Friday, December 12, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Dinner with Danny
Tag you’re it. No you missed me. Danny, generous as always had tried to include me in his birthday celebration. Not quite up to my NYC or Blackberry speed, I hadn’t keyed in at the right time. Cut to me, being me, I ran downtown to learn that the message I was responding to that had no time/date stamp was for the party yesterday. Oh, well. As a do-over, Danny suggested that we go out for some African food together. I wanted it to happen quickly since I had gifts for him, and his birthday was now. We had a simple, sweet dinner grilled fish and a cous cous like yucca dish, replete with reminiscences of times spent in Brazil and life here in NY. He seems like the global daddy, nurturing just about everyone who crosses his path. What a wonderful present I got this year, 50, having him come into my life. Thanks.
Out of Work
Out of work
I chilled out, unloaded my stuff, ate some cooked food that Michele had kindly left in the fridge for me, and felt my way back into my house and my NY life over the next eight hours. I was too anxious to rest and it was too cold to go out. It was wonderful to hug Michele again, and know that this part of the journey was done. Seeing Cliff would be next. Once that was done, I could move on. Even split again. Later that evening, I began to sort through the GRE materials. I had about thirty six hours until my exam.
I awoke early the next morning, opened the books and struggled through the materials. I crammed, I read, I did sample tests and fretted a great deal about my capabilities in Math. The test came up fairly quickly, and I felt marginally prepared. The center was cool and the other folks seemed far from my reality. The proctors were all grounded, kind yet unyielding black women. Twice I was told that my Identification and locker key were not visible and could be grounds for disqualification. I had come too far and paid too much to lose it that stupidly.
I finished in a sweat, knowing that the essays had not come together to my satisfaction. In this techy era you can view your multiple choice scores immediately after you complete the test. Neither my Verbal nor Math scores were great. I felt like crap. To complete the picture I had scheduled a meeting with Ram directly after the exam. I took the bus north on Third Avenue from the GCT neighborhood and walked into Kidville in the middle of their Halloween party. Shazaam that was a culture shock!
I had a calm discussion with Rammy, talking shop, profit and loss, learning the foibles of the new Maryland store, and other blather before he finally told me that my job was toast. Layoffs had occurred the previous week. When I heard the names of the others, I realized that as bad as it was they were all ancillary employees, janitors, coatcheck a front desk secretary or stock person. Not anyone in management really. Quietly I raged, but I had seen it coming. The room outside of his office was awash with costumed kids and Dads, usually the Dad’s were more done than their children. To fit the model, the Mom’s had the requisite fashion statement status ensemble goin on. A few looked appropriately homey. Everyone was glad to see me, and I wanted to puke. I walked over to Madison, took the bus home and had a drink.
I chilled out, unloaded my stuff, ate some cooked food that Michele had kindly left in the fridge for me, and felt my way back into my house and my NY life over the next eight hours. I was too anxious to rest and it was too cold to go out. It was wonderful to hug Michele again, and know that this part of the journey was done. Seeing Cliff would be next. Once that was done, I could move on. Even split again. Later that evening, I began to sort through the GRE materials. I had about thirty six hours until my exam.
I awoke early the next morning, opened the books and struggled through the materials. I crammed, I read, I did sample tests and fretted a great deal about my capabilities in Math. The test came up fairly quickly, and I felt marginally prepared. The center was cool and the other folks seemed far from my reality. The proctors were all grounded, kind yet unyielding black women. Twice I was told that my Identification and locker key were not visible and could be grounds for disqualification. I had come too far and paid too much to lose it that stupidly.
I finished in a sweat, knowing that the essays had not come together to my satisfaction. In this techy era you can view your multiple choice scores immediately after you complete the test. Neither my Verbal nor Math scores were great. I felt like crap. To complete the picture I had scheduled a meeting with Ram directly after the exam. I took the bus north on Third Avenue from the GCT neighborhood and walked into Kidville in the middle of their Halloween party. Shazaam that was a culture shock!
I had a calm discussion with Rammy, talking shop, profit and loss, learning the foibles of the new Maryland store, and other blather before he finally told me that my job was toast. Layoffs had occurred the previous week. When I heard the names of the others, I realized that as bad as it was they were all ancillary employees, janitors, coatcheck a front desk secretary or stock person. Not anyone in management really. Quietly I raged, but I had seen it coming. The room outside of his office was awash with costumed kids and Dads, usually the Dad’s were more done than their children. To fit the model, the Mom’s had the requisite fashion statement status ensemble goin on. A few looked appropriately homey. Everyone was glad to see me, and I wanted to puke. I walked over to Madison, took the bus home and had a drink.
Heart tears on the way back into NYC
I had cried as I drove away from Vivaldo’s. Looking back through the rear window, I saw that he was doing the same. How did I make such a strong connection through culture and language, age and race so quickly?
All in all the flight was uneventful. Getting through to the flight was the rub. Henrique was right on time to pick me up at Rua Calzans Neto, Zeno’s place. We drove through Stela Mares on the way to the airport. I settled all accounts with him, and he gave me a hug goodbye. My NY cabbies like me, but don't hug back. At check-in they charged me extra for one of my bags which was a bitch, and I realized that I could have concealed it and kept the money for myself..oh well.
When I changed planes in São Paulo a few hours later, I was told at security I would have to forfeit my Jurabeba. I freaked, inside. There was significance to this bottle, that had nothing to do with its claims for sexual potency. I was forced to back out of security and look for a cheap bag to pack it into. That was a fairly easy and inexpensive equation to solve.
Back through security now, I had to be scanned and frisked, why I wasn’t clear. Bitch. I moved to the passport check and learned that Nicé at Brazilian Travel in NY had counted wrong. Instead of just being at 90 days for my length of stay, I was at 92 and now in violation. Shit.
Not knowing that my flight was about to be delayed I sweated the next ten minutes that this holdup would cost me my seat. Politely I half complained and half joked to the young Customs Official. He quickly said that if I missed my flight, he knew a Brazilian who would put me up, him. How odd, sweet and genuine. He had truly meant it. This is why I didn’t want to go. People embraced me here. I don’t know what my Juju, fairy dust or aura looked like, but something was operative.
His superior came over approved my passage after I signed an affidavit and was informed that I had to present a copy of it with my visa at my next entry into Brazil. Marked. I told them that I loved their country. I could have been singled out for worse offenses. Whew. I checked out Duty Free, had a final shot of Cachaça, bought a CD, and went to the lounge to wait out the new delay. On the plane, I found an extra leg room seat, my dream. Watched the Will Smith, down and out superhero movie, got a bit maudlin over all the goodbyes and drank cheap Argentinean wine all the way to NYC.
The late start meant that I missed Michele when we touched down. Instead of arriving at dawn it was close to eight by the time I got through customs. P.S. with no hassles at all. I had no U.S. dollars, so I was a bit jammed up initially. I found Jill at home, which was essential because I realized that I had no keys to my house. She offered to meet me in Harlem and let me in. I found a cash machine just outside of Baggage Claim, waited another hour for Super Shuttle and made it out in the chill, brutal winter wind to the van and began the final leg back home.
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