Part V: Galapagos Bar and Art Space, Brooklyn, New York City, USA. March 2004
Originally created 3/8/2004I left the Galapagos Islands, Ecudor, fulfilled and re-energized, back to New York City.
Then, there came the coldest January in 10 years in New York. It was so cold that it made people very depressed. Last time it was this cold is exactly 10 years ago. I still can remember I was in Boston, in my second year of (very unhappy) Master program at Harvard University. It was very cold and I was very depressed.
I kept thinking about the tropical breeze of Galapagos and its stinging sunshine.
So I tried to return to the Galapagos. Or at least the other Galapagos as substitute, Galapagos Bar and Art Space, Brooklyn. At least I can look at the dark reflecting pool, once again.
No way, it was full. At least 10 people braving the cold, waiting in line outside, just tried to get in. It is my classical New York moment again - just think things simpler than they really are. Too many people everywhere, you have to wait to get to everything. And another of my classical New York moment again: Just cannot get what I want when I need it most. At the moment I felt all alone and depressed.
I usually can do well even when I am alone, am I? I still remember I could enjoy being all by myself, while on "the other" Galapagos. Maybe it is just because the cold weather.
Maybe it is just because of New York.
It was the Valentine's Night. While all my friends in New York (okay, there are only two of them) spent that night with their loved ones, I didn't even has a friend to be with. When I wanted some human connection, I had to to make long distance call to Washington DC, California, or even Taiwan. For once in a year, I suddenly feel the sadness (usually I don't, freedom is pricier than...you know) of being single. I could see the Empire State Building on the other side of East River. It was lighted in tender pink tonight, symbolizing the special occasion, Valentine's Day.
See that color through the cold night air, I just felt disgusted. What a vulgar commercialism. Isn't Valentine Day just another excuse to force people to spend money on gifts and luxirious dinners? This society always has some ways to make you feel inadequate.
Two weeks later, with the weather unexpectedly turning much warmer (and the miserable February finally over), I came back to this Brooklyn neighborhood again. Passing by Sea Thai, a Thai restaurant extremely popular by (non-Asian) hipsters, I saw maybe two dozens people waiting outside to get in. A few more "Pan-Asian" restaurants have opened on this block, though this neighborhood still looks unremarkable.
No line outside of the Galapagos this time. I got in and found there was a mini rock concert going on. They charged $8 for entrance to see the performance.
I was not in mood to see a performance at this moment. I just stayed outside of the ticket booth, looking at the dark reflecting pool, it was still moodily lit, just as my last visit, right before I went to visit the real Galapagos.
Just three months, how things have changed. Now I no longer work for the nasty woman at the Department of Health, and now I am on the verge of moving to another new city, once again.
I walked out of the bar. Looking toward Manhattan, across the river. Empire State was in bright red color and a touch of white this night. What did it stand for this time?
Checking the info on Time Out New York: Red and White, it is International Red Cross Day. So the Empire State Building does give regard to something less commercial and bullying, something symbolizing heart and sympathy. I suddenly have warm and endearing feeling about this city again.
I remember the heroine in the movie "Under Tuscan Sun" said "Unbelievably good things can happen, even late in the game."
Who knows? Maybe unbelievably good thing finally can happen (since most of the unbelievably bad things have already happened) between me and New York.
The End
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