It’s been precisely ten days since school shut down for the winter break. Pictures speak louder than words sometimes. Hence, my increased dependency on still images to mark my adventures as I travel through the US. They are littered across my facebook page. It’s true that facebook is a platform for narcissistic indulgences or a convenient page that lets you show to your extended family/ friends that you are having the time of your life. I don’t shy from admitting that mine is probably the combination of both besides the fact that my father is on facebook now and my friend (yes, yes) and a mere click on my page is all he needs to do to see the wonderful places I visit or the architecture, museum and even food that I digest delightfully as I move from one city to another.
Which finally brings me to where I have been. Leaving the snowy confines of Syracuse (we received a ground breaking 70 inches of snow this year) I moved on to New York. The goal was to get a visa for Peru and get to see South America finally curtsey the generosity of my sister and bro-in-law. I get to NY and barely do I step off that my sister calls to inform me that there are no more tickets available for Peru. I was on the sidewalk of 44th and 9th heading to a Thai restaurant with a friend and I swear, I was so upset and upset more so for having to keep my calm, all I wanted to do was scream out loudly for everyone there to stop. :/ No Machu Pichu, no sunny beaches of Lima…sigh.
But simply being in NY for the next two days paid off. J and I walked around a lot of places that I hadn’t seen before. The first day we walked three blocks down to a flea market so that he could get an antique lamp for his tangy orange room. I suspect it was to please a special lady friend arriving from Sweden soon J. Then we took the subway to Union Square and spent the next three hours moving from one stall to the next in the farmer’s market. Fresh cider, decorated Easter eggs, glass jewelry…..name anything that would make for a good Christmas gift and it was there. Being the poverty stricken student surviving on an educational loan, I pushed my wallet into the nether regions of my bag and forged ahead in the crowd clicking away. J bought a Christmas decoration for the party that we were to attend later in the evening and I a pair of deadly black pumps. Then he insisted that we eat the BEST chicken rice (a middle eastern equivalent of our more shahi biryani) from a vendor close by. That gastronomic obligation having been fulfilled, we headed back.
Three hours later, dressed in our most fancy clothes and singing old Hindi ads in our loudest voice possible (warm cider and whiskey can do great things to your voice and yes your confidence) J and I took the subway to New Jersey. J’s ex roommate from undergrad found the best deal in NJ thanks to him and this was a house warming come pre-Christmas party at her pad. Musicians, dancers, non-profit workers and the whole gamut of what baba jocularly terms ‘artsy fartsy’ were there. I was mostly on my own while J said his hi and hellos and settled into a conversation with an ex. So I waited in the terrace overlooking the lights of New York in the distance for a wine infused epiphany. I waited for people to come up to me and strike up a conversation and then I simply waited for J to tell me we could leave. At 2, we were finally back in the city munching fried chicken to help me get over a weird nausea that was threatening to ruin my ‘vomit free’ streak since 2005. It didn’t work and I was beginning to panic. J introduced me to Listerine gargling to get over that weird creepy nausea post great wine consumption. It worked.
Next day Q and I caught up over coffee. My roommates are more my sisters and less the people one just has to get along with or carry out domestic chores and pay bills. Q is the younger sister that I never had and our chats often range from China-India politics to why there are few good men around. At 7 after J was done with his football game, he suggested we go for a walk to work our appetite (Puiya his Iranian friend was baking salmon for us to get over his anger at the loss of his favourite team in the game). J made Grand Central Station sound like this crappy new building, which has replaced the old heritage structure and kept whining about the loss. When we did finally get to GC, I realized what he had done. There towering a 100 feet above me was the impressive façade of a gothic structure looking like it was built just yesterday. Inside, a green dome with every constellation painted on it and brass chandeliers glowing brightly left me speechless. J knew I had little idea of what GC looked like so he had intentionally made it sound crappy. It worked again (somehow his methods most always do). I was unprepared for this marvel of architecture. We stayed for 40 minutes or so just taking everything in and walking around. We then walked over to the New York Public Library and headed home. That weekend in NY has been one of my most unforgettable.
Next day I headed to Chicago. I was spending all my time looking up historical buildings, visiting the beach and meeting Jack’s family until the 25th. Chicago exceeded my expectations. Jack’s family lives in Highland Park, a residential area for the affluent, mostly Jewish community and contrary to what you would imagine for such a place, it looks like it was placed conveniently in the middle of the woods and close to Michigan Lake to be forgotten by the rest of the world. Her house is atop a hill with a ravine flowing by below. While we eat our lunch we spot deer.
One morning, I grapple with how ice can exist in the most surreal forms I’ve see so far. We are standing on the lakeshore and taking pictures endlessly while the ice could crumble beneath our feet any moment. I also spent time at the Chicago Loop, which is a common term for Downtown Chicago. Much of Chicago’s grand town planning is thanks to an American architect called Daniel Burnham. Burnham took a leading role in the development of several cities in the 19th century including Chicago and Washington D C and for those who have seen the Flatiron building in NY, well that’s Burnham’s ingenuity for you.
Chicago was all about walking and more walking than I did in New York. One day we walked through Evanston, Fullerton basically the famous old residential areas and ended up in the evening after walking close to 10 miles at Green Mill to listen to a Jazz performance. Green Mill is one of the oldest pubs in Chico Town (Chicago dubbed by locals) and was a favourite hang out of Al Capone, the famous gangster during the prohibition days.
A trap door in this pub led to Aragon, a theatre near by and allowed people to escape if a police raid were to happen. Aragon has witnessed performance by leading bands and the likes of Sinatra to Duke Ellington have performed here. On the second day, Jack and I visited the Art Institute and proceeded to walk through Millenium Park, The Chicago Cultural Centre and finally through more historic buildings before returning home exhausted very happily for all that we managed to see in one day. For those visiting Art Institute, don’t miss out the Thornton Room and the New Media room. Thornton room has miniature replicas of living spaces from the 18th century in England and France and for those who love old furniture and wish to emulate some into your own homes someday, this visit will serve you well.
Christmas eve was a delight at the Hurwitz residence. I got meet all of Jack. ’s relatives and spent close to two hours talking to her grandpa who she refers to as Baba. It’s always great to meet people who are in denial of their age and remain ever curious and spirited about everything in the world. Baba promised me that he and I will start our production company soon and went on to describe the motion picture camera manufacturing company he worked for that also happened to supply cameras to the makers of ‘Gandhi’. Baba reminded me a bit of my own grandpa minus his infamous temper and I grew a little sad that evening knowing that I was so far away from my family.
I left next day for San Francisco and arrived at the Oakland airport and made a mental note of yet another airport terminals I could trace on my map, that of an itinerant. Chicago’s International O’Hare remains my favorite so far. SFO to Berkley and the next day itself back to Oakland where my sis, bro-in law and I set out to Hawaii. So so tempted to be corny and say Hawa , Hawa, Hawaii :P
And here I am! In Maui island the most picturesque of all Hawaii….minutes away from a beach with jade green waters and a bright sun waiting to seep into my skin and soul. From 23 Farenheit to 76! If I were to roam around Hawaii with a camera, I would probably be doing injustice to making the most of all natural beauty around me. So a hold on pics for now and instead, promises of more tales to come from this lush tropical paradise.
Aloha!
