cultivate culture
Last weekend in New York was an amazing cultural experience. America is known as a cultural melting pot, with all of our diversity and immigration, but New York is perhaps the most concentrated example of this. My first day in Manhattan ended with a delicious lamb schwarma gyro from a Moroccan meals-on-wheels "roach coach". I went over there to buy a water bottle, and the man working inside immediately noticed my Hamsa earrings and Allah necklace. He said "where did you get those? Did you go to Morocco?" I was pleasantly surprised by this eclectic conversation-starter after my long and crazy day! I proceeded to tell him of my travels in the Middle East and throughout the Holy Land (in Arabic of course), particularly the Old City of Jerusalem where the jewelry was purchased. I had not had truly authentic Arab food since that time and was completely satisfied with the experience.
During my second day in New York I decided to venture to Brooklyn, hoping to see some of my Jewish people (I am 1/4 German Jew, and of course, lived in Israel). Now I can fully identify with the Beastie Boys song "No Sleep til Brooklyn" and fortunately I had a map to the hostel where I'd hoped to stay, courtesy of the man at the Tibet house. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by a man listening to a French radio station. I asked him if he was from France. He said yes, but that he had just moved from San Diego, driving cross country in his Jeep Cherokee and spending $800 in gas! We reminisced about San Diego for a few moments, agreeing that it is important to LEAVE there every once in a while - too easy to get caught up in whatever presents itself. So other than the debt created by the gas prices, he was enjoying New York, and helped me feel welcome in my temporary new Brooklyn home.
After dropping my stuff off (finally after 2 days of hauling it around everywhere) I hopped back on the Subway in search of the Turntables on the Hudson event at Gowanus Park in Brooklyn. Unfortunately on the way to the show the subway was diverted and everyone had to get off and board a "detour bus" - somewhere in the middle of Brooklyn! I had no idea where I was or what was going on, but in keeping with my ZEN paradigm, I just sat in the bus and took it all in. I was thankful I was safely seated inside a bus because the neighborhood seemed somewhat questionable, cars with the windows shot out and bad graffiti on many of the buildings and cars. At one point we passed what I called the "black pool", a public pool completely FILLED with dark dark black people. Shortly thereafter the bus stopped, and everyone was instructed to get off. I had no idea where I was, or how far I was from my destination, which was previously mapped from the hostel via the L and G trains - a sound path if it had availed itself to my needs. I began walking the streets, asking if anyone knew how to get to my destination. When the bus drivers didn't even know, I began to be a bit concerned.
I continued walking in the general direction of the event and decided to stop in a corner market to get some water. The men working in the store were all speaking in Arabic - I couldn't believe my ears! I asked one of them in English "where are you from"? He replied "Palestine!" I was startled - I could not remember the last time I heard someone refer to the Holy Land as "Palestine" per se, even in the Palestinian Territories! I asked him "aren't there a lot of Jews here? How is that?" I didn't want to give myself away. He replied, "this is America, we are all here." He didn't seem to understand my politically-charged statement but I was happy to hear that he favored our country for what it was - a cultural melting pot. Walking further and encountering another Arab place where I asked for directions, and still not seeing any Jews - I concluded that Brooklyn was more Arab and African-American than Jewish despite what I had always heard. Realizing that there was no way I would make the Turntables on the Hudson event, I headed to my next destination, the Brooklyn Bandshell in Prospect Park.
Navigating via buses and subways which WERE actually running, I found the venue thanks to my friend Derek's excellent directions. This was a show I did NOT want to miss - Karsh Kale and the Midival Punditz from India re-scored all of the music to the Bruce Lee film "Enter the Dragon." Opening for the film/music extravaganza was an amazing Japanese drumming group, complete with costumes, choreography, and drama. I had never seen anything like this, and was immensely satisfied with my $3 admission into the park. The sound of live drumming is so meditative and healing, and these Japanese rhythms were new to me and quite intense. At the intermission the show's sponsor the internationally-renowned corporation Starbucks was giving away free packs of their Pike's Peak roast. When the movie started, I grabbed a seat near the front - it was perhaps more important for me to see Indian electronic fusion legends Karsh Kale and the Midival Punditz in action, up close and personal. Their musical contributions to the already overwhelming excitement of the Bruce Lee movie made for a combination of sights and sounds from out of this world. After the show I chatted with Karsh, who I had met a few years prior at an event in San Diego and happily he remembered me! I posed for a photo with him, his daughter, and his niece and nephew, beautiful Indian children.
I later went on to an afterparty called Carmina Soul, for the Turntables on the Hudson show (which I did not attend due to the earlier Subway incident). The event featured Latin fusion and world groove with live percussion, on a rooftop in Brooklyn. There I was happy to see my friend Nickodemus who was preparing for a trip to Spain in the upcoming week. It was getting quite late and he advised me to NOT take the subway back to the hostel, for safety reasons and because of the wacky subway detour issues, so he ordered me a "car service". I had never heard of a car service, but understood it to be something like a cab without the meter. When the driver arrived he had no idea where my hostel was, and I had no idea where it was either, however I enjoyed the ride with him and the adventure in finding it. He was from Ecuador, and his Spanish was much different than any of the accents or dialects I had heard before. Of course when he realized I knew Spanish, we spoke it throughout most of the rest of our late-night drive through Brooklyn. In the morning I awoke to 2 girls speaking German in the bunkbed next to me, bringing back memories of my travels through Germany, which I proceeded to divulge to them. Of course the conversation started off with "Ich sprecha kein Deutsch", I don't speak German - one of the only things I learned to say in German while I was visiting their land!
I finally made it to the Center For Jewish History Museum on the third day, and spent about 2 hours there reminiscing about the Holy Land and learning more about the history of Jews immigrating to America. I spent most of rest of the day walking lower Manhattan (with my bags), from 16th and 6th through Soho, down Broadway, through Little Italy and Chinatown to the area just south of there, above Wall Street/Financial District. The walk seemed like nothing after drinking a Rockstar energy drink - and I was not interested in going back underground to the dark hot sticky subways, many of which were being re-routed all weekend. The sights and sounds throughout the city were priceless, and rounded out my overall amazing experience in the Big Apple. With Chinatown as my ultimate destination, I was looking forward to embracing their culture as it is one of my favorites. I finally arrived to Little Italy and then Chinatown after my long pleasant walk, greeted by the friendly dragon sculpture above the Chinatown information kiosk. After a bit of shopping I asked one of the locals which restaurant had the best duck soup. I was directed to number 72 and was completely satisfied with not only the food but the ambiance. I was seated at a table next to 2 local Chinese men, who were also eating roast duck, with side orders of squid and fried lamb.
My day's end drew near with a bus ride to the Staten Island Ferry dock where I stood in awe of the giant American flag hanging in the building's lobby - so thankful to be a citizen of this fine cultural mecca. I then boarded a subway back uptown in search of a quiet place to work for a few hours before another all-nighter until my plane's departure. I finally reached a Starbucks which to my dismay was closing at 9:30, and it was already 9:15! I asked the people there, "isn't there a place around here open LATE?" They said "not around here" but directed me to the 24 hour Starbucks in Times Square. So I hopped back on the subway, and when I emerged at 42nd street, Times Square was certainly a sight to behold! After experiencing the intensity of the terrain, I planted myself in Starbucks to get some work done before departing for the JFK airport. The evening was not complete until a young man studying nearby observed my computer activity and asked "are you a Professor?" I noticed he was logged into Facebook and I gathered he was a student, he told me he attended Columbia University. We engaged in a great conversation, in which I found out he was Japanese-Brazilian, so we spoke in Portuguese and reminisced about Brazil. Though I've traveled around the world, America is definitely the best place to cultivate culture.
During my second day in New York I decided to venture to Brooklyn, hoping to see some of my Jewish people (I am 1/4 German Jew, and of course, lived in Israel). Now I can fully identify with the Beastie Boys song "No Sleep til Brooklyn" and fortunately I had a map to the hostel where I'd hoped to stay, courtesy of the man at the Tibet house. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by a man listening to a French radio station. I asked him if he was from France. He said yes, but that he had just moved from San Diego, driving cross country in his Jeep Cherokee and spending $800 in gas! We reminisced about San Diego for a few moments, agreeing that it is important to LEAVE there every once in a while - too easy to get caught up in whatever presents itself. So other than the debt created by the gas prices, he was enjoying New York, and helped me feel welcome in my temporary new Brooklyn home.
After dropping my stuff off (finally after 2 days of hauling it around everywhere) I hopped back on the Subway in search of the Turntables on the Hudson event at Gowanus Park in Brooklyn. Unfortunately on the way to the show the subway was diverted and everyone had to get off and board a "detour bus" - somewhere in the middle of Brooklyn! I had no idea where I was or what was going on, but in keeping with my ZEN paradigm, I just sat in the bus and took it all in. I was thankful I was safely seated inside a bus because the neighborhood seemed somewhat questionable, cars with the windows shot out and bad graffiti on many of the buildings and cars. At one point we passed what I called the "black pool", a public pool completely FILLED with dark dark black people. Shortly thereafter the bus stopped, and everyone was instructed to get off. I had no idea where I was, or how far I was from my destination, which was previously mapped from the hostel via the L and G trains - a sound path if it had availed itself to my needs. I began walking the streets, asking if anyone knew how to get to my destination. When the bus drivers didn't even know, I began to be a bit concerned.
I continued walking in the general direction of the event and decided to stop in a corner market to get some water. The men working in the store were all speaking in Arabic - I couldn't believe my ears! I asked one of them in English "where are you from"? He replied "Palestine!" I was startled - I could not remember the last time I heard someone refer to the Holy Land as "Palestine" per se, even in the Palestinian Territories! I asked him "aren't there a lot of Jews here? How is that?" I didn't want to give myself away. He replied, "this is America, we are all here." He didn't seem to understand my politically-charged statement but I was happy to hear that he favored our country for what it was - a cultural melting pot. Walking further and encountering another Arab place where I asked for directions, and still not seeing any Jews - I concluded that Brooklyn was more Arab and African-American than Jewish despite what I had always heard. Realizing that there was no way I would make the Turntables on the Hudson event, I headed to my next destination, the Brooklyn Bandshell in Prospect Park.
Navigating via buses and subways which WERE actually running, I found the venue thanks to my friend Derek's excellent directions. This was a show I did NOT want to miss - Karsh Kale and the Midival Punditz from India re-scored all of the music to the Bruce Lee film "Enter the Dragon." Opening for the film/music extravaganza was an amazing Japanese drumming group, complete with costumes, choreography, and drama. I had never seen anything like this, and was immensely satisfied with my $3 admission into the park. The sound of live drumming is so meditative and healing, and these Japanese rhythms were new to me and quite intense. At the intermission the show's sponsor the internationally-renowned corporation Starbucks was giving away free packs of their Pike's Peak roast. When the movie started, I grabbed a seat near the front - it was perhaps more important for me to see Indian electronic fusion legends Karsh Kale and the Midival Punditz in action, up close and personal. Their musical contributions to the already overwhelming excitement of the Bruce Lee movie made for a combination of sights and sounds from out of this world. After the show I chatted with Karsh, who I had met a few years prior at an event in San Diego and happily he remembered me! I posed for a photo with him, his daughter, and his niece and nephew, beautiful Indian children.
I later went on to an afterparty called Carmina Soul, for the Turntables on the Hudson show (which I did not attend due to the earlier Subway incident). The event featured Latin fusion and world groove with live percussion, on a rooftop in Brooklyn. There I was happy to see my friend Nickodemus who was preparing for a trip to Spain in the upcoming week. It was getting quite late and he advised me to NOT take the subway back to the hostel, for safety reasons and because of the wacky subway detour issues, so he ordered me a "car service". I had never heard of a car service, but understood it to be something like a cab without the meter. When the driver arrived he had no idea where my hostel was, and I had no idea where it was either, however I enjoyed the ride with him and the adventure in finding it. He was from Ecuador, and his Spanish was much different than any of the accents or dialects I had heard before. Of course when he realized I knew Spanish, we spoke it throughout most of the rest of our late-night drive through Brooklyn. In the morning I awoke to 2 girls speaking German in the bunkbed next to me, bringing back memories of my travels through Germany, which I proceeded to divulge to them. Of course the conversation started off with "Ich sprecha kein Deutsch", I don't speak German - one of the only things I learned to say in German while I was visiting their land!
I finally made it to the Center For Jewish History Museum on the third day, and spent about 2 hours there reminiscing about the Holy Land and learning more about the history of Jews immigrating to America. I spent most of rest of the day walking lower Manhattan (with my bags), from 16th and 6th through Soho, down Broadway, through Little Italy and Chinatown to the area just south of there, above Wall Street/Financial District. The walk seemed like nothing after drinking a Rockstar energy drink - and I was not interested in going back underground to the dark hot sticky subways, many of which were being re-routed all weekend. The sights and sounds throughout the city were priceless, and rounded out my overall amazing experience in the Big Apple. With Chinatown as my ultimate destination, I was looking forward to embracing their culture as it is one of my favorites. I finally arrived to Little Italy and then Chinatown after my long pleasant walk, greeted by the friendly dragon sculpture above the Chinatown information kiosk. After a bit of shopping I asked one of the locals which restaurant had the best duck soup. I was directed to number 72 and was completely satisfied with not only the food but the ambiance. I was seated at a table next to 2 local Chinese men, who were also eating roast duck, with side orders of squid and fried lamb.
My day's end drew near with a bus ride to the Staten Island Ferry dock where I stood in awe of the giant American flag hanging in the building's lobby - so thankful to be a citizen of this fine cultural mecca. I then boarded a subway back uptown in search of a quiet place to work for a few hours before another all-nighter until my plane's departure. I finally reached a Starbucks which to my dismay was closing at 9:30, and it was already 9:15! I asked the people there, "isn't there a place around here open LATE?" They said "not around here" but directed me to the 24 hour Starbucks in Times Square. So I hopped back on the subway, and when I emerged at 42nd street, Times Square was certainly a sight to behold! After experiencing the intensity of the terrain, I planted myself in Starbucks to get some work done before departing for the JFK airport. The evening was not complete until a young man studying nearby observed my computer activity and asked "are you a Professor?" I noticed he was logged into Facebook and I gathered he was a student, he told me he attended Columbia University. We engaged in a great conversation, in which I found out he was Japanese-Brazilian, so we spoke in Portuguese and reminisced about Brazil. Though I've traveled around the world, America is definitely the best place to cultivate culture.
posted by :: Lisa :: at 11:51 PM
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