Life of A Perennial Wanderer: 2012

Sunday, April 15, 2012

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Ten - Lower East Side Story III: On The F

Lower East Side Story - Part III: On The F

Originally created 3/16/2002

By now, you might have been so tired of hearing me complaining about New York's subway system. One of the most complicated underground transportation network in the world, this system has degenerated into huge chaos in the past few years. Of course, the September 11 attack only worsened things further. Closing of stations, constant rerouting, skipping stops, ultra-long delays, and occasional derails (yes, it did happened!) all makes taking subway trains such an unpleasant experience. Overcrowdedness, rudeness of New York passengers, which has been the staple of this city for decades, further contributes to our daily distress. While New Yorkers whine about the subway on daily basis, we just cannot get anywhere without it (try driving you will understand).

Similar to other cities, New York subways operate on color codes. There are red, blue, orange, green, purple, brown, gray, and light green (as if there should have been more than 7 colors on the rainbow). Different from other cities, New York has both numeric and alphabetic naming system. Thus, there are 1 through 7 trains (9 was just discontinued after September 11) and trains named from A to Z (but there is no H, I, K, O, P, T, U, Y). It seems after a while, you discover that what these alphabet really stand for. N is 'Never' (you will never get to Astoria), R is 'Rare' (Can we get to 'Rare-go' Park on this train?), C is 'Chronic' (Are we still in Brooklyn?), D is 'delayed', J is a 'Joke' (yes, it re-routed again this morning, that's why I'm late again!), and Z operates only 2 hours a day (it sleeps through... zzzZ the other 22 hours).

The addition of W (no relation to the President) last July displaced B and D and gave Q schizo-typical personality (now there are 'Diamond Q'/Express and 'Circle Q'/Local). After September 11th, 1, 2, 3 messed up with one another's routes and N, R disappeared for a few weeks. Still, the Metropolitan Transit Authority went ahead with another route change. A new line V spinned off from F while F itself runs on a new tunnel and G was adjusted to a new weekend service. Sound confusing? I guess you need a Ph.D. to understand New York's subway system. No wonder I am so underemployed: I spent too much of my brain power to figure out how to utilize the subway...

While I no longer need to take that (un)lucky 7 to get home in Flushing (out of that little ghetto 9 months ago), or very 'Rare' R to Elmhurst (no longer a subletter). Now F is the line I take (is this really 'F'requent and 'F'ast?).

Starting from Jamaica Estate in Queens (this is a marginal part of Queens. It gets scary when you wander into Jamaica Center), passing a few affluent neighborhoods in Queens, F gets into Manhattan; taking along 6th Avenue, snakes through Lower East Side and Chinatown, F enters Brooklyn without passing by any of the very overused financial district stations (thus avoid the post-September 11 disruption). In Brooklyn, several neighborhoods F passes became newly hip and extremely popular address. After passing another few immigrant-rich neighborhoods, F ends at Coney Island. For many reasons, I think F has the most interesting route in the whole New York.

After V started running regularly, F became an express train 24 hours. That makes it the fastest train in Queens (and very important, it brings my best friend from Briarwood to Manhattan to have brunch with me in shorter time). Making only one stop each in Kew Garden, Forest Hills (two of the most expensive neighborhood of Queens), Jackson Heights (with great Indian and Hispanic restaurants abound), and Long Island City, F fast approaches Roosevelt Island (the only train now goes into this small piece of land in the middle of East River) before it enters Manhattan.

With only 12 stops in Manhattan, it actually passes almost all the interesting neighborhoods there (No, I'm not a big fan of Upper East Side and West Side). It takes my Briarwood friend to Macy and Empire Station Building (34 Street, where she used to work), take me to Carnegie Hall (57th Street), Greenwich Village and Washington Square (West 4 Street), SoHo (Broadway-Lafayette), and back home (2nd Avenue/Lower East Side). Going a few stops north at 23rd street, I can go to a huge Barnes and Noble Bookstore and several department stores selling cheap garments and linens. 2 stops south, I can go to Chinatown (East Broadway, though this is actually not a very good part of Chinatown). For me, one of the reasons that attracted me to the current Clinton Street address is its approximity to the F line, which leads to many places I want to go.

F in Brooklyn doesn't really go anywhere near my SUNY office. It doesn't even go to the largest subway station (and the messiest)- Atlantic Avenue - in Brooklyn. However, it directly goes along Smith Street, now becomes a famous thoroughfare for good restaurant, posh coffeehouses, and chic boutiques. Halcyon, a coffeehouse/record store/used furniture shop, is possibly one of the funkiest places in town. There is a DJ spinning cool new sounds most of the time. And you can buy any table, chair, or lamp in the store you like since it is also a 'used furniture shop.' Besides the regular poetry reading, they even allow customers to 'guest' DJ-ing for a few hours at weekends. The premise is that you have to 'practice' first. Unfortunately, I haven't had chance to try my skills yet (but that at least guarantees my not being barred from it so far).

Leaving Smith Street corridor, F train goes elevated for one stop (with a good view of Statue of Liberty) before it enters Booklyn's most affluent and expensive neighborhood - Park Slope.

I didn't visit Park Slope until June 1999. When I got the job offer from SUNY in early 2000, I thought this would be the neighborhood I would live in. Tragically, Park Slope had become more expensive than even many neighborhoods in Manhattan. By the fall of 2000, Park Slope became so unaffordable that I ended up living in Flushing...I guess you all know what misfortune ensued after I started my Flushing days. No more iteration here.

Occasionally, I take the F train all the way to its final stop - Coney Island. But it is basically a summer destination, this is not a right season to go there.

Jennifer Lopez used to take 6 train from the Bronx to Manhattan for audition when she was still an unknown dancer. She named her first album "On The 6" in memory of the old, long past days. For me, every memory associated with my "On The 7" days (Flushing) was so bitter. I'm glad I will associate my last days in New York with this 'fast' and 'frequent' train.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Nine - Lower East Side Story II: Crossing Houston

Lower East Side Story - Part II: Crossing Houston

Originally created 3/4/2002

Crossing Houston (pronounced "how-ston" in New York, not hju-ston) Street, I am in the neighborhood of East Village.

A neighborhood I’ve always considered as my favorite neighborhood, in a city I formerly considered a favorite one in the world.

Interestingly, after crossing Houston Street, almost every street changes its name: Avenue B becomes Clinton Street (where I live); Avenue A becomes Essex St. (a recently installed "Don’t Honk" sign blocks 'Es' part of the street sign and makes it look like "Don’t Honk – sex" Street); 1st Avenue becomes Allen Street, etc. Even the number of streets are different on north and south sides of Houston: It is a long blocks between 1st Ave. and Ave. A, but with Orchard St. and Ludlow St. (both streets are full of chic and happening places now) sandwiched between Essex and Allen Streets; Between Essex and Clinton, there are Norfolk and Suffolk streets. Usually walking home along south side of Houston from the 2nd Ave. subway station, I have to walk about 9 blocks to get home. If I take the north side, it would be only 3 (long) blocks. You do the math.

Being so status conscious about the neighborhood you live like New Yorkers, telling people you’re from Lower East Side seems to justify people’s stereotypes about newly arrived Asian immigrants (LES is historically famous as being new immigrants’ first residence in New York). If I tell people I live in East Village, then, people might assume I am one of the bohemian-hipsters-turn-young-professionals. Even though actually I feel a little bit of both, I am physically a Lower East Side resident.

Spiritually, I feel more like an East Villager. Constantly, I cross Houston Street to 'the other side' for entertainment and good restaurants. Pioneer Theater, on 3rd Street near Ave. A, is possibly the theater I spent most of my money on movies. It is part of a pizza parlor-video rental store called "Two Boots" (mix the tastes of 'two boots' –Italy and Louisiana- into slices of pizza). Many second-run art-house movies have been shown here, including the re-release of Wan Kar-Wai’s "In the Mood for Love." Being a member of the Theater, I am also invited to many free screening. Just last week, I was able to see the screening of "in the Bedroom" and "Memento" for free. The weekly Tuesday night special new film screening series (this one is not free) is one of my favorite activities in New York. The pre-screening party includes unlimited pizza and beer (until the supply runs out). Very often the screened movies are really bad, but at least I get to have free food and drinks!

Two blocks away (long blocks, since this is the north side of Houston), Film Anthology (2nd St. and 2nd Ave.) offers a selection of even more obscure art-house movies. I finally had chance to see the full length of Theo Angelopoulos’s "Un Regard d'Ulyssis" (3 scary long hours!) this past January. They even hosted a "New movies from Taiwan" last May and had retrospective for relatively unknown Taiwanese directors like Wang Tong and Lee Hsing. There are several small film festivals taking places at Film Anthology every year. The New York Underground Film Festival will begin this Wednesday (March 6). I am ready for some dose of very bad experimental movies now (it might help me to appreciate the Oscar over-extravaganza later this month).

In addition to Pioneer Theater and Film Anthology, there are also Angelica theater and Village East Cinema for art movies. I saw Tsai Ming-Liang's "What Time Is It There" at Angelica, possibly earlier than any of my friends back in Taiwan. When I think about the movies I can see here, I feel fortunate to be in New York.

Dining outside is fun in East Village too. Unlike many other parts of Manhattan, restaurant prices here tend to be more reasonable. Few restaurants offer entrée price higher than $20. Varieties also rule here. I can find great Polish, Japanese, French, Thai, Moroccan, Tibetan, Indonesian, Peruvian and even vegetarian restaurants on or around Avenue A. When I want to have (very) cheap Indian food, I can go to 6th Street. There are possibly 2 dozens Indian restaurants on the block between 1st and 2nd Avenues (With that many Indian restaurants on the same block, I really doubt if they all share a same kitchen. I feel they all taste the same...). Another good thing to report, waiters in east Village restaurants tend not to be as snob and rude like those in SoHo or Chelsea. Dining out finally might actually turn out to be a joyful thing as it should have been in life.

And life just becomes much easier after I moved into Manhattan. East Village is no longer 30 subway stops away. After a night out, walking across Houston Street, I am back home, at Lower East Side.

Friday, April 13, 2012

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Eight - The Best of Time and The Worst of Time

On the last day of 2001, I went through a few stuffs on my messy desk: A lot of papers I xeroxed from the peer-reviewed journals (most of them are very prestigious). Among them, a pile of reprints of my own papers - the first published paper I have ever had in my all career (NOTE: By the end of 2011, this paper had been cited more than 120 times). I took out a paper bag with a drivers's instruction booklet and my New Jersey learner's permit, something did not to morph into a real driver's license after I failed another road test last June. And in one folder, there are full of travel reimbursement forms. It seems that I had made at least half a dozen business trips this past year. Among them are those fascinating destinations: Seattle, San Francisco, Savannah, and even my former home of Baltimore. I have never been on so many trips paid by my job in my life. A business card from a detective caught my attention and suddenly brought me back to that horrible September day when I was mugged. And of course, how can I forget that small plastic card, which is not actually green, I fought so hard to obtain just to have a better chance in my career opportunities?

I had them all, in this short year of 2001. It was the best of time and the worst of the time in my life.

And then, there were 911 and 411.

I think all of you will not forget the horrifying image from the day of 911 and I don¡¦t want to go into any further detail on that. As to the Apartment 411, I have to say I might just give up, for the rest of my life, the idea of becoming a homeowner in New York City. After two such tumultuous years of 1999 and 2000, it is just way too hard to think about that I had to go through another such personal catastrophe. I have been shattered and shattered again, will there be an end to all these misfortunes? I just have too many broken pieces of dreams to pick up now.

Then I moved to Lower East Side in the last month of this year. Finally a Manhattanite, finally brave enough to pursue what I really want and stop listening to those unhelpful opinions. The number of my new apartment of is 501.

Isn't it odd? 411-911+501 = 1. One

And this was my 2001, the Year One of this new century.

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Seven -Lower East Side Story

Originally created 12/31/2001

"I hear the clock, it’s six am. I feel some thoughts of where I’ve been..."

It’s in fact almost 8 am. I’m lying in my bed wondering if this is the time I should get up. Listening to music, this Jewel’s 1997 song suddenly came to my mind.

I’ve lived in four different places around New York in the past 14 months. Now I finally moved into Manhattan. Because my new place is only 3 subway stops from my downtown office, I now have almost one extra hour saved from commuting every morning.

I should stay in bed for a little while. It is so comfy here. And this is the first real mattress I sleep on in the past 14 months.

I sort of feel that I have wasted 14 months of my life. Most of the time wasted is, of course, on the very inefficient and disordered subway system. Now I can say goodbye to R (rare) train, to (unlucky) 7 train, and enjoy F train (F means frequent?) on most of my trip around town.

My new apartment is in an old tenement building. It is very small and the heating system seems a little bit dysfunctional. However, it is completely furnished, with a queen size bed, two bed stands, two beautiful lamps, and a dining table. Even the utensils are included. And it is fully carpeted outside of the kitchen and bathroom area. Since I will only live here for about 4 months, I don’t have that much time to complain anyway.

Tenements are the dominant style in the Lower East Side neighborhood. Most of them were built in the late 19th century when a huge influx of Jewish immigrants from Central and East European moved to New York and settled in this neighborhood. Originally called "tenant houses" from the Latin tenere ("to hold"), tenements were built as multifamily housings for the poor. Often, as many as ten people lived packed into one tiny, dark, and airless apartment, sharing as little as 300 square feet of space. Because most of the new immigrants were poor and worked on unskilled and menial jobs, tenement housing was the only affordable choice for them. A typical tenement usually is five to six stories tall with four apartments to a floor (My building has five stories with four apartments on each floor). From outside, tenements are tall and narrow houses jammed next to each other. Inside, apartments are arranged symmetrically along a central hallway. There are usually only two windows in each apartment, either facing the front street or rear yard. I was smart to choose a unit in the front, so I can watch street activities unfolded outside my windows. After the first legislation governing tenements were enacted in 1867, fire escapes became required facilities. There is one right outside of my left window.

Sunlight now sifts through the window blinds, onto my bed. I can hear the traffic outside (Construction workers renovating the new café across street supposedly have start their day of work already). It’s time to get out of bed.

"I break the yolk and make a smiling face; I kind of like it in my brand new place..."

The kitchen is in fact, tiny (I guess that’s why they call it "kitchenette"). I don’t even have a place to put my bowls and plates when I cook. The refrigerator is about one third the size in a regular home. The closet space...you’d better forget it. However, just like Jewel singing in the song, I kind of like it.

Maybe it is because of its location. Walking out of my building, steps away, it is the famous Lotus Club (35 Clinton St.). It is a dark café/bar with bamboo curtains. At daytime, it serves as a coffeehouse, with nice coffee, tea, and numerous selections of bagels (though their sandwiches are not really that good). They also offer many copies of Time Out New York (a weekly publication about New York entertainment and activities) for customers to read. On the other side of the rooms, there are wall-to-wall bookshelves with some second-hand books. At night, it converts into a nightclub, sometimes with live music performances. I rarely visit there at night (it is much more smoky when it becomes a "bar"). Very often in the morning, I come here to have a cup of latte and a scone, reading New York Times, before I head to work. Somehow, I haven’t been able to live a life like this since I moved to New York.

After having coffee and light breakfast, I walk south along Clinton Street to Delancey Street. Before reaching Rivington Street, I pass by some new boutiques, a new age souvenir shop, a tattoo parlor, and several restaurants. Among them, 71 Clinton Fresh Food (at 71 Clinton Street as the name suggested) has become so famous that on weekends, I see many very well-dressed people taking cabs here and line up outside for a table. The menu is with limited selections and concentrated on seafood. I haven’t yet dined there since I moved to this neighborhood. As you can figure out, it is not cheap at all (most entrée are around $23 and appetizers around $10). I heard the same family owning this restaurant will open another restaurant with a more affordable price – on the same block.

One of their former employees has already opened a chic café called aKa Café at 49 Clinton Street. Selling mostly Italian sandwiches and empanadas, food at aKa Café is more affordable. Just went to have my first taste last Friday and it is delicious and the way its food presented is very creative. But the portions are small, we ended up ordered two entrees, one appetizer, one soup, and one desert. adding up with two cocktails, it still cost us more than $20 per person. But we even saw the actress palying the mother in TV show "Gilmore Girls" dining next to us. She dressed just like us, black sweater and blue jeans. So TV stars are no different from ordinary people like us when they dine around New York. I think I will start to love New York again...

Crossing Rivinton Street, it becomes less trendy and slightly rundown. There are mostly Hispanic grocery stores (called “bodega”) and some discount shops. Several restaurants (much cheaper) selling Latin food can be found on this block of Clinton.

Reaching Delancey Street, I turn right to get to subway station for J, M, Z trains to downtown Manhattan. F (remember it’s my favorite line?) also makes stop here before it reaches Chinatown. There are a lot of discount shops along Delancey Street. Though this street has been famous for some Kosher (Jewish) restaurants and delis, now most residents in this neighborhood are either Hispanic or Asians. In fact, due to the large influx of new immigrants from China, Chinese population has spilled from Chinatown (at south) to Lower East Side. I can buy World Daily News (the largest Chinese newspaper in North America) right at the newsstand out of the subway station.

However, I don’t usually walk to Delancey when I want to do some shopping or eating. I usually walk north, reaching Houston Street. Crossing it, it is my favorite neighborhood in New York – East Village.

"Dreams last for so long, even after you’re gone...soon you will see, you were meant for me and I was meant for you."

Even after I no longer consider New York my favorite place on earth (Now the perennial No. 2 - Montreal- moves up to my top spot, just as default.), I found a neighborhood that is meant for me.

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Six - 25 Minutes

Originally created 12/24/2001

I had only 25 minutes.

After I got all the basic information from my friend Chen (he will be my guarantor for my apartment application), I had to run to the building to have a final check and decide which apartment I really want to rent. Then, I can submit application to their main office this afternoon. However, only the superintendent can show me the available apartments. He is only at the building from 12 to 1 pm. And now, it is 12:35 pm.

I didn't want to wait until the next day. I just had to move out of that New Jersey apartment as soon as possible. I could no longer stand to live with that witch…

Since New York's subway is so unreliable and messy, I really didn't want to take it to Greenwich Village and change to F to Lower East Side. It might easily take more than half an hour. So I chose to walk, one thing that I have been very good at.

From my friend’s office at TriBeCa, I took Watts Street east. Immediately, I crossed Canal Street, leaving TriBeCa behind and entered SoHo.

TriBeCa had become one of the most expensive neighborhood in the past few years. With so many celebrities moving in (including the late JFK Jr.), an one-bedroom loft in this area can price as high as one million. Robert DeNiro invested Nobu has been one of the most popular restaurants in New York and it is right at the center of TriBeCa. Walking past by these apartment buildings, I sort of feel they are characterless. A million dollars condo would definitely be overpriced .

However, due to its proximity to the World Trade Center, business in this area has been hard hit after the attack. Even rental prices starts to decline now. But it is still very unaffordable for most people, anyway.

Taking West Broadway and turning right at Spring Street, I was right in the center of SoHo. Once a favorite spot for artists and galleries, today’s SoHo is full of very expensive boutiques, mega-stores, and swamped by endless shoppers almost everyday of a week. However, the east-west streets are usually quieter than north-south avenues. Even Spring Street is right at the center of things, it was relatively unjammed at this lunch hour. I crossed Broadway, and then Lafayette, two of the busiest avenues in SoHo. There are so many fancy restaurants and coffee shops along the street, but I just had no time to stop to take a good look at their menus.

In fact, I have never been a big fan of SoHo. It is too commercialized, let alone I don’t really earn enough money to be a resident here.

After living in such a bad residence in Flushing for 9 months, I eventually had chance to move to a sublet one-bedroom in Elmhurst. Both are in Queens and I always needed to spend a lot of time to commute to work in Brooklyn and Manhattan. After my friend returned from Taiwan in late October, I had to move again. Forced to take my friend H’s place in a small apartment in Rutherford, New Jersey, I had started a daily routine with an even longer commute (usually 4 hours a day). Adding to that my new ‘roommate’ is so unpleasant to be with (fortunately H didn’t live with her).

My original plan to buy my own apartment has become the most tragic event of this century in my life (yes, personally, it hurt me much more than the 9-11). An inefficient real estate agent, two cowardly lawyers of mine, a extremely arrogant and malicious managing company who owns many apartment buildings, an easily manipulated seller, and a profoundly evil and greedy lawyer (representing the seller) from China all seemed to conspire to make my life miserable. Now the buying application was rejected and I have to hire a litigation lawyer to get my deposit back from the vicious lawyer. That deposit is a very, very huge amount of money, saved from last year’s salary, scholarship, and by staying in such a rundown and disgusting residence in Flushing.

So I don’t have much left in my bank account now. Worse yet, I don't have much left for me to trust other people. And with newly developed distaste upon the greed and arrogance of New Yorkers, my transition to Atlanta next April became a welcomed relief of my life. Since I will not have my own condo in New York, I don’t have to come back to New York after my fellowship in Atlanta ends.

So next four months would be my last days in this city.

Looking back what I have gone through in my life, this actually might only be the third worst thing in my life. But when I look back how much I loved New York and how eager I wanted to move to New York merely two years ago. It is heartbreaking to see it have to come to this bitter end.

Only four months left, for me, in this city I used call my No. 1 favorite in the world.

But I don't want to give up and I don’t want to give in. I want to make my remains of days in New York better than ever. I have to get over all the misfortunes collapsed on me by the evil denizens of this city and try to enjoy the good things only this city can offer.
So I have to move into Manhattan.

I turned north at Mulberry Street and officially entered Nolita. Nolita has become a popular heaven for some small designer’s shops and boutiques. This neighborhood looks understated but not rundown. I took a right turn at Prince Street.

South of Houston Street, you no longer find any east-west street named in numbers. Many street in SoHo have quite poetic names, spring, price, mercer…while the building I planned to move in is on a street with a famous name – Clinton.

Prince Street terminates at Bowery Street, a street described as "seedy core of New York lowlife" in Simone de Beauvoir’s "L’Amerique au jour le jour 1947." But that was in the 40's and now it is a different century. Crossing Bowery, I entered the neighborhood of Lower East Side.

If I move into the Clinton Street apartment, this will be my neighborhood.

Walking along Stanton Street, I found there are more restaurants and café along than I imagined. I know this area has gone through some real gentrification in the past couple of years, but the gentrification seems still going on everyday, even at this uncertain time.

I reached Clinton Street and turned left. It was 12:57 pm. Fortunately, the superintendent was standing next to the entrance, chatting with a staff at a café next door. So there is a café just downstairs.

I peeked outside the window of apartment 501, the only available unit facing the front. I saw the leaves falling, and drifting with winds, in this unusually warm November afternoon.

So I made an easy decision. And now, I am a Manhattanite.

It took only 25 minutes for me to arriving at my new neighborhood, even though it has taken
me 14 months to make that decision.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Five - The Longest Day: September 11, 2001

Originally written as an e-mail on September 12th, 2001

I am very touched by the e-mails and phone calls from many of you. I am still alive and not harmed by the horrible attack on the World Trade Center this past Tuesday. Though I still feel slightly mentally traumatized at this moment.

I usually work at the New York City Department of Health twice a week, mostly on Monday and Wednesday. My office is at the corner of Broadway and Leonard Street, which is about 10 blocks north of the World Trade Center (WTC was on Church Street, one block west of Broadway). On Tuesday, I work at SUNY Downstate Medical Center in Brooklyn and usually have a weekly meeting with my boss.

I really don't know what I was thinking that day. I rarely get into my Brooklyn office before 10:00 am. On this past Tuesday, I took G subway train from my residence in Elmhurst, Queens to Fort Greene, Brooklyn, to change to another subway line (usually 2 or 5) to Flatbush, where my office is located. G train is the only line in New York that doesn't get into Manhattan (It goes only from Queens to Brooklyn) and rush hour on G has never been as crowded as other New York subway trains. On that 40 minutes ride, I had already heard that a plane slamming into World Trade Center. I was slightly scared but did not think too much about it. Then I heard there were two hitting both towers. A man even started to yell crazily that nobody cares, this city is all fucked up, blah, blah, blah.

After I got out of at Fort Greene and walked to Atlantic Avenue station (possibly the largest in Brooklyn, with more than 10 lines converging there), I saw there was very huge dark cloud of smoke drifting out of Lower Manhattan. I found the situation is more serious than I thought. On the road, I heard another plane crashed into Pentagon outside of Washington, DC. I should have just gone home at this moment. But I still plan to go to my office because
I had a meeting with my boss.

The whole Atlantic Avenue station is shut down. I tried to take bus to get to Flatbush. The traffic was so jammed that buses just couldn't move. I heard people talking about how horrible it was when they saw people jumping out of Twin Towers to their death. It sent chills to my spin. I should have just got off the bus and gone home.

Well, I did get out the bus but I chose to walk to my office (What was I thinking?). It is about 3 to 5 kilometers walk, I guess. Along the way, more horror stories unfolded: The planes crashed were not just small planes (I thought they are small planes), but jetliners with many passengers, then I heard the towers collapsed. The first part of the walk was fine since I passed Park Slope, one of the most exclusive and expensive neighborhoods of Brooklyn. Then after passing the Prospect Park (Central Park of Brooklyn, as they say), I got into Flatbush, which definitely not as 'desirable' as Park Slope, or even Fort Greene. I planned to take another bus (B12) to get directly to the entrance of the building I work at. I was already late. I tried to call my boss, but the line was so busy that I couldn't got through. I did find a message from my father. He saw the news back in Taiwan and he was very, very concerned. That was even before I had chance to see any horrible images of this incident myself. I tried to call my mother but I just couldn't get through the busy signals. It must be very chaotic out there and all the phone circuits were busy.

Finally I made it through to tell my mother everything was okay and I was on my way to my office. B12 bus still didn't show up, I should have chosen to go home now. But then, I chose to walk across many blocks in Flatbush, alone, to reach my office. What was I thinking?

Then I was robbed, at gunpoint, by two thugs, right under daylight, two blocks from my office.

And merely two hours after the World Trade Center was crashed.

This is the first time I was robbed, after I’ve been living in the US for over 8 years, and after I have lived in such crime-ridden city such as Baltimore and Washington, DC, and after they said the crime rates in New York has gone down 8 years in a row. Then I found, the spot I was robbed is the block I walk most of the time after I got out of the subway station. It was not the unfamiliar part of Flatbush where I got robbed, instead, it is the block I am most familiar with.

Now I feel vulnerable.

In fact, I lost only $17. They didn't even bother to take away my credit card. I was so tired after the long walk and I just tried to walk away from the crime scene. I felt exhausted, frustrated, and angry. But for the most parts, I feel confused. I wonder, why this happened in this already horrible day. Then I felt even angrier.

Has the terrorist attack also brought out the evil people among New Yorkers?

As it unfolded, this terrorist attack is much more serious than I imagined. Possibly more than 6000 people were killed and tens of thousands wounded. Many subway lines have been closed, flights were grounded. All New Yorkers are affected; most Americans are affected and many people outside of this country are also touched. There has not been any looting or serious robbery arising yet in New York. New Yorkers have shown their compassion about each other and help each other out. Maybe I was just plain unlucky since I am the only guy 'looted'.

Maybe I am lucky. Because I wasn't physically harmed by the robbers at all. I only lost 17 dollars. My co-workers (whom I used to complain as ‘distant’) gave a lot of emotional support. Watching TV news, seeing those who have lost their life, lost their family and friends, or extremely traumatized by the escape process, I feel I am lucky. I did have a new friend who worked on 78th floor of Tower One. She just reached the elevator, waiting to going up, when the first plane hit. She escaped unharmed. She is lucky.

Of course, this week has been a very, very tough week for me. The difficult transportation situation as aftermath of the attack; loss of sense of security makes me take a long route to get to my Brooklyn office; a very important trip to Atlanta was canceled (since nobody could really fly out of New York); nobody care about a presentation that I had prepared with a lot of work (few people are in mood in any work anyway); and I might end up homeless again in October. Maybe the word "lucky" is just inapplicable to me at all. It is very difficult to cheer up with so many troubles surrounding me.

I know those troubles will not go away in a day or two, but the World Trade Center have. In fact, they are gone in 100 minutes.

I returned to Manhattan on that very same day of 9/11 (and managed not to get robbed twice in a day), after hiding in my office by myself for another few hours. I couldn't leave because I didn't know when the subway would run again and I didn't want to walk on the streets of Flatbush. Finally after changing four different buses and train lines, F brought me to west 4 Street Station at Greenwich Village. I should have remained on the train and it would take me back to Queens, but I decided to got out of the train, to see what the streets of Manhattan had become, 10 hours after the attack. Getting out of the Station, I was immediately on the 6th Avenue.

I remember, 6th Avenue has always been my favorite avenue. It was easy to orient yourself on this road because looking south, the twin towers of World Trade Center standing tall and glistening, while turning around and looking north, the spike of Empire State Building so visibly shining.

Now I look south, there is only a huge chunk of smoke. Something very significant is missing: the Twin Towers. But that is not the only thing gone. Other things have changed: I might not want to fly as often I have in the past years; I might not want to work in any high-rise building in the future; and I might not want to walk in most parts of Brooklyn anymore. Besides the disappeared Twin Towers, many things in my life, including the sense of security, just won't be there anymore. I started to feel very, very sad.

Finishing a bagel I got from a nearby deli, it was almost dark. I had to go home now (don't want to be robbed again). Walking back to subway station, I turned around. Then I saw the Empire State Building, still elegantly standing there. Once again, it is the tallest building in New York City.

It’s truly a blessing to be a survivor.

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Four: Landscape of Dreams

Originally created on 7/17/2001

Many things came to my mind the last day I was in Albuquerque.

I could still recall those places we just visited so vividly. The elegant Santa Fe, with all those cute adobe houses, Spanish churches, and nice small museums; The grandiose scenery of the Grand Canyon; the dazzling rock formations in the Arches National Park; the multiple layers of colors of Painted Desert in the Petrified National Park; the well-preserved archaelogical sites of Mesa Verde; and of course, the experience of driving through Monument Valley. Most of these have been things I wanted to see or wanted to do for so many years. This is the first time I came to realize them.

The landscape of Southwest is, indeed, dreamy.

I remember that more than 10 years ago, after I failed my third road test for driver's license in Taiwan, I decided that I would not take another test in Taiwan and got myself humiliated again (The DMV officers in Taiwan are extremely abusive, or just because I'm too clumsy?). In that very same year, I had a very odd but very compensating dream. I dreamt that I drove a SUV, across a barren and broad landscape, 90 kilometers an hour (around 60 MPH). I was humming Emil Chou's (周華健) "The Direction of My Heart" (『心的方向』it was a former No. 1 song in Taiwan, which is also a theme song for a car commercial back in 80s). For the first time in my life, I could enjoy the pleasure of driving, though it was just a dream. I still remember I woke up smiling, so satisfied by the dream I just had. I am not sure if the landscape in my dream looked like the Southwest, however. Eleven years later, this odd dream was realized.

I also remember after viewing my classmates' slide show of the Delicate Arch, how much I wanted to visit this national park. My 'date' with the Arch did not realize until the beginning of another millennium... And, when Santa Fe was briefly voted No. 1 most favorite destination (over San Francisco and Sydney) in 1994, I wanted to see how this small city is like. I also did not manage to realize the trip until 7 years later.

No matter how long it takes for me just to realize some of my small wishes, I believe that "it is better late than never."

For me, it is especially sweet that I could realize something I had been longed for after so many years.

It was a very full flight on my way back from Albuquerque to New York. There was a high school group of more than 60 students, taking their summer trip to Europe. I chatted with the two girls sitting next to me.

"So this is your first time to Europe?" I asked them.

"Yes, we are so excited about it!!" They said.

Then I talked about those cities they would visit in their trip: London, Paris, Amsterdam, Munich, Rome, Barcelona, Madrid.....it reminded me of the good time I had in my European trips before. They felt even more excited after listening to my stories. And at the end of their trip, they would have three days' stopover in New York. They were especially excited aboout asking a "New Yorker" about New York.

"Have you been to New York?" I asked.

"No, this is our first time to the East Coast!" With their eyes wide open, I know they felt no less excited about their "stopover" than the European trip.

I felt envious. I used to have days like theirs. I used to feel so excited about going to Europe and visiting New York. Now, after traveling to Europe 5 times and living in New York for 8 months, I doubted if I still could have that kind of passion like this. I just felt jaded and cynic.
I guess when some dreams finally realize, they become a part of your daily life. Then, there is no longer the excitement.

The plane circled above New Jersey for almost an hour. It was completely dark outside. It could not land because there was no space at the LaGuadia Airport. We had to wait, wait, and wait. Now LaGuadia is the most delayed airport in the US, just like the City of New York is the most crowded city in the country. It takes longer for everything because there are too many people, too many flights.

Finally, the plane stopped circling and glide toward New York. Beneath us, I saw Staten Island (and its huge landfill), the beautiful curve of Verazzano Bridge. We were in Brooklyn.

Outside the window, the twin towers of World Trade Center was ahead of us. Looking closer, I could see the traffics on Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan Bridge, and Williamsburg Bridge. I guessed it was quite congested down there. Behind the downtown skyscrapers, I saw the blue, white, red lights shining on the Empire State Building, and not so far away, the spiky rooftop of Chrysler Building. With all the neon lights and skyline, Manhattan at night is so beautiful.

The landscape of New York is, indeed, dreamy.

I suddenly realized the reasons why I had worked so hard and tried so many times, just for moving to New York. I was always dazzled and intrigued by this city's beauty and its abundance. I had always been longing for a city with so many cultural activities and diversity. This is a city where I could see "Yi-Yi" before any of my friends all over the world. It had been always in the lanscape of my dreams. Now dreams became reality. I get too used to it and no longer feel so excited. Or maybe I'm just getting old?

Maybe I just have too much to learn, about life, about dreams, and many other things...

And about driving.

Now I, am, home. In New York.

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Three: Escape from New York

Originally posted 6/15/2001

It is hard to see how a finally realized dream can turn sour and bitter, especially after you dream that dream for almost 7 years. It is not beautiful, just like finding out trapped in a bad marriage not long after you marry the man of your dream.
That is exactly how I feel about New York City now.

I tried to get in Columbia in 1995 but didn’t make it (ironically, I got into a higher ranked school in Baltimore). I tired to find a job in New York since 1997, even I was only half way through my degree program. After I graduated from my Doctoral Degree, I traveled to New York so many times on the uncomfortable Greyhound bus just for job interviews. I 'discovered' Park Slope, a very gentrified neighborhood in Brooklyn in 1999 and fell in love with it immediately. Eventually, I got a job offer at SUNY Downstate Medical Center at the end of 1999. Okay, it is in Brooklyn (and a not very appealing part of Brooklyn), not Manhattan. But it is still New York City. And I can live in Park Slope, which is not too far from the Medical Center, I thought.

Then after ordeals of the first 9 months of 2000, wading through the messes created by US Consulates in Canada and Taiwan, I finally was able to move to New York to start my new job and new life. I thought my dream finally realized.

However, after the overblown real estate hype in 2000, most of Brooklyn is no long affordable. Park Slope now is more expensive than anywhere in Washington/Baltimore metro area. Even the less heard Prospect Height, Carroll Garden, and Fort Greene are with average one-bed room starting at $1,300 or more. Manhattan is even more out of reach. So I had to end up in Queen’s and commute more than one hour (each way) to work every day.

At the beginning, I still could enjoy the long commute. On my way home, I always got off somewhere in Manhattan, went to have dinner at some small but nice bistro, or went to see some obscure art-house movies. I moved out of a friend’s place and moved into the attic of a Chinese-run guest house. With rent at only $500 per month (20 to 30% of what I could have found in Park Slope for the same size), I thought I could save a lot of money for many of my hobbies (such as: travels, of course). The attic is not very comfortable and the guest house is not very clean. It takes almost 15 minutes to get to the nearest subway station (then one and half hours' train ride to work). Since I decided to buy an apartment of my own in New York, I wouldn’t stay there very long. I thought.

Seven months later, I still live there. The daily long commute started to wear me out. I’m no longer interested in eating out at different restaurants in Manhattan. The rush hour crowdness on the No. 4 or 5 Express is so intolerable. While my research progress hasn’t gone very well, my social life really, really sucks. I did almost everything alone (unless my friends visit me from Central New Jersey), like a lost soul wandering in the Manhattan’s concrete jungle.

Eight months after I moved to New York, I still haven’t made any new friends outside of my own ethnic group. My co-workers are more distant than those in Baltimore and Boston. And this time around, I no longer have any classmates.

After I got sick from a very bad flu in March, I was in severe depression again. On the long subway ride to work every morning, I kept wondering it is worthwhile for me to have worked so hard, to just move to New York. Somehow, I missed past life in Taipei, Washington DC, Boston, and even Baltimore. I can think about one hundred reasons to love about New York. Then, I can find 101 reasons to hate it. There are a few of them:

Too may rich people around, I mean "very" rich people, so...
Things become very expensive. A Cosmopolitan (Martini-type cocktail, in case you don’t know) cost at least $7 at most restaurants and bars. They only cost $5 in Chicago
Subway system really sucks, constant breaking down and re-routing. But you just cannot live without it.
Rats, rats, rats...
Waiters with bad attitude everywhere. Hey, you might be a actor/singer/writer whose talents haven’t been discovered and hate your current job. But at least, this is the only job you get paid for...
Snobbish bartenders. Yes, I know what Long Island Ice Tea is not really tea!
How come it is so difficult to meet people in this city?

Fortunately, a trip to San Francisco in late March, a trip that reconnect me with several old friends, dragged me back from my depression. So I decided I should get out of New York more often (No, I don’t mean going to New Brunswick, New Jersey...).

Maybe my luck just turned around after that San Francisco trip. I was bumped out of a direct flight from New York to Savannah. However, I was awarded a $350 coupon. Two weeks later, I arranged a trip to Albuquerque, New Mexico. I will drive with my good friend around the American Southwest, for the first time.

"Is there anything fun there in New Mexico? I thought it is mostly desert?" Nelson, one of my friends from Taiwan asked.

"Yes, it is mostly desert and most places are very desolate and barren." I said.

"Are there very few people living there?"

"I guess so."

"Then, why going there? A place with all desert and no people?"

I didn’t answer. But I thought, after living in New York for eight months, what I need is a place with as few people as possible.

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series : Part Two: The Real New Millennium

Originally posted on 12/24/2001, written on 01/01/2001

This new day began with a "01/01/01" shown on my cell phone and computer.

Outside my bedroom window, the accumulated snow from a snowstorm two days ago doesn’t seem to go away. The temperature will be in high 20 degrees (-1 C to-5 C) for next few days, so those piles of snow won’t go anywhere for a while. It is so beautiful to see everything surrounding me covered by powdery white color. Even piles of garbage bags on the roadside (a lot of them in New York) don’ft look that annoying as usual. A song by Stella Chang (張清芳) "The Snow Fall too Early" (雪下得太早) suddenly popped to my mind. "Snow is the tears that heaven sheds for broken-hearted people, it just cover up all their wounds so perfectly." Maybe this is a good sign to end my year 2000.

2000, indeed, was the worst year ever in my life.

An extremely painful visa problem, an uncertain job situation, two rejected journal papers, five failed submission for literature awards, and a very uninteresting trip to a supposedly very intriguing country. People said it was the Millennium Year (a fake one though), and people said it was "The Year of Golden Dragon" (in Chinese lunar calendar). For me, it was a year of failed promises and broken dreams. I used to think 1999 was the worst year in my life, but then 2000 just claimed the honor.

Though finally I was able to start my new job and relocate to the city I always wanted to live for the past five years. The bitterness and uncertainty remains. The visa problem is not completely solved. No news yet from my re-submitted paper. The current housing situation is unsatisfactory and it took really long for me to catch up with my new job. But I know I will be productive in my work again. I will write more papers for academic journals and some new travelogues and stories for literature publication.

I spent the last day of 2000 wandering around New York, alone. I suddenly felt like to see the Ocean, so I went to Brighton Beach to see the Atlantic. The sand dune was also covered by a lot of snow and made it very hard to walk along. It was okay for me, I get used to challenge and now I should get used to all types of difficult paths in life. Looking west, I witnessed the last sunset of 20th Century. It was possibly the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen. Cold air seems to make the sky bluer.

In the evening, I went to a private party, watching the Big New Year’s Eve Countdown in the Times Square on TV. I was there last year but just couldn’t get much closer into Times Square. A first major failure of my 2000. This year, I would plan things not as inaccessible. Also I was told, only tourists go to Times Square for the Countdown, real New Yorkers don’t do that. This time around, I am a New Yorker.

Before the stroke of midnight approached, I pondered "All the bitterness will eventually pass. My heart will go on." "Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow is also another year, another century, and another millenium. Things should be different. If they aren’t, I will make them different." I told myself.

Finally, tomorrow is today.

Happy New Year and welcome to 21st Century.

Saricie on 01/01/01

[Old Articles] "Life in New York" Series ; Part One: Autumn in New York

Originally posted on 12/24/2001, written in November 2000

Now I call myself a New Yorker.

It's been exactly 2 months after I started this new position at State University of New York's (SUNY) Downstate Medical Center. From the name, you might not know it is in fact inside New York City. It is not as famous or in glamorous locations like New York University and Columbia U. but the institute is smaller and thus more intimate. It is also not as competitive and workaholic like in Johns Hopkins U. or Harvard. I also registered as post-doc back in JHU, so I still have to travel back to my well-hated Baltimore every now and then.
I moved to New York at the beginning of autumn, so I barely escaped the horrifying heat of summer. Unfortunately, due to the extremely high rental cost in New York, I still don't really have my own place at this moment. I slept at my friend's sofa coach for three weeks before I settled in the attic of a Chinese guest house in Flushing (a district full of Asian immigrants in the borough of Queen's, it's half an hour's subway ride from Manhattan). The owners are from Mainland China. Residents on other floors change on daily basis but there are always so many people in this house. I think I will move very soon. Since buying an apartment of my own may be cheaper than renting one, I am shopping for my first real estate property these days.

My job hasn't got too stressful yet. I have read a lot of background information and papers in HIV/AIDS prevention and epidemiology. The focus of our department is especially on minority women. However, I do have some problems to start my own research project. Indeed, this is not exactly the same field as in my PhD research (which is depression and suicide epidemiology). Long commuting from Flushing to Brooklyn (70 to 100 minutes) also wears me out often. I do have a lot of chance to enjoy the ever-changing scenes of New York. The very talked about "World/Subway Baseball Series" (both teams in the final are from NYC) was over almost one month ago, but I still remember how people in this city were crazy about it. I also went to the Halloween Parade on the last night of October, watching a lot skeletal puppets wandering on the 6th Avenue. There were also some small film festivals I went to. All the festivals had opening receptions, which served a lot of free cocktails.... Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get in the really glamorous ones.

A movie really impressed me is Taiwanese director, Edward Yang's (楊德昌) "Yi-Yi" (一一). I couldn't believe that it cannot find a releaser back home in Taiwan (but got one in New York). It is a really great movie. The family in the film lives just a few blocks from my parents' apartment and the kid in the movie even goes to Long-Ann Elementary School (the same as I), so I feel extremely intimate about it. It is very long (3 hours) but really warm your hearts. In fact, I think it is better than the Oscar winning "American Beauty". Too bad that Taiwanese moviegoers cannot see this movie anytime soon.

After a Thanksgiving break in New Orleans (11/23), I'm back to work again. Though it is officially still autumn now, I feel it is really winter. The Christmas is approaching, so I will see a shopping frenzy in this city. The huge Christmas tree will be lit up at Rockefeller Center and Christmas carols will be sung everywhere. For the first time, I will celebrate Christmas in my favorite city in the world.

After a long and harsh year, this should be a good way to conclude a millennium.