Out of the oasis and into the desert.

Its taken a while but the realization of how different life is outside of MoHo is slowly trickling in. I work for a completely male team i.e. everyone is male, and I am the new female addition.

Having studied in an all girl's school for 7 years and then an all women's college for 4 years, one would think that this experience would be quite a shocker. Contrary to such belief it was pretty banal. Men are men. Awkward for most part, or maybe cuz they are IT men? Who knows. WHat did surprise me was the inherent tendency to belittle women. Not in a malicious way, necessarily, but in an even more tragic manner. In a very normal way.

We were out to get lunch, 4 guys and myself. I am the youngest of the lot, straight out of college, doe-eyed and an immature newborn to the world of IT (even though I am less technical, such that I am a consultant). Come to think of it, maybe I should have allowed myself more maturity, nodded in the right ways, pulled my hair back in a tight bun and barely smile except for a stern matronly pull of the lips. Alas, that defies my character. My persona. So I smile a lot, wear bright clothes, tie my hair loosely and (here is the KILLER) order Very-Chanilla Italian Soda for beverage when everybody else ordered DIET (freaking!!) Coke. Who drinks diet coke!! Drink the goddamned real think of you must drink soda...ahem, anyway...

So we were getting lunch and I had already gotten a few weird looks for Verry-Chanilla (if you haven't guessed it by now, that is a distorted, sort of wanna be cute form for Cherry-Vanilla) but ignoring that I was drinking along, trying to keep track of conversation and figure out how to eat the open sandwich in front of me. Thats when the guys started talking about basketball and how one team really sucked.

Someone says, "oh blah blah blah...team X plays terrible"
Someone else says, "oh blah blah blah...I should start watching women's basketball instead"

*burst of laughter around the table, i stay quiet but have an amused/confused look on my face"

Someone else else says, "well watching team X is like watching women's basketball, so why switch"

*burst of laughter around the table again*

Thats when one of the guys looks at me and with a sheepish grin says, "No offense"

Should I have replied, "None taken"? Cuz that would have been a lie, but then again I didn't act quite offended either...Maybe I should have smiled and said "Fuck you, you male chauvanist pig" or simply stormed off, or said, "well, I truly don't think you should be making such comments" Unfortunately, all I did was ignore the statement and pretenD that nothing happened. The more I thought about it the more I was affected by the conversation, my lack of reaction, or late reaction for that matter.

I can't go back in time and even if I could I would, most likely, not do anything too differently. Why? I don't know...I admit it, I don't have the courage, YET, to stand up to such mockery. But I definitely will. Courage comes with experience and confidence in one self, and thats exactly what I am working up right now. Well, that is the hope at least. So piece of advise for anyone who does not have an immediate reaction, or does not know how to react to such "little" things that are the building blocks to discrimination across the world...choose your battles. We can't take everyone and everything on at all times. We pick our battles, we strengthen our defenses AS WELL AS our offenses, we build courage, tighten our armors and sharpen our swords and we fight, but in due time. You can't make a warrior without practise and a practised warrior is one with scars. Don't be afraid to get scarred. My little anecdote was more like a scratch but don't be afraid to get brutalized in these "real world battles". Jokes, burns, sarcastic remarks, belittling conversations, disbelief in ablility and what not, the list goes on. Scars will serve as reminders. Dramatic as this sounds, lets not ever forget. We still are second class citizens in a patriarchal world. MoHo was an oasis. The desert is where life begins. Wooohoooooooooooooooo!!!

Betrayal

Every morning, I have a similar routine. I rush out of bed, trying to cling to my sheets till the last ticking second possible, hitting one alarm off after another (yes, I set three different alarms). I get up, hop around, rush to the train station, get sticky, sweaty, and smelly (BO spreads. legits).

And once I get off the station, I always always go to the little hole-in-the-wall Dunking Donuts store to get a coffee.

What do I get everyday? A Hot Coffee, Medium, with Cream and Sugar. Oh, and on a paper cup please. [[Note: I am not much of a go green person, though I wish I were, but Mariko told me that Styrophome cups were bad for health, and environment, were not easily degradable, and animals could mistake it for food...I think the health part really got me asking for paper cups...hmm...ok, sorry about the digression!]]

Anyway, when one gets the same thing to drink, around the same time, every morning, from the same guy - his name is Ali, yep, just Ali - it becomes a habit. Both for the customer i.e. ME and the vendor i.e. Ali. Every morning when Ali sees me he gets that paper cup ready and pours me that medium hot coffee (original blend, mind you, and god forbid NOT decaf!) with cream and sugar. The cup exchanges hands, I pay and I leave. Routine. We humans have such a habit of falling into a routine.

But today something changed. Something different happened. The world as Ali and I knew was about to come to an end.

This morning, I got off the train in more of a rush than usual. I was slightly late as I had to wait for 4 trains before I could squeeze myself into one. So, not surprisingly, ONCE AGAIN, I was hot, sweaty, smelly and annoyed. I briskly walked to DD, cuz America runs on it, obvi, and stood in line. I wanted something cool today, I though, and without giving any more thought to it, I asked for a medium ICED coffee, with cream and sugar, paid for it and waited on the side.

But when Ali saw me, unaware of my change of plans he quickly got my medium coffee with cream and sugar ready in a PAPER CUP!

There stood Ali with my cup in his hand, a smile on his face, greeting his "loyal" customer, unaware of the betrayal that had taken place. The lady who had taken my order barked an order at him immediately.

"Iced coffee!!"

I stuttered, mumbled that I would take the medium coffee, reached out for it but our bond of medium coffee with cream and sugar on a paper cup had already broken when I decided to switch drinks. He had a long line to cater too and he simply dumped my coffee and gave me an iced cofee, with an icy look in his eyes.

Feeling awful, I left, with my iced coffee tinkling, swirling, and swooshing around in the cup.

Jesus Christ!?

Will this city ever cease to scare me? Amaze me? Scare me? Amuse me? Scare me? Confuse me? Scare me? Throw me off me feet...did i mention scare me?

So me and my roommates were walking back from a nice quiet dinner, very close to our apartment when this lady comes up to us and asks, "Whats at the end of the road? You need to tell my friend, she is too scared to go over. Says its dark there. You need to tell her that its alright, there is a park there."

Dark in the Upper East Side? Ermm.. Straight up I was confused. Being the smart-ass and kind-hearted wanna be that I am, I stepped forward with a helping hand. (Not to mention, I am also the least experienced in NYC, both my roommates have lived here way longer than my paltry month and half!)

"Oh, at the end? Thats York Avenue. Very happening. [[note: I'd been to York Av. ONCE before]] Lots to do. Lots of light, bright. No need to be worried or scared. You should go!!"

As we're moving on, literally a step away from our apartment, the lady who wanted us to convince her friend starts blabbering about religion. There's something very eery about a middle-aged woman, moderately fashionably dressed up, at about 9:30 at night, asking us about whether we were good catholics, whether we went to church regularly or not, where we believed in Christ. I won't lie, I was scared.

"Erm, I don't believe in religion," I said. My friends were both behind me. Smartly quiet, smartly without retaliations or answers.

"Let Jesus into your hearts, he will show you the way, he will show you the light, the reason for living."

In my head I'm chanting...ram, ram, ram, ram..om namah shivaya, om namah shivaya, om namah shivaya..but on the outside I'm nodding my head, in agreement with this fanatic that we've met RIGHT OUTSIDE OUT APARATMENT..telling me to embrace Jesus.

Oh my GANESHAAAA help me out here! "ok, goodnight" I try to see. Does , she listen? ...yeah, what do you think? of course not! jesus loves you, jesus this, embrace him....i'm nodding my head, smiling, brining out my diplomat best, nodding, smiling, "understanding", "appreciating"...Jessssssssus Christ, was I scared!

She eventually left. We were shocked, to put it mildly. You never know what ticks people off, and i sure as hell dont wanna tick anybody off in this crazed city..

Religion is a way of life. What's my religion? Ermm...i dont know, the statue of liberty? Manhattan? The Subway? Dunkin Donuts? My computer?? hmm..

A sob story.

I finally moved into a new and more permanent place. Temporarily permanent, whatever that means. Everything around us is probably temporary, who ever came up with the word PERMANENT? hmm. But here I am, with a lamp to keep me company is a cute cubby hole! The best part of this room is that its got windows and right outside is the fire exit. Can't WAIT to get on that.

On my way here I was talking to the taxi driver. He was from Egyp and been here for the past 17 years. He probably has a family here too (and in Egypt). He told me that he went to Egypt every 2 years. But he's here, working hard, in the land of dreams and such a happy man too. Its the fact that I didn't have to struggle with too many things growing up that I don't appreciate a lot that I have. Not appreciate it enough though...

On a different note, I was on the train a few days ago, waiting to get off at a certain stop and a lady came in and sat next to me. She was crying her eyes out. Sobbing. Red, blotchy face. What did I do? Turned away. What did everybody else do? Stared for a few seconds and turned away. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but how could I help? My stop was coming up. I can't even say that NYC made me heartless, after all, I'd only been in the city for a few days when this happened. The incidence made me wonder how decenticised (sp??) I have become to human emotions. Maybe we have all, but I won't speak for somebody else's experiences.

I can't ask her what's wrong bhanera. What if...what if she wants some money? What if, what if she wants to...TALK? I don't have the time for that. Best look away. Stuff those ear phones in and look away. Bury my nose in my book and look away. I can hear her sniffles and groans, but I'd rather look away. Apple is a wonderful company and has done a great job of blocking such pitiful noises. God bless ipods. I repeat my "look away" mantra. Its sad. Real real sad. I wish I had the courage to just ASK what was wrong, even if I couldn't help, at least ASK. Even if I didn't care, just an acknowledgement of the fact that she was in pain. "Is everything ok?" or "Are you alright?" She might have answered in a thousand different ways, but the least she'd know is that I can SEE that she is in pain, I can HEAR it, and if nothing else, I'd tell her that I was sorry that she was in pain. She wouldn't find help in me. Nor would she find a friend. She would, never the less, find that her emotions were not lost in the confines of a metro train.

I hope she is doing well, wherever she is.

Heart of the Island..

Maybe NYC does have a heart. I go on random tangents but I keep thinking about Lost when I say that. I truly feel like NYC must have a heart buried underneath all the concrete and layers of people. How did this thought come about? Let me share an anecdote.

Yesterday, after meeting some friends in SOHO and getting some groceries from Canal Street (even though I live in Jersey City!), I took the train from Canal Street that was supposed to stop at Cortland Street. Surprise, surprise, the train does not stop at my stop. I get off, get out to the street that is dark, dingy and barren of signs of life, and scurry into the subway on the same side of the street (stupid mistake # 1). The walk to the subway platform is by passing through mad sketchy tunnels, lighten by dull fluorescent lights which gives me a feel like I'm in a prison cell, well, actually a corridor in a prison to be more precise! I scramble to put some money on my metro card, swipe it, and voila! I'm on the wrong side of the train, exactly where I had gotten off earlier (refer back to stupid mistake # 1). I panic. Don't ask me why, NYC scares me, it feels like getting lost in a concrete jungle (thanks Jay-Z and Alicia Keys). Where was I? Oh yeah, I panicked. Quickly asked a lady who confirmed that my train would be on the other side. I hurry outside, looking to the right, left, back and forth as I leave the subway, cross the street, and scared out of my wits walk through a similar dungeon like corridor to get to the other side. By now I am scared. "It's NY, you might get mugged!!", "Its NY, People are MEAN", "NY is cold. People are cold.", "Its Manhattan, very safe, really!" Words of wisdom from well wishers floating through my head. In and out, in and out.

I finally get near the platform and not willing to take a chance ask the guy in a space shuttle like box near the entry way if I was on the right track. He tells me that WTC is on walking distance (he points at a map for me..and of course, he is correct). But do I want to walk? Abandoned street, quiet, dark, alone girl??? Noooopee. I just stare at the map. The old man goes, "But if you do want to just take a ride up to Cortland I'll let you take it for free." He buzzes me in. I thank him profusely. (Which means lots of "thank you very much" and thumbs up signs with a wide grin) Waiting for the train on the platform I think to myself, was that a heart beat? Was that a tiny little heartbeat of NYC? Maybe NYC isn't all mean and nasty and fast and individualistic and self centered as I though....Just maybe there is hope for warmth?? It took me a buzz into the platform, a free ride to feel this way. Nevertheless, I kept thinking to myself after that, NYC must have a heart someeeeeeeeewhere, deep within it. That beats loud and strong. But as the heart beats pass through all the chaos, concrete and cacophony of the city, maybe one feels it in the form of flutters and caresses of the city. Maybe I just need to keep my senses on alert at all time, and more importantly my mind and above all my heart wide open to let the occasional heart beats of NYC touch my own.

Day 1

I'm not really counting, but this really is day 1. I look outside and its like tihar in Kathmandu. Lights everywhere, some are colorful, some bright, some dim, yellow, orange, red. Never ending stream of lights and along with it people. The color of lights in the sky (and in NYC sky is equivalent to the buildings that tower over everything) are only defied by the ranging skin colors on the streets. Brown, black, yellow, white, pink, green, did I say yellow? More yellow if you go to Chinatown, of course! hehe...There is a traffic of people, traffic of cars, traffic of lives, traffic of achievers, over achievers, under achievers, losers, dreamers and everything in between.

I was just thinking, you know how if you look up at the sky in Kathmandu you see stars? Well, NYC doesn't have stars, and I think I might know why (even though this might have already been discovered). The building with their shining and blinking lights, twinkling lights make up for all the stars. The stars from the heavens above are all within reach, or within a illusional reach at least. The stars are too far away in Kathmandu, up in the sky, impossible to get, and one can only stand (or lie down) and star. But NYC, stars everywhere! So close by, just a touch away, a stretch of hand and there it is, bright, blazing, all encompassing. Only, these are fake stars. Man made crap. You have one power shortage and they all shut off in a matter of seconds. Our Nepali stars, the ones in the sky above always shine, through load shedding, windy nights, or rainy days. They never give up on us. Of course, they're out of reach too, we can only ddream of them, but we know for a fact that in Nepal, in Kathmandu, these stars are never going to stop shining down on us.