NYC Polaroids

The Future Neurosurgeon.

The cab driver who drove me into the city is Pakistani but has been in the US for over 20 years. He was upset with me for going all the way to India but not seeing the Taj Mahal. He doesn't like driving cabs but he loves his kids. His 16 year old daughter is a straight A student who won some recent science competitions and wants to be a neurosurgeon just like McDreamy. He got out of the cab to hand me my suitcase and I said "Good luck to your daughter!" He lowered his eyes and shook his head and said "I am *so* proud of her."

Borscht

I went to lunch at Veselka and couldn't decide which borscht I wanted. I really, really love borscht. The waitress of ambiguous eastern europeaness winked and said "no problem!" and brings me both kinds. The woman sitting next to me said "wow, you really like borscht." I told her its the one food I can't get in North Carolina. She said "oh sure you can, you just need to find the Jewish section of town." I said that while Durham has many cool Jewish people, we don't have a Jewish section of town per se. She said "come on! that's crazy. Every city has a Jewish section!"

Liver & Onions

The best thing about NYC is walking until your feet are shredded. I was already nursing a recovering ankle and the infected Harry Potter scar, then my heels were red and raw. So I went into TJ Maxx to look for something that would keep me walking. I found a cheap pair of fuzzyish shoes that are probably actually slippers but look enough like shoes I figured I could get away with it. Standing in line, this disheveled red-eyed guy says, "Hey, lady, how much are those? Will you buy my gift card?"

My feet hurt too much to be bitchy, if that makes sense. So I said "$15." Exactly what the gift card was worth. We wait in line together and he tells me how grateful he is because now he can buy food tonight -- liver and onions, he's been dreaming about it all day. I said "eww" and told him how my mom would force us to eat it as a kid and I hate it. Borscht is way better. "No, no, no. " he says. Clearly I've never had it done right and he goes into detailed instructions on how to prepare liver and onions. The woman next to us corrects some of his details. Another woman agrees with me, eww. Yet another says, well, another variation on cooking it is such and such.....and poof, tourist girl, outer borough admins on their lunch hour, and seemingly shady possibly high guy were all bonded.

I got my slipper/shoes and was able to keep walking. He got $15 and hopefully, his liver.

Fancy satin things

I went on a tour with the Tenement museum focused on the Irish in 1860 and there was a really cool Irish woman in her 70s on the tour. She was public health nurse in the 1950s in Glasgow and we talked on the street for about an hour after the tour and she told me this fascinating story about an aunt who came to America, opened a boarding house and imported her nieces for indentured servants. One of the nieces escaped and returned to Ireland "rich and fancy." And I wondered, how would a young single woman, make it back to Ireland in the 1930s rich?

"Oh, she had all these satin pillows and nightgowns and such. You know....*faaaaancy*" she said with a very knowing twinkle in her eye.

Ahhhhh, that's how a young girl came back to Ireland rich in the 1930s!

Obama

The cab driver that drove me back to the airport said "Oh, you live where John Edwards lives! I love John Edwards!" And not wanting to hurt his feelings, I changed the subject to where he was from. Sudan. He came over for a job in Indiana in a factory but got laid off and ended up driving cabs in NY. We talked about the goings-ons of Sudan and I told him I do as many little things as I can and wish our government did more. We talked about the sucky economy and he said he was for Obama and I said I was as well. "Really!?!?! Will all women vote for Sarah Palin?" I assured him that smart women will vote for Obama.

As we said good bye, he nodded his head, smiled and said "Obama" and I smiled back and said "Obama!"

Salt

I was really car sick despite the cool Sudanese driver. I was right there at the edge of hurling even after I got out of the car and through security. So I bught some french fries and a sprite. I poured a whole salt packet on each fry and when I ran out of fries, licked the salt out of the paper bag. Alas, it did the trick and the nausea went away. I looked up and found this dowdy 50ish looking woman staring at me in horror. I wanted to explain and realized my salt thing really is a freak of nature that can't be explained.

Rain

You know your life is good when ...

You go someplace different and fun for a day. You have a great time and day dream about being landless and owning fancy shoes and eating delicious borscht every day. And then come back and find yourself so thickly and profoundly filled with happiness when you get off the plane, you walk more slowly in the blustery Carolina rain to breathe more deeply and drink it all in. Home.