uninterrupted conversation with Zoran and Angela that I will always remember so happily. We talked a lot about New York, and Angela listened with great enthusiasm to Ron's regurgitation of everything he learned about Japan in an undergraduate history class. If you know Ron, I am sure you have heard this spiel many, many times (kamikazes! Shintoism!). I visited Zoran and Angela one more time while I was home for Christmas, and we had cappucinos in the kitchen and another long, leisurely talk. I wish I had photos of that visit, as well.

Zoran sent me this photo the other day, to post, and at first I thought I would post it alone, without words, because all the words I could think of seemed insufficient. They still do, because a few simple lines can never do justice to Angela, and what she meant to everyone who knew her. So I will leave it at this, in hopes of not subjecting memories and love to mere words that can never say enough.

Something to keep in mind