Tuesday, July 8, 2014

escape from new york

"Yeah we were a little stupid. We decided to go outside and kind of experience it first hand, the rain, the wind. It really was crazy. It was like walking in a shallow pool all along our block. We didn't realize until later that the few people who actually died from the storm were the idiots who decided to go outside and check things out for themselves." My roommate told me about Hurricane Sandy, the devastating storm from a few years ago. The one where the New Jersey shoreline was practically demolished, lower Manhattan was left under water for days, and people lost their homes, neighborhoods, power, everything. Many of the people I've met casually in New York bring up two events always, 9/11, and Hurricane Sandy. Even Sue had a crazy story.

"We didn't have power for I believe nine days. No power in a 17 story building. Can you imagine? Many of my neighbors are old and were trapped. I had to walk up multiple flights of stairs bringing them coffee and supplies. Me!" In San Diego, a small rain storm that lasts for 15 minutes stops traffic to a halt and causes mild panic. Thunder and lightning are so rare where I come from that when I heard the first rumblings of Tropical Storm Arthur, which did ultimately develop into a hurricane, I thought it was the A train below me going off the tracks. It wasn't. The sky was menacing, gray and black masses of clouds hovered above my best friend and I as we were rushing to the ferry to go to New Jersey. I was ready to leave the city for a few days and take in the peace and endless forests of the Garden State.

packanack lake  



Running along 12th Avenue, after another exhausting day, trying to make our ferry to Weehawken, we just missed the initial downpour. As soon as we were in the middle of our six minute boat ride across the Hudson, the rain came down, furiously. Large drops of rain pelted us from above. Huddling under the roof on the upper deck didn't help as the wind sprayed the rain in every direction. You couldn't escape. We looked at each other throwing our hands up in the air defeated, and laughing. My best friend kept doing the trick you learn in elementary school where you count the time between lightning and thunder to see how far away it is. 6 seconds became 4 seconds turned into 2 seconds, it was literally right over head. It was hard for me to believe that just an hour ago we were crossing 9th avenue avoiding the sun to walk in shade. The weather literally changed in an instant. We rushed off of the boat into the ferry station, our clothes dripping with sweat and rain, my scuffed boots suddenly shiny, her blackened feet rinsed clean.

My best friend's Aunt came to pick us up outside of the New York Waterways station on the New Jersey side of the Hudson river. I was leaving New York to spend the fourth of July holiday in Wayne, New Jersey with her relatives, my new surrogate east coast family. Driving on the freeway in the torrential downpour didn't phase my friend's aunt, who regularly drives around Manhattan, and through epic snow storms during the winter. It was extremely comforting that I was going to a quiet place, to unwind for a few days, enjoy the lush greenery of the surroundings, listen to the silence and be surrounded by a family. There were no bearded hipsters, music playing roommates or loud Jamaicans in sight, thank goodness.

One of the best things about living in a place like New York is discovering just how easy it is to leave. The ferry, buses, trains, three airports close by. Weekend getaways are mandatory, even necessary; an escape from the daily noise of the side streets and avenues of New York. Wayne, New Jersey is one of those picturesque New England towns you read about in Richard Yates novels, or saw in Norman Rockwell paintings. Time hasn't really changed the the neighborhood. There are no streetlights or sidewalks, homes have porch decks and ample space between them. The trees, the rolling hills of grass, and bodies of water are numerous and overwhelming. In San Diego, you have to build and design the landscape around your property, in New Jersey you build around the already established trees and foliage, the landscape controls you. Prospect Park by my apartment in Brooklyn is somewhat of a getaway but you can barely walk a few feet before maneuvering around a stroller, or coming across a vendor yelling "Cold water 1 dollar, cold water 1 dollar."

Hiking Ramapo  



* * *

Each day I think about how much I take for granted my family in San Diego, and the fact that we all live so close to one another. Going weeks without seeing them isn't such a big deal because you know they're only 10, 30, 45 minutes away. 4000 miles away is a little different. Even though I had only met my friend's Aunt one time before quite briefly, and none of her other family besides her parents and brother, I quickly felt welcomed and at home in their quiet little town. The house is classic and quaint, with steep creaking wooden steps, a piano in the living room, and a cozy den where I slept, a lot. The three days I spent there were filled with sleeping in, writing until my hands couldn't type anymore, and laughing with the family watching "Naked and Afraid" or "Million Dollar Listing". I miss cable. Oh and I can't forget the home cooked meals, spicy wings, classic hamburgers and hotdogs, arugula salad with balsamic dressing, BBQ ribs. I will never forget as the thunder was crackling overhead and the lightning was flashing in the sky Aunt's husband with his little umbrella outside flipping the hamburgers. Clearly the storm was not as big of a deal to them as I cowered on the couch in the family room.

On the fourth of July, the three of us went on a little adventure hoping to see the fireworks from Manhattan. For the first time in a handful of years the fireworks were on the East River side of New York, rather than the Hudson. Proof of how much Brooklyn influence is seeping into the cultural ethos of New York City. We drove about 20 minutes to a cemetery on a big hill where my best friend's Grandpa had been buried. Her Aunt remembered that that was where her Dad went on September 11 to see the towers fall. It was definitely a strange place to watch a fireworks show, but it was quiet and the view, even though we were quite far, did not disappoint. As the sun set, and the sky turned from light blue to a dark navy, and the fireflies started to dance in the grass then disappear suddenly like broken twinkly lights, you could see the silhouette of the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Between them the fireworks started to explode and didn't stop for almost 45 minutes. Throughout the whole outline of the island of Manhattan you could see the different displays between the shadowed buildings, some fireworks like falling stars, other like bursting red crystals.

During a vacation you often think about the things you have to do when you go back home, errands to run, things to clean, food to shop for. It was strange to think that after staying in New Jersey I wasn't going back to my home in San Diego but rather I was going back home to Brooklyn because that's where I live. I would be leaving the quiet and heading back into the noise, no more peaceful lake and endless trees, back to noisy bars and bustling delis. And while I thoroughly enjoyed my time in New Jersey, with an invitation to return any time I like (which I will take advantage of), I couldn't wait to get back to New York City, where I live. I still can't believe it.

feasting 
The backyard.
Infamous Gelloti's 

No comments:

Post a Comment