February of 2014 was a whirlwind month.
It started like this:
I was flying back to the USA. I flew into New York (much cheaper), then got the bus to Washington. The opportunity to spend a day in New York City was there. I saw my friend T.A.
My grim-looking “hotel”
I would stay at a grey, dreary “hotel” (they were actually shared rooms, so it was a “hostel” — Maybe management ran out of money to pay for that extra letter, S, on the sign).
I arrived on Friday, Jan. 31st (Chinese New Year). Two days later was the Superbowl, an event I beheld with such indifference that I didn’t even know that it was being held in New York City till after my arrival.
In fact, grey, dreary, angry, arrogant New York was not quite as grey, dreary, angry, and arrogant as usual: The festive mood of the Superbowl lifted things up, I think.
The Superbowl! It’s not quite super enough for non-Americans to care even the smallest bit, though….
(I ran into a British traveler, huge backpack in tow, at the hostel that evening. He was just stopping over; late that very night, he was on to Mexico. I teased him, “Oh, too bad, you’re going to miss the Superbowl!” I asked him if he was familiar with the sport. His answer was delivered in typical British style: “I know what it is; I’ve never seen it…”). He was from Manchester, and surprised me by declaring himself a fan of the soccer team called “Manchester City”. A British coworker back at the hagwon in Bucheon, also from Manchester, was a “United” fan and hated “City”. I thought that everybody liked “United”. I concede that it makes no sense that a pro sports team would have no fans…I’ll have to rethink this.)
In front of New York Public Library
I would meet my Kazakh friend T.A. I would meet him way down at a place with the weird name of “Neck Road”, southern Brooklyn, where he was then working and living. I could make it by subway from the airport. That was my plan. I overestimated my own ability. With two heavy suitcases and seemingly no escalators or elevators in the NY subway system, it required a herculean effort to get there. I was unsure of the right way, and had to transfer several times, lugging the bags.
Two or three hours after leaving the airport arrival area, I arrived at “Neck Road” and met T.A. We walked around Manhattan that evening, as in my previous visit. He took my picture in front of the famous NY Public Library (at right), catching me looking down.
We met T.A.‘s Kyrgyz friend, who is in NY attending some art institute. They speak fluent English but Russian to each other. We had french fries and beer. I was back in the world of tipping. I had to remind myself to do it, when we left.
In our parents’ or grandparents’ generations, Americans and “Soviets” were officially enemies. The three of us are too young to actually remember.
Elsewhere that night, we saw the epicenter of the Superbowl festivities:
You won’t recognize it here, but at right is that famous street called “Broadway”. We passed it only briefly. I once suggested going back, but T.A. and his friend, being from Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan respectively, had even less interest in this Superbowl thing than I did.
It was alluring. I returned the next day (Saturday), alone, in the hours before my bus departed. I walked the entire length. Broadway was converted, that week, into “Superbowl Avenue”, filled with football-related attractions, prize giveaways, tents full of video games to play (with the latest football games), and a lot of other stuff along those lines. Most excitingly was the free “Superbowl pizza”, whatever that is. I didn’t get any on account of the “super”-long line.
I did get some pizza that day, though, which, at $1.00 per slice (tax included), was basically free:
Even McDonald’s put on a big “chicken nugget Superbowl sale”:
All around, that day, people were “cruising around” in football jerseys and hats:
Back home, by bus, it was, on Saturday afternoon.
I didn’t watch more than ten minutes of the Superbowl.
