I'm an English Man...

...deep) in New York

Of course, I had the intention of writing to you weekly from NYC – but the
nature of the place is such that when you are not doing anything and you
think that it is the perfect opportunity to catch up with e-mails – an
alternative always comes along.

However, I realised from your responses to my last e-mail that the one thing
that I had forgotten to mention is why I was in New York in the first place.

Answer: To partake in an internship at the United Nations Secretariat,
working for UN Radio. For those interested my programs are all on the web
and I can send you a link and the dates if you wish.

Now the shenanigans that I have witnessed at the UN in that last month,
plus, would be entertainment in itself. But I do not think that I can send
out an e-mail about such things. But if I were to say a few words I would
choose to highlight the following:
· Since Iraq the UN has been thinking long and hard about its role in the
world. re: how exactly it is acting as a peacemaker and development agent.
This I believe shall result in a drastic shake up of the system, for the
better.
· Secondly, only after working here have I learned how true is the phrase
‘America has no allies, only interests’. These are interesting times …
· Thirdly, Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn are starring in Interpreter, which is
a film based at the United Nations (filmed in the evenings and weekends) and
for me it represents the underground politics that are pervasive.
In sum, I have been learning lots, being exposed to the best and worst sides
of human nature, the extremities of politics and the juxtaposition of hope
with interests and reality.

Now, there are a few small highlights that I would love to share, so when
you have a moment, on the bus, train or at the gym…print this out and enjoy
the read.

WIERDO’S
One day in April my li’l brother wrote me an e-mail, in which he wrote, ‘so
dear didi (sister) – what A-list parties have you been to recently in the
big NYC?’ When I read this I thought – bless, my little sixteen year old brother has
such a romantic notion of New York…cute but so naïve.

That night, after attending a Beethoven recital at Carnegie Hall (the
inspiration of some friends at work) I thought I would join another friend
at a house party, since the people I was with were going to call it a night.
It was rather far out and the whole way there, I kept wondering if it was
really worth it – I was alone, it was nearly one am, and it was raining. I
got to the given address and there were two drag queens dressed to the nines
outside the apartment block. Hummm…this was going to be another quirky New
York party I thought to myself.

But I did not imagine the type of quirky that I was to encounter. I took
the lift to the 40 floor and the doors opened out to an amazing penthouse
sweet, which was all windows. You could see the whole of Manhattan from the
outside, and inside there were the most bizarre looking people dancing. I
felt as thought I was in a time wrap and walking into the future at the same
time – lots of tall, skinny people with some feathered, some nude and some
in shiny materials, to name but a few.

As I walked through the crowd looking for my friend I learned that it was an
Icelandic fashioned designers 30th birthday party, and all her weird and
wonderful friends had come to surround her. Who was the cook – none other
than a chocolate wizard, the designers were pony, and the DJ – was none
other than Bjork. We danced the night away surrounded by weird everything.

But I realised that weirdos are not only at weird Icelandic parties, they
are teeming all over the place. On your way to or from work someone dressed
as a preacher, prince or parrot very well might greet you with a ‘morning
baby doll’ – they all seem to have a southern drawl too!

One definition of weird could be – one who looks or does something out of
the norm, and this can sometimes even be endearing. Imagine sitting in a
Starbucks, head down, editing some minidisks. Three hours later and your
head is still down apart from the occasional toilet break or phone call. I
am on my fifth disk, thinking that I will never be done, loosing my
concentration, when a note is slipped upon my table.

It said: We know that you are studying, and we really did not want to
interrupt or intrude, but we wanted to invite your for dinner at our
favourite Indian restaurant. I looked up and there were three faces smiling
at me – one of the boys said ‘Leaving in 15 minutes, but would wait if you would care to join.’ And so it was, before I knew it I was out with a Turkish girl, Pakistani Boy and Indian Boy. The evening was interesting to say the least!

ROLLER - COSTER
I hope that I am getting across that it is not all good / bad in New York.
Being here is a combination of the two, but having always the extreme of
each. So, I would say that my journey here so far has been like a
Roller-Costa ride. Likened to the transport that are the cities arteries.
The Taxis, are run by Indian or Pakistani Mafia and so need I say more;)

The Subway is a whole another story – there is a subway God somewhere who
loves to play subway jokes. What am I doing in Harlem again? You ask this
question to yourself regularly. Trust me, you are not there because you
wanted to go to Harlem, nor because you are stupid…but because trains here
just switch from the track that they normally travel on. So if you think
you are waiting on the platform for a train to take you in one direction,
you might find that another train that will take you somewhere very
different has sneaked onto that platform. Please do not ask me why. I am
constantly late here – more than the usual Mandeep lateness, because
whatever address you are travelling to you can guarantee that it will
consist of going across the city, which the trains do not do. Or that the
train you are on is express and so you miss your stop and ten after that.
Or that you were meant to be in the first three carriages of this particular
train if you wanted the doors to open at the next stop. The subway
seriously is a continual source of humour in my life.

Whilst crossing the road on any occasion you will notice how much anger in
the city – I really wonder where it can all come from. Almost everyday I
hear fowl language from either the pedestrian or the driver – a great day to
start the day. No wonder people come into work a little agitated!

One day I could not have been more anti New York. Fed up of being pushed
out of the way on the streets, fed up of the weirdos always looking, fed up
of the never ending claustrophobic towers that team over head and suffocate
you. It is dirty, rat infested, lonely, uncaring, and complete rubbish for
the mentally ill, who slip through the feeble social security net and wonder
hungry through the city. So as I got on to yet another over stuffed, late,
and smelly tube my only recluse was my diary. I put my head down and
scribbled away, and only ten minutes later did I realise that the girl next
to me was doing the same. I learned that we had an equally bad day – but
this is not such a big deal. Two and a half weeks later when I was on
another subway, writing about an excellent day – as I looked up I saw the
same girl again, doing the same thing. Now considering the population of
New York - that was incredible!

RELIGION
There have been some interesting religious events. For example, the Fifth
of April was Passover, perhaps on of the highlights of my trip so far. I sat around a
family table surrounded by my friends’ Jewish family and friends, and I,
being the only Jew there, felt so privileged to be getting such an insight.
Passover is a festival that resembles the journey of Jews from Egypt to
Israel, away from persecution. Before you eat a delicious but very odd meal
of many courses, including nut paste and crackers (!) you say prayers which
are accompanied by symbolic gestures. For example, at one part of the meal
everyone around the table dipped parsley into salty water and ate it – in
memory of the tears that were shed. ‘The other’ was mentioned on numerous
occasions in the prayers – ‘the other’ being the non-Jew persecutor, and
suddenly I did not feel so relaxed! But seriously, it was an amazing
insight into a culture that I feel that few non-Jews actually know very much
about.

Holi – for those of you that went to India with me via my e-mails will
remember the festival of colour that I described. The one in which the
whole of India becomes berserk and throws colours at one another. Well,
imagine I am on my way to the Statue of Liberty, for which you have to take
a ferry, when I come across a park with a hoard of white t-shirted college
students in it, of Indian decent. They were getting ready, physically and
psychologically, for Holi, New York Stylee. This means that you are
assigned a number – and since you are split into two teams there shall be
two people who are twenty nine say. Then you wait for you number to be
randomly called out, at which point you try to run to the pot of colour, to
get it before your counterpart, and splash the coloured powder all over
them. American over frantic organisation can only last so long, until the
whole game becomes a big free for all and everyone goes wild. By the end of
my time in the park I was red, yellow, green, purple, blue, orange,
pink…coloured all over, including my face, had some white flour sprinkled
over me for good measure. And then some real bright spark threw a glass of
water at me so that it would all become a gooey paste. The interesting
thing for me was realising that no one else in New York knew why you were
walking around like a colourful clown, and people, at the sight of you would
go wild – wild with their smiles, curiosity and humour.

This Sunday I went to a non-denominational Christian Church and I was blown
away by the energy. The singing and dancing was contagious, the community
of people spread their love throughout and the speakers were inspiring re:
Ravi Zacharias – check him out!

Saying that, religion has not been all that easy to swallow, either. Last
week there was a Pro Choice march in Washington. Apparently the largest in
the history of the Untied States. What surprised me however, was the
powerful way in which the millions of pro-life supporters got their message
across. In cities across the United States, pro life supporters simply
stand with larger than life billboards before them, that have the most
shocking pictures of bloody and deformed foetus’. I include this into
religion because in this case religion is used in support of the pro-life
argument.

SOME TRAVEL
Boston – we were tourists, and found the city to be wonderful, but Harvard
campus was letdown to be honest.

Philadelphia – went to build a children’s playground in the roughest part of
the city. Even our black taxi driver would rather have not driven through
to get us to the school.