Transported

My commute home from the hospital involves a subway switch, among other things. Switching from the L to the G tonight, I just missed my second train. The swarm of passengers exiting that train ascended and flooded the stairwell that I was trying to descend. I pushed my way to the platform just as the train doors closed and the train pulled away from me. The hum from the rush of the crowd and the rumble of the train faded away to reveal a violinist creating the most amazing music! This young guy was playing a haunting Irish tune that I could feel through my body. I've heard of people making a violin "sing," but tonight I really heard it! The song was so beautiful; I felt it in my ears, my heart, my stomach, my liver, like my soul wanted to escape my body. It went on for a good seven minutes. A train came on the opposite track and its rumble blanketed the sound of his violin, but his body continued to rock and sway with the music he made. And when the train was gone again the violin's cries were the only sound in the station. No one chattered over his craft. When the song ended, he paused and then began to play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." I was so disappointed that he traded one soul aching song for something so pedestrian, until I realized that this song, too, haunted me under his influence. He transformed the Metropolitan Station on the G line into an intimate concert hall and when, in the middle of the third song, my train came and the closing doors and train rumble drowned him out, my eyes were moist. I didn't want to leave him. I hear music in this city every day: in the subways, on the streets, from my neighbors' band practicing on the other side of my wall, and from the iPods people turn up to drown out the city and street performers. But this violin wasn't like the noise of street performers--it was like a new mode of transportation.

MOVING!!!!

Finally, finally, FINALLY!!!!! So, I tried not to complain on here about how nasty Chinatown is, but it's gross. I don't know if you remember hearing how the Chinese government launched a campaign to curb public spitting before the Olympics (http://www.spiegel.de/international/0,1518,403921,00.html), but I didn't fully appreciate that story until living here. People hack and spit all over the sidewalk. They wipe their nose pickings on the glass entry way door of our apt building. They wipe them on the hand rails and anything else that happens to be around. I seriously began to wonder if there's some sort of cultural thing that makes spitting a sign of good health or something because the amount of spit and goobers on our sidewalks is wretched. It is one filthy neighborhood. Plus my Chinatown apartment still has no heat, even though NYC law mandates landlords provide heat from Oct 1-May 31. Today it's fine, but this past week was pretty cold and this coming one is supposed to be even colder.

However, this week I move! HALLELUJAH!!! And Friday I fly home to Atlanta to load a truck and help Rach drive up here with our remaining possessions. We're trying to sell most everything we own, b/c apartments here are sooooo much smaller than the space we had in Atlanta. We'll be living in a "3 bedroom" (which really means 2 bedroom with an extra nook) with a friend (Katie) in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn. If you know Brooklyn at all, this is near Fort Greene, which is not too far from Downtown Brooklyn, Carroll Gardens and Park Slope. We're definitely on the dividing edge between awesome/hip and kind of sketchy, which is what we can afford without feeling frightened. I'm sooo excited! There's a grocery and a laundry mat right below us, laundry in our building, trains are close, a cute thrift store around the corner and Pratt Institute (of art and design) on the next block--which means art supply stores and fun artwork right next door. BAM (the Brooklyn Academy of Music) is very close and word on the street in Manhattan is that they have better performances than you can find in Manhattan now, b/c space is more affordable out there and so that's were the major talent has gone. Have I sold you yet?
It's tiny but fabulous. And I haven't seen a single wad of spit on the sidewalk there yet. :D
(Don't be deceived if you think these rooms look large. That living room/kitchen is only 6 ft wide at it's widest.)

At work, things are chugging along. My Supervisor was out of town this week, so I got to co-lead the group on Wednesday with another first year SES. I really enjoyed it and thought it went well, but man did it take a lot of energy! I was really amazed at how much it took out of me. I felt like my brain was on overdrive, trying to process everything said and unsaid in words and body language, but remaining a calmly present guide. Holy Moly! Surely as I develop more skills and theory, this won't take so much out of me. The hospital work is going well, too. The system is very different and this hospital that is at least twice the size of Northside has only 2 staff chaplains (Northside had 6 staff chaplains, an SIT (that's what I am), and approximately 5 residents and 5 interns. There are no residents in this system. They got rid of that program in exchange for starting an SIT program (which they call SES and SCPE). It's just very different and though we hope to see patients within the first 72 hours of arrival, it's really not possible for everyone to be seen. I enjoy my site, though. I am well. Hope you are too!

It's been a while. I've been very busy with work and classes, but today I finished assembling all of my written work for my Readiness Consultation. The consultation means that several supervisors (folks who have already accomplished what I'm trying to achieve) review my skills, theology, ability to be present in the moment, etc and then they write a report detailing how ready they think I am, or what areas I need more work in, for progressing in my program. They get a binder full of my materials and on Nov 12 they get an hour with me to pick my brain and emotions. I'm actually feeling pretty confident about it. Ultimately, they can't kick me out, they can just point out what I need to work on--and that sounds pretty helpful.

So, today, as I was traveling to my office to work on my binders, I stopped at the green market in Union Square and found my family!!! (Just kidding) But I did find the Stokes Family Farm truck. I'm a big enough dork that I actually called my dad to see if there was any way these were my relatives. Turns out, no. The family farm is in New Jersey, and our relatives are in Maryland--they've spread out, but not to Jersey. Bummer :P


The Green Market is wonderful. I may have mentioned it on here before, but it's basically all local farmers who drive in to sell their own produce, flowers, herbs, homemade sausage, pretzels, home spun and dyed yarn... have I sold you on it yet? It's fabulous. I bought a homemade tiny sugar free apple pie there today and a pint of no sugar added pear sauce. :D

And, finally, I managed to get all of my work completed and mailed off to my committee members...

Better

Finally, after three weeks with no way to cook food, I have a kitchen. It's about the size of a normal kitchen in Muchkinland, Oz--which pretty much fits me. We don't have any counter top space for food prep, but I can deal with this. I'm so very grateful for the beautiful blue flame that appears when I turn the knob!

You might be able to see in the picture that we, once again, have the back of the sofa right up to the sink and stove. Either the sofa goes in the center of the room or my roommate's bike, and believe it or not the sofa is more convenient there. We would get a wall hang for the bike if we planned on being there very long, but I'm only in this apartment for one more month. My lease is good there until the end of November, but, drum role please.... Rachel is moving up to NYC!!! She resigned her job in Atlanta and will head this way some time around the beginning of November. Hooray!!!!! So, we're looking for a place in Brooklyn with a pre-installed kitchen! A friend of ours is going to move in with us, which will help all of us afford rent. I'm super duper excited!

NO CHEESE FOR YOU!

This is just an update on my pimento cheese endeavors. Getting around here is very exhausting as everything takes a lot more effort. Walking every where, even to do laundry, really takes it out of me and I really don't want to carry groceries 10 blocks back to my apartment. So I tried to grocery shop just in my neighborhood (Chinatown).

I feel like a foreigner. No one speaks English. No signs are in English. Fresh fish, dead fish, live fish, dried fish, dried shrimp, fish bones, etc are readily available every three feet-right out in the middle of the sidewalk. I found several little groceries and walked through--there's a lot of bok choy and other green things, fish of course, rice (soooooooooo much rice) and some fruit. That's it. No cheese. No one sells cheese, mayo or pimentos. No one sells loaves of bread. If you know this area and know where I should go, please tell me.

So, I bought a bag of rice, a bottle of soy sauce, a jar of Chinese Five-spice and a bunch of green onions. I'll use my rice cooker, since we STILL HAVE NO KITCHEN! I've taken to making tea by running the bathtub water on the hottest setting. If you've seen season 3 of weeds, where the town has to evacuate their ridiculously posh homes and stay in the excessively lavish evacuation center and they think it's just like the Superdome after Katrina--I'm living like that kind of refugee! Compared to the rest of the world, I'm a spoiled little white American girl, but this 3 weeks of no kitchen feels like camping.

This spoiled little white girl is rather homesick and really want to see Atlanta again soon.

May I have a finger sandwich, please?!!

Did you know that no one sells pimento cheese in NY? I'm realizing how southern I am in a lot of little ways. The first day I was here, my cousin, Colin, helped me move my stuff into the apartment and then walked me to lunch. We walked what felt like an eternity (though now I walk that much without even thinking about it). We got salads at a little market and picnicked in Tompkins Square Park. It was lovely! I noticed, and continue to notice, that I haven't been bitten by a single mosquito since I arrived. The constant itchy bumps all over my ankles have now healed. In Atlanta, I've been bitten by mosquitoes in the middle of December!
(side note--on my fabulous cousin: So, he not only took me for a picnic in the park and gave me his apartment, he also gave me his futon, bookshelf, dresser and nightstand. I'm sure all of this benefits him in someway too, and I hope it does, but holy moly he's been a huge help!! Giving me the lease alone helped me avoid major move-in deposits and extra costs. Thanks Colin!!!)

My co-workers/bosses in Atlanta sent me a gift basket and had it delivered to NYU Medical Center. My co-workers here were very intrigued by the basket--they said they'd never seen this type of gift before. I found that hard to believe, but it's probably a southern thing. The most perplexing fact for me is that none of these NYC apartments come with air conditioners. You can't rent an apartment in Atlanta without A/C. It's ludicrous to not install central air. But central air isn't included here--you have to buy your own window unit, like buying your own microwave. I didn't even know they still made window units!!

I'm feeling a little homesick, so this week I think I might make some pimento cheese and some bendictine. Bendictine (cucumber spread) isn't sold in Atlanta, either, but I grew up with it in Kentucky and I did make it once in Atlanta--I know, right? Only once. Whatever. I want some finger sandwiches. They're comfortable. They don't require a functioning stove or oven. I think I'll call everyone "ya'll" while I eat them, too.

Everything but the kitchen sink

I've moved from the poopy place into a smaller apartment in Chinatown. The first apartment was small, as evidenced by these photos. It was a basement apartment and you can kind of see that in the photo of my bedroom:



This photo of the kitchen cracked me up when I first arrived. The kitchen and living room are one entity and so small that the sofa was right up to the cabinets and oven.



I didn't fully appreciate how HUGE the old apartment was. The new apartment belongs to the same landlord and he's just renovated it. He moved "us" into this one to try to make up for the poo and other issues in the basement apartment. The "us" is because I've taken over my cousin's lease and the landlord thinks my cousin, Colin, is still the second in this apartment. I owe major props to Colin, but I'll explain that later.

So, this new place is sooooo new that we had no kitchen cabinets when we moved in, no kitchen sink and the stove and oven still aren't hooked up. I'm not complaining--there is no poo in my doorway and that seems like a really nice thing. It also doesn't have a "dead mouse cabinet," which is also nice. (When I moved in the first apartment, my roommate, Allie, said "don't open that cabinet--we found mice in there so we threw rat poisoning in it and haven't opened it since!" It was the dead mouse cabinet.) I hope you're getting a good laugh out of this!

My other fun fact is that my new bedroom is the same size as my walk-in closet in Atlanta. The futon Colin gave me hits three walls of my room. I have to shut my bedroom door to open the drawers of my dresser. This thing is like a sleeper car! When I was trying to figure out how to make things fit, Allie asked me how I was doing. I said, "I feel like I'm working a puzzle!" She laughed at me and said, "I can buy you a puzzle." It really is tiny. Even the appliances seem like they're specially built for me--the fridge is Leslie sized--it can't be more than 5'3"--I love it b/c I'm only 5'1". The oven and stove, which are still not hooked up, the tub and bathroom sink all look like they came out of munchkin land. I'm sure even goldilocks would find them too small, but for me they're just right! Now, if only we could get the kitchen sink...