Patagonia

I fulfilled a dream I had as a kid last month when I visited Patagonia. I had often heard and dreamed about the land that seemed and sounded so far away and when I eventually got there, I felt like I was at the end of the world. you know, the edge where you fall off into the empty space.

I had spent the previous four days in Santiago, a city I grew to love because it lacked the pretentiousness of BA and had some very charming gardens. Built by the Spaniards when they conquered Chile back in the day, the wide avenues and spanish block-like homes reminded of a cross between the uber-chicness of buenos aires architecture and the frozen-in-time style of havana. The hostel I stayed in Santiago was filled with backpackers from all over the world and it brought back memories from backpacking in Europe in 2003 and southeast asia in 2005. I met people from all over the world then and now but the trip is never complete without the super surfer dude from sydney who has been traveling by bus around the world for like 2.5 years. At that point traveling is not a pleasure or leisure, traveling is a way of life or a vocation.

Anyway, everyone seemed excited whenever my friend and I mentioned that we were headed down south, and that only served to increase my excitement...and I was not dissappointed. we flew into punta areas - the lowest town with a commercial airport in the southern hemishere - and the first thing I noticed was that the air felt crisp and fresh. we jumped in a van and drove straight to the penguin colony in Seno Otway so that we copuld turn around after a fewhours and do the 4 hour drive back to puerto natales. There werent too many penguins left since it was fall and most had began the migration to brazil and other warmer weathers. But there were about a hundred and I was able to do my photography.
Next stop was Puerto Natales the base town from where we went to torres del paine national park. the mountains were incredible with different and visible rock formation and salt mineral lakes at the base. we saw huanacas, condors and other wildlife. then proceed to do a trek to a mini glacier.
The following day which turned out to be a rainy day, we did a boat cruise ...ok..I just decided I will post the itinerary for the trip here -
"Torres del Paine and Glaciers / 4 days - 3 nightsItinerary :Day 1: Punta Arenas - Puerto NatalesReception at the Punta Arenas(We recommend first flight in the morning). Transfer to our offices. Depart to Puerto Natales at 16:00 hrs.(249 km / 03 hours of trip) city visiting in the way Seno Otway Penguin Colony. Arrival at 22:00 hrs more or less to the city of Puerto Natales. Lodging.Day 2: Puerto Natales - Torres del Paine National ParkBreakfast . At 7:30 am departure from your hotel to begin the full day excursion that will drive us to imposing Cave of the Milodon (Natural Monument) and later to Torres del Paine National Park where we will have a nice panoramic view of "Paine" Mountain Range as welcome. Also we will admire lakes as "Sarmiento" ,"Nordenskjold", and "Pehoe". Its "fauna" will be present through "huanacos", "foxes" among others and big variety of birds of easy observation during the trip. A short trek will take us to a big waterfall called "Salto Grande" which is part of park hidrographical net. Later ,retaking the main way, it access to CONAF central office, to continue to Lake Grey , where after to walk ( 30 minutes) through a "millenium" forest we will get to its beach to admire a great number leading offs floes from glacier. A "box lunch" is included in the service. At approximately 7:30 pm return to Puerto Natales. Lodging.Day 3: Puerto Natales - Sailing to Glaciers - Punta ArenasBreakfast. At 7:40 am transfer from your hotel to local pier. At 8:00 departure of maritimal excursión to "Balmaceda and Serrano" Glaciers. This sailing lasts about 4 hours to "Bernardo O´Higgins" National Park where . During the trip we will be able to observe the first local cattle ranches, "cormorants" and "sea lions" colonies , beech forests waterfalls and cliffs , the perfect home of majestic "condor". Once in the park we will get to "Monte Balmaceda" that show us from its eastern slope the "glacier" of the same name. Later we will approach land on "Puerto Toro" docking area , from where we will start a short trek to "Serrano" Glacier crossing a native forest and the lake's shore. A "box lunch" type or lunch in "Perales" ranch is included .At approximately at 5:00 pm return to Puerto Natales city. At 18:30 will board the public intercity bus to Punta Arenas city.. Reception at bus station and transportation to hotel.Lodging. Day 4: Punta Arenas"

Basically saw all the aformentioned wildlife and did some great photography. THen after that we decided to cross over into Argentina and see Periton Francesco Moreno - one of the largest glaciers in the patagonia named after an expert glacier scientist (or something like that). It took some convincing to decide to go but the trip was very much well worth it. I certainly enjoyed

Highlights of the trip:

• forgetting my passport on route to argentina and not being able to cross over
• going back to hostel and watching Ms. Doubtfire in spanish
• going back the next day and having it be sunny and amazing
• taking some really good photos
• eating the best seabass I have ever had in my life at angelica's in puerto natales
• crossing over border 4 times and getting out each time to register
• taking walks in the parks and museums in santiago
• going up the tram and down the cable car in santiago
• improving my zero spanish
• washing up in showers made for some the size of frodo baggins
• traveling with one of my closest friends
• getting closure

Scotland!

Lochs, lores and literature. Fortresses, friends and food. Edinburgh, glasgow, aberfoyle, lomond, stirling...guess whose fallen for scotland?

Last weekend saw me take a much needed trip away from London to get some rest. Having planned to go somewhere south like Lisbon or Greece with warmer weather, I was unhappy to learn that my failure to buy tickets early meant that most flight tickets were close to 200 pounds. Then I remembered that I had heard twice in the last 3 months that end of May is the best time to visit scotland, so I sough travel interest from the America gang in london and ended up on the trip with a coworker, friend and cool travel buddy.

The outbound leg we decided to do by train and by the time we were passing newcastle and approaching the scottish border, I knew we couldnt have chosen a more perfect weekend. the weather was fantastic and as the train hurtled along the eastern coast of england, I managed to get a few pictures.

On getting to Edinburgh no time was lost and we went straight to the main tourist attraction - the castle. very interesting tour with museums within and other scottish treasures including the crown and sword that signified the scottish sovereingty and that many an invader had tried to steal from the people. then it was on to the literary pub tour where for ten quid, we got to do a 2 hour walk and to learn about the great literary scottish giants including Sir Walter Scott, Burns and Robert Louis stevenson. Growing up as a kid, I had read Ivanhoe (by SWS) and Treasure Island and kidnapped (by RLS), so I was eager to learn about these authors from my childhood. The tour guides did not disappoint. between acting and storytelling they gave a perfect presentation of scottish history coated in the literature that drove, sustained and inspired a proud nation.

The following day we did a bus tour of central scotland since I wanted to learn more about william wallace and also get to see one of the famous lochs. Our bus driver/tour guide was very knowledgeable and we started of by driving through Glasgow which was only 45 minutes away. I must confess that anytime he put the scottish bagpipe music on, I promptly fell asleep. might have to do with the pub tour the evening before. After glasgow, we went to Loch Lomond - second most famous loch after Loch Ness - for a boat cruise. The cruise was enlightening but as I spent the whole hour looking for Nessie's cousin, I missed most of the facts of the loch save that it was 24 miles long and 5 miles in its deepest part.

Afterwards, it was on to Aberfoyle, a small picturesque town in the middle of no-where scotland, that was so charming, even the flowers in the fields were smiling back at me. After having one of the most amazing cajun grilled chicken sandwich (who would have thought?), we were off to see hammish - the hairy cow that was just too cute. Can one have a giant pet, I wondered?

Then it was off to Stirling castle - home of Robert de bruce and not far from it, the monument dedicated to William Wallace. I will spare you, the reader, a digression on William wallace save to say that you should watch "Braveheart". period. So much history and pride. A lot of the old scottish sentiments echo through time even into the present to remind us that freedom is never something to be taken for granted.

Running around all day didnt really wear me out since we were going around in a small tour bus and I had like 5 billion naps along the way, so after dinner, I decided to catch the latest indiana jones flick. I had heard it was just alright (spoiler alert) and lowered my expectations but the lowered expectations didnt do too much to buffer my crushed secrets hopes that maybe, just maybe, george lucas will put something good on screen again since his last hit in the mid-80s. no way jose! as my colleague next to me would say - utter rubbish!

Determined not to let a movie ruin my holiday, I rocked myself to sleep with images of me riding into battle as one of the captains in wallace's militia taken on the tyrant king of England. Yeah, i know. whatever. The next day started bright and strong for us. After a hearty breakfast, we decided to tackle Arthur's seat - a hill bordering Edinburgh on the Southeast side with what felt like a 45 degree incline. but the hike and scramble up was totally worth the amazing views that greeted us at the top. after relaxing for an hour, and catching the 1pm shooting of the canon (used in the day for ships to align their clocks), I decided to go and explore the writers museum. A couple of hours later, and six old books purchased, I had satisfied my thirst for knowledge about the life of RLS. What was intriguing was the fact that he spent majority of his adult life in haiwaii and the polynesian islands due to the good weather and his failing health. The picture took me into the past and I was able to conjure up images that drove that great mind to write such classics including - the phenominally progessive for its time - "the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde".

the last hurrah in Edinburgh was the food tasting festival where for 35 pounds we tasted food from all the great local restaurants and also got a bottle of wine to go with. the night highlight was tailing it to a pub we'd visiting before and hanging out most of the night with Simon's bachelor party. Simon, whom I had just met, made sure that all those around shared in the joy of his impending nuptuals and after a few classics along the lines of "summer of 69" i concluded that edinburgh is a great place for Stag-dos (bachelor parties) and hen dos (bachelorette parties). this is so because it is a walking city and they have excellent important and local brews to match the growing desire to maintain a balance of cosmopolitan polish and traditional warmth.

I wish I had had 3 more days to explore this amazing country and just as my 3 month backpacking trip in 2003 did for me, I was able to decide whether or not this was a city I wanted to come back to. The decision was unanimous - YES SIR!

ps. I am also ashamed to note that I just learned on the trip that the union jack is a combination of the x cross of st andrew of scotland and the + cross of st george of england. duh.

Versace, Milano, Paris and Biella

I just met Santo Versace, brother and succesor to Giovanni versace, the famed designer who died a few years back. For my lunch break my colleague decided to give me a tour of central Milan and show me some of our high end luxury partners. After visting gucci, valentino, bulgari, ferragamo, I was getting tired but he insisted we walked over and check out the new versce home collections. and as we stood outside admiring the brand new building, Versace walks up and we have a chat. guy seemed nice enough although one of the men with him looked like he could qulech troubles just by being around. if you know what I mean.
Compared to paris, where I was earlier in the week, Milano is lacking in architectural proclamation. the city is not as engaging as any of the other major italian cities either. it is noted for its fashion, models and football but that's all she wrote. really. Anyway, last week while visiting Paris, I had forgotten just how much I loved that city. vibrant architecture, top fashion and deliberate cuisine, makes it a top contender on my majors list. The "deliberate" in paris cuisine is underscored by the most amazing string beans I had with my steak and escargot appetiser. The care taken to cook the string beans in a light oil and garnish with airy cheese was really a delight to my tasting buds. While I didnt have much time to sight see on this visit, I was reminded of the need to throw in another paris excursion before my time is up in august, since I still have to make it back to my favorite museum -d'orsay and to the Moulin Rouge.
Before hitting Milan today, I had gone a few towns northwest to visit with some friends in Biella. As my train pulled into Biella, the small italian town nestled in the foot of the Italian Alps, the site made me reminisce about my backpacking trip 4 years ago across Europe and the awe I was in when my train from france pulled into Interlaken - the outdoors/extreme sports capital of western europe. Biella is no interlaken, the laziness in the atmosphere defiantly pressed in the face of any sourjourner into that region. A wine producing, former textile manufacturing colony that I found to be very welcoming, Biella promised me the unbridled excitement of nothingness - exactly what I was looking for to rest fom a hectic week in Paris and an even hectier one to come in Milan this week.
The weekend was filled with big dinners, bbq's, brunches, aperetifs (italian style tapas that can be used for, or a prequel, to dinner). My friend, Trinity from NYC and her friend Marjorie from Scotland (she once made Prince Charles bed while he was visiting a scottish castle) were kind enough to let me crash in their apartment. I cannot but mention that we rocked the 2 biggest clubs in Biella till 4 am both nights and despite my attempts to expend little or no energy, I must have lost at least 5 pounds dancing in the crowded, full euro-techno/ american-eighties jam sessions in both places (Madonna is very big here btw).
I will have to say my favorite parts of the weekend included taking a nap in the city center park, having tea and fruit at 5am in th morning and hanging by the city mini waterfall pondering why deep questions such as why the old textile factory has a row of twenty blue penguins with scarfs hanging from the rooftop.
All in all, a very hectic couple of weeks recently that has been especially fun with all the travel but moreso as I continue to hang out with my bella ...someone I will write about in another update ;)

"damn, it feels good to be a banker..."

Lying sick in bed and tired of reading all the books I brought with me from NYC, I decided to catch up on all the funny emails and links that I had been sent the past month. All I have to say it "thank you" to the current video producers at columbia business school follies. despite graduating 3 years ago, I could still relate to every video and joke. http://www.cbsfollies.com/ click on fall 07 videos. amongst my favorites - "damn, it feels good to be a banker..."

So the hardest part of living in london has to be the weather hands down. I think the god put in charge of london weather is a schizo. I find it so hard waiting on the "london is amazing during the summer" comment as the main reason to continue to endure the whims of a demoted weather god - sunshine, rain and hail on the same day. I was just on the phone with my friend NYC who is living in Sydney for 6 months, just as I am doing in London. From the beautiful beaches, to the beautiful people, to the beautiful weather, she made me realize that while london might lay claim to being the most dynamic and diverse city in the world, one still needs a touch of good weather to enjoy such a claim.

Cotswolds

I went to the Cotswolds for easter and that happened to be one of my favorite weekends in a long time. having tea in a manor, dripping guiness in a pub built in 1293, eating duck confit, and playing lots of scrabble with some of my fav people here all summed up a most beautiful, and relaxing weekend.

Boat Race

The annual Oxford-Cambridge boat race (rowing) took place on Saturday. In typical fashion, the weather was miserable to say the least. high winds, heavy rain, and grey skies all day long. This, however, did not dampen the spirits of the revelers who came to the river banks to watch the race by hammersmith. I got home late from the football game and between showering, changing and going 2o mins north of town, I almost missed the race. as a matter of fact, I arrived just as the bell was rung to indicate that the rowers were about to pass where we were camped out. Overall, I thought the whole thing was a bit of a letdown (the weather contributing significantly to this assessment) but I did enjoy the tea and biscuits we had after the race at a local pub!

one of the other things I have enjoyed while been here is getting introduced to new music. I had the privilege of seeing Eric Appaoulay play last night at the halo lounge in battersea. 2 weeks earlier, I had gone with some folks to see a friend of a friend, Iona Mclean (fantastic voice), and she had Eric Appapoulay on guitar while she was on vocals. I remembered walking away and thinking how awesome it was to have a human being make a guitar talk and that I had to see his next show, hence Saturday night at the halo lounge. I highly recommend this fantastic musician if anyone comes through London.

I forgot to explain why I don't tell people I live in Chelsea anymore. Well, basically, I get 2 sort of reactions from people I tell. My friends here and coworkers always say "oh, that's very posh" to which I just kind of smile and nod stupidly or strangers look at me and think I am actually in finance or a celebrity. ok, maybe not always but often. When I got assigned to Chelsea by my work, I didn't realize it was like the Greenwich village of Manhattan but hey, I am not complaining. I just keep my mouth shut.

Today was excellent weather. blues skies, warm dry winds, a laziness in the drift of the clouds. My plan was to catch up the national geographic photo exhibit at the natural history museum but I ended up reading the Sunday papers in the park and that was so worth it! I cant wait for the weather to change. Granted, I have always been a four season's person but I don't think I have looked forward to spring this much in a long time. I am especially reminded about this when I wake up to birds chirping outside my window every morning.

Exciting!

Change!

“33 million infected globally. Over 3 million orphaned. 8,000 people will die today. Something needs to change”. As I heard Karen Warren highlight the statistics of HIV/AIDS globally in her presentation, I met the figures with my initial skepticism about the need for change and how we can be part of the change.

From Barack – the country is ready for change; to Hillary – we need experience not change ; to McCain – progress not change; to Tupac – I see no changes! ; everywhere I turn, even here in London, most of us are clamoring for but not signing up for change.

Karen’s message struck a chord that got me thinking not so much about political change but of personal change (or progress or experience depending on what camp you’re in). Basically she was arguing that life shouldn’t be about the next pair of shoes for ladies or electronic gadget for men but about that stranger on another continent in pain and crying out for help. That life is not just about advancing my career at my current job by taking a highly selective transfer job with my company or driving a new initiative that will make more money for everyone. Huh? I mean I know it’s not about the money but who doesn’t want to be admired or recognized in whatever job we do? Basically, I am supposed to strive to make someone’s life better regardless of whether or not I get the credit publicly. And then God, who sees all, will see what I do and dispense his rewards to me?!?
Actually, no. She argued that in reaching out to others we find ourselves, our purpose and we find God. Hmmm, interesting.

So, coming from NYC where any sort of religious talk is looked down upon as backward-thinking or close-mindedness, I have worked fervently to ensure people don’t see a semblance of that in me. But this lady was presenting a different idea that I have wrestled with the past two years. I want to believe that this life is more than the next buck or adventure or relationship. I want to believe in God. To believe the vacuum in my heart can indeed be filled by something bigger and greater. To believe because no one has been able to reconcile the concept of time (whence we started and when we end) or space (what is outside the Milky Way? And whatever answer you have - what is outside of that?).

Anyway, I figured I can take the six months I am here to try and figure out a few “small” questions and if I cant right now, I might at least blab about the service (or lack thereof) here in London. So a few folks (actually four expats and my first visitor) were out to drinks last Saturday at a pub and I asked a mate from America how he’s found living in London the past 18 months. He likes London but strongly believes that change is necessary in the service industry. He started off on a scooter but in about ten seconds was like an 18-wheeler. Basically, the service sector in London sucks was the summary. Unlike in the America where your local waiter/waitress gets paid less than minimum wage and have to make up the rest through tips and are therefore forced to give good service (sometimes), the opposite it true here. No one cares about how well you’re served because they all make at least minimum wage. As an example - here in London, every bar or restaurant has this mobile credit card swiping machine, which once they swipe, takes about 45 sec to process the transaction. It is not uncommon to go to a super crowded bar, order a drink about the same time another patron’s card is being swiped and have the bartender proceed to wait for the 45 sec transaction to go through, and the receipt is signed before pouring the next beer. In good ole United States of Capitalism, the bartender will be processing 3 cards, switching the bar TV to sportscenter, doing a shot with the patrons, while pouring 2 drinks- all in the name of that extra tip. No wonder no-one in London can appreciate T-pain’s song “…I like the baaarrr-rrrtender”

Seriously though, since that day I have noticed how everything really is much slower and not efficient in this place. I can perhaps be a part of global change by volunteering on an HIV/AIDS initiative, perhaps push personal change by opening my perspective to engage faith and believe God, but when I think about change to the London service sector, I will admit that it has on occasion made me ascribe limits to Gandhi’s call to “be the change”.

broken legs and heating coals

Before getting on the airplane last week, I picked up a copy of the international tribune and was shocked to see the rapid motion pictures of the compound fracture and full dislocation of Eduardo da Silva’s foot last Saturday. Eduardo, the brave, highly talented Arsenal forward, was rushed into surgery and experts revealed later that if not for the immediate attention he got, his foot could have been amputated. All this while playing soccer at the highest level here in the UK (and thus the world). So you can imagine my strong desires to not miss this weekend match. Not because I wanted to see more gore but to see how my team will respond to adversity.

Back home in NYC, for an extra $44 a month, I got fox soccer channel “bundled” with other useless stations and this enabled me to watch most premier league games (English top flight division) every weekend. My close friends in the NYC knew how much I cherished a weekend of football and my dwell magazine. And oh, how I was looking forward to watching the game this Saturday only to discover that here in the UK they severely limit the games they show on TV so as to keep the “atmosphere” of going to the real games. I say BS!

Since I wasn’t going to catch the game at a pub, I figure I might as well play the game itself. Fortunately, through my mate (good friend in brit-speak) whom I met in NYC, Ryan, I was able to find a team rather quickly and enjoyed a day out with the lads; running, hurting and generally just bringing the pain to our opponents. My favorite part was not so much the game but at the pub we went to after. I caught a picture of this dog asleep on the bar floor. Its that dog that you see playing poker in every picture used to depict the traditional bar scene – the dogs around the table, smoke hanging loose in the background, single light bulb oscillating and casting a glow on the grim dog faces… you get the jist. Anyway, it took something that simple yet vivid to ram home the fact that I WAS in London now not America.

A few beers later, I hightail to spend some time with my mate and his wife at their winter BBQ out in Brixton (south of the Thames). Brixton to London proper is like Brooklyn to Manhattan. I got to discuss (with a PhD candidate) the ramifications of the often undocumented gypsy holocaust that was overshadowed by the Jewish holocaust because of the sheer numbers but supposedly proportion-wise was worse since the gypsies were almost wiped out as a people. It was a good diversion from the previous 10 mins were a bunch of us had spent half an hour trying to light coals to grill our exotic meats only to realize that we were using home heating coals not grill coals.

So little things are cementing my shift in consciousness of my environments - The night before, I had gone to a Chinatown restaurant with some buddies from b-school who now live in London and after trying the 100 yr egg (an egg buried underground for a year but called 100 yr egg...huh?), I was ready to get some fresh air. As we walked out, this polish (I think) bike cab driver decided to impress us with a Willie. For those of you who grew up on BMX’s and Raleigh’s, you know it took a while to get a willie going, but this cat leaned left and then right in a split second and was able to keep the bike cart on 2 wheels for the length of block. Totally impressive. I ran after him trying to get a picture cos I know the drivers by Columbus circle in NY will (a) not try this (b) and it if they did, will dump the passenger in the horse poop all around the lower central park lane.

Anyway, the general jist is that I am settling in quite nicely, staying busy with work, discovering different delicacies around my area and making friends through work, church, sports, and pubs and generally on the street.

In my next update, I will let you in on why I have stopped telling people where I live.

Getting settled in ...

Oh, btw if you are an American trying to get a bank account it would be like Hilary Clinton trying to run on a republican ticket – you get treated like an ass (get it?).

“Passport please, work permit, work letter, proof of this, proof of that…kiss our flag…”

Apparently everyone is intent on making sure there is no money laundering accounts being set up just as in the US. I am all for it but I don’t see how and why opening an account should take an hour. In the home of capitalism, cats are trying to get you into a checking, savings, money market and a zero % APR credit card account for the first 5 days (if you really read the fine print) in like 10 mins. Not here. Lady, pleasant as she was, acted like she was being paid to serve the minimal amount of clients possible per day.


Ok, ok. Maybe I am sounding a bit grouchy. Things really aren’t that bad. The sun is out today. Its 55 degrees outside. I didn’t get run-over looking left then right instead of right then left to cross the street. Our concierge is actually very nice and I love the old French lady who owns the pastry shop 2 blocks from my house. When I went in for breakfast, she said bonjour with the warmest smile that would melt any alloy. I like the fact that the major streets paralleling mine both have very nice gardens and a couple of old, old cathedrals. And it certainly didn’t hurt that our associate was flexible enough to accommodate me when I popped into the office today (I was expected tomorrow) to send off some emails.

All in all, life is good. I am thankful for this new phase. Feelings of excitement mixed with a slight anxiety has me ready to take on London. Everyone says the 6 months will go by so quickly but what I learned from Einstein’s Dreams is that time is really only a matter of relative perspective. I choose whether to make it go fast or slow depending on how I choose to spend my time the next six months. But inside I know they are probably right. I have already chosen to meet new folks, and to gain new experiences. To travel wide, but to also embrace the city. To engage my artistic side more but to also step it up to another level at work. I have chosen London. We shall see if London chooses me. This is the diary of an American expat in London.

Arrival in London

February 25

Name 3 differences between NYC cab drivers and the xxxxxxxx limo service from Heathrow to central London? (i) one is a cab one is a limo service (ii) that is it. No more. Kaput. Ce finit. Period. They are one and the same with one intent – kill self and passenger or be killed. I mean, you’d think a limo service will have it going on but the lady driver I had was hell-bent on getting into London under an hour despite the chaotic Monday morning rush hour traffic. I had to beg her to let me get to my apt safely. It would really not be cool to die on the way to my flat on my first day here.Anyway, we did get safely to my flat in London and I must say that the digs is a nice hookup. Great tree lined street. Quite. Clean. Spacious. Many of you travelers out there understand the need to come home to a “sanctuary” when you are away from home and the layout definitely gave me reason to smile.

A few weeks earlier I had polled my friends on where to live in London (I had the option of choosing anywhere I wanted, yeah...I know!).The feedback was both varied and passionate and left me thinking that if I made the wrong choice that I was doomed to be the pariguayo American missing out on life as it should be lived in its fullest. A pariguayo (for those of you with furrows on your forehead) according to Junot Diaz, author of The brief and wondrous life of Oscar Wao – a must-read factual and insightful yet disturbingly tragic story about a Dominicano’s life in Jersey, New York and Santa Domingo – is a party-watcher not a doer. “During the First Occupation it was reported that members of the American Occupying Forces would often attend Dominican parties but instead of joining in the fun the Outlanders would simply stand at the edge of the dances and watch...contemporary usage describes anybody who stands outside and watches while other people scoop up the girls. The kid who don’t dance, who ain't got game, who let’s people clown him – he’s the pariguayo.”

Comments such as “For what its worth, we found south ken to be a bit too upper east side for our tastes…” and “south kenn actually should be considered the 52nd State it is so American…” made be reevaluate the “options” I had and although I have that internal smile every time I walk into my apt, ask me again in a month how I feel and I might just be pulling my hair out for not listening to my fellowship of the ring. Well, technically I am in Chelsea but then again I think it’s like saying I don’t live in the village, I live in West village!


I crashed on getting home. Was supposed to take a 2 hour nap but woke up at 5pm. The concierge had left for the day and I couldn’t get anyone to explain why the shower drainage was not working as I thought it should (“I suspect previous renter took many baths and tightened the stupid up-down drainage disc”) or why the heater was on all night (“it’s not enough to change thermostat setting, you have to shut off individual radiators since the latent heat is used to warm the bathroom towels”. Ha), or why I could only log unto the internet with my work computer and not my personal computer (“sorry, I only enabled one computer ID, didn’t realize you had two computers”. Huh?). So, after all the fixes I went and got me a nice big Indian meal. I have to say it wasn’t as good as Indian row in the east village but it was alright. By the time I was done ordering thoug, I felt like I had just asked an MTA worker in New York how to get to the upper west side – overwhelmed with monosyllabic nonsense. You know…

”excuse me, how do I get to the upper west side?”
“the subway”
“well…I know that. I meant which…”
“the 2”
“but the F is on the 2 line”
“construction”
“huh? Is the 2 running then?
“nope”
“so what then?”
“get on the 1 on express line and switch to the F…at 59th switch to the A, B or C then at 81st get out and take the cross town to 79th. Back to the 1 and that should take you to 145th”

At which point, you just go outside and take a cab.

“excuse me, what types of curry do you have?”
“many”
“can you tell me how briyani is different from sag or tandoori?”
“yeah”
“well…?”
“one has spice, one has veggie.”
Pause
“which is which?”
“hmmm”…confused look.
“how much?”
“₤ 13”
“what? ₤ 13???”
“oh, sorry. I charged you the stay-in price; take away is ₤ 9”
“Are you sure?”
“No. pardon me. I just started 2 days ago but I will get the manager to help you”

At which point, you just go outside and get McDonalds.