Sunday, March 27, 2011

NYC: 1/5: Are We Crazy?

 Prisca Edwards

 Prisca Edwards

 Sarah Crosby, Prisca Edwards

Danny Little (whose gesture sums up how we all felt by 11:30PM)

It's a little fantastic that we're all setting out on this week-long journey to meet some of the best in the business. We're a little crazy for attempting this at all when so many have failed. Day one they had our summer transfer class of 10 stand up and all but 2 (or 3) were told to sit. The two was the percentage of us who (masochistically?) would stick with it. Here we are to make it happen captain.  

Well, we made it and found parking around the corner from Hostel 104 on 1st Ave. We've hit some serious roadblocks since arriving but it's night and this is my fourth blog edit. It's not quite right and I keep taking pictures despite vehement protest from Sarah. 

I'm a born and bred New Yorker who's never really been to the city. I skipped and went straight to Africa, you know? My first impression of NYC it's striking similarities to Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. It's vast and busy with light and people bouncing all over the place. Occasionally, individuals pass through streams of light that penetrate the skyline and then they vanish into the crowd. Unfortunately, it's not warm here and you cannot sit on the roof and watch the stars above and people below. 

The pizza shop we walked to a few blocks away was like being transported out of the U.S. that I've always known. A few Arab guys operated the place and signs in Arabic were hung on the walls next to greasy signs depicting cheap, greasy food. I'm down for that for a few days. (For anyone in Iringa, can you say Hasty Tasty  New York?)

As I sit , women speak in thick accents down the hall, Prisca does her audio homework for multimedia on the other bunk and the wind tears through the skinny gaps between our building and the adjacent ones, hissing in the window and rattling the crumpled shades. It's good to be here, but it makes me miss Tanzania all the more which leads me to the first time I heard the Bordens at the Blue Heron in Arusha...

This band won't get out of my head!

The wolves inside me they never sleep,
They tear through my bloodstream and they make me weep...
So up the staircase where their bones now creak
Yet, he still makes her their morning tea
They sip the sunrise, they hardly speak
Decisions rekindled with a delicate kiss on her cheek
Just a girl who learned to fly
Just  boy who chased his dreams well
And those bright city lights never matched with the blues and the greens that she'd seen
- Heather's Song, The Way Much

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