enduring ethnic pride 

the Monalisa smile 

No, it looks like the scene straight out of the Godfather. And Chinatown? Does it look like a scene straight out of Chinatown (the movie)?

Actually, on a Saturday, it reeks of fish and other unidentifiable food stuffs. But oh, is it colorful!

always the lanterns 

I like the name better than "Will-Kill" back in Madison 

Then you went down to the Lower East Side. Describe!
Well, first of all, these neighborhoods aren’t as distinct as you would imagine. The overlap is quite evident.

So which is it -- Jewish? Chinese? 

Lower East Side views 

Secondly, guess what the worst day would be to visit Orchard Street, the commercial hub of the old Jewish settlements?

Yom Kippur?
You got it! Brilliant! I was there! All those pickle shops? Closed!

Closed, but one can imagine the varieties  

still a place to shop 

a new pride in an old way of life 

have these changed significantly in the last 150 years? 

Okay, so you saw a neighborhood at peace. That can be rewarding as well.

In the doorway of a Synagogue 

What’s the Snooty district all about?
Don’t make me sound off about the rudeness of people that live and shop in and around Madison Avenue between 59th and 79th. Just don’t make me go there. Even though I had to go there. To make an exchange of a bag (not mine!) purchased from one of the snooty stores.

Oh, they weren’t cooperative?
They looked at it and they looked at me and they didn’t they say it, but they were thinking: "oh, she would try to repair a broken bag rather than throwing it away!" The second snooty exchange I had was of a political nature. You can imagine how that went. Ah well. I am about to embark on a Sunday in New York. That, btw, is a movie title as well.

(*for explanation of post title, see first post from September 22)

Thirty-ninth street pre-election diary*

Moving from the forties to the thirties (to be precise: 39th street, 39 days) is disconcerting: the streets change character, the election is getting closer. We are in a gray and grave area of town and a gray and grave period in time.

somber tones, somber times 

“An 1881 New York Times article refers to a tenement on this block as 'Hell's Kitchen': "Vice in its most repulsive form thrives here, despite efforts of the police to root out the horde of vagrants, petty thieves, and utterly depraved prostitutes who make the locality their headquarters." The name seems to have spread from the tenement to the entire neighborhood.”

One notable difference between the economic policies of the two presidential candidates is that Kerry is adamant in pushing for a 36% hike in federal minimum wage. I am reminded of 1938, when President Roosevelt signed the Fair Labor Standards Act, setting, for the first time a minimum wage for labor.

Variously called the fashion district or the garment district, you see store after store with rolls of fabric, button displays, sewing equipment.

store after store of wholesale and retail fabric 

an old-timer in the neighborhood 

Why are we still concerned today, in 2004, about working conditions and wage violations in the garment industry? Has it something to do with the fact that the recent administration has cut the number of federal inspectors, so that there are now some 800 wage and hour inspectors working for the Department of Labor, policing some 6 million sites? The DOL estimates that 4,500 of NYC’s 7,000 garment factories are sweatshops.

Diversions and excursions:

Everyone needs a break occasionally. A night at the San Gennaro Festival in Little Italy does the trick. Hey, what’s the difference between this and the Taste of Madison? Take a look and draw your own conclusions:

(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)

now that's Italian! 

supremely sweet 

you gotta love that Italian sausage! 

what part of town am I in? 

Italian sweets 

the best dessert! 

I heard it from the horse's mouth: I am NOT a New Yorker!

I went to Grace's Market this afternoon. It's a great place: you want to eat right then and there most everything on display. I was standing at a counter that had lox and olives. Many varieties of lox and olives. It was a bit chaotic -- no one paid attention to order, people were pushing to get their requests in -- a typical NY scene.

I stood next to an older guy who was intent on explaining to the seller which lox should be sliced in what way. I asked him about his preferences and before you know it, we were talking abou his impressions of salmon and my take on the economic climate in Poland.

His final words to me: "you're not a New Yorker, are you?" I said no, not at all and certainly not anymore. But I chastised him for blowing my cover: first day in the city and already branded an outsider! Upon finding out that I was from Madison, Wisconsin, he said -- "figures: I pegged you as living somewhere between Minneapolis and Madison."

Can you understand the annoying stereotype here? Not that Midwesterners are friendly, I can live with that, but that they are more friendly than Poles! I have been the way I am before moving to "between Minneapolis and Madison." But this was never even considered.

Ah well, in truth, he'd never been to Poland or to the Midwest. Figures. New Yorkers are so provincial.

Fortieth street pre-election diary*

East 40th Street 

Forty days before the election and things are getting ugly. Did I really read that Deputy Secretary Armitage chose Warsaw as the place to announce that he, too, thought that “terrorists prefer Kerry?” Of course, it’s not the line itself that is repugnant (indeed, one may hypothesize how it could even, in a perverse and not-too-complimentary to the current administration way, be true). Rather, it’s the electrifying fear that grips the listening public, as voters struggle to assess which leader will best protect the country during the next four years.

Will I find a distraction in the Manhattan grid of streets?

On 40th, you can still catch a glimpse of the Empire State Bldg. 

Walking along any city block, I stare at older buildings and wonder how many incarnations they have “lived” through. If you look on 40th street, not too far from fifth avenue, you’ll find the Daytop Village, which is the country’s oldest drug counseling service (founded in 1963). What was housed there prior to that? The building was the former home of the Republican Club. And, on the far west side of 40th, there stands the Metro Baptist Church. This used to be a Polish Catholic church, but it is now a progressive Baptist mission. Indeed, this is where Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter lived while working on their first Habitat for Humanity project. Poland, politics, presidents, poverty: the interconnectedness can be astonishing.

Next to the United Nations 

Is there nothing pleasing to the senses here on this narrow street that runs from the garment district on the west side to the smoke stacks on First Avenue? Money can, of course, buy the finest retreat into luxury. And here, on east 40th, I can take my Wisconsin-residing American Water Spaniel, Ollie, for a stay at the Ritzy Canine Carriage House. Inside, he can overnight either in Luxury quarters for a mere $65 per night (if he’d lose some weight, damn it, we could sneak him into the $60 per night category, but he’d have to shed 5 pounds and the dog refuses to take Atkins seriously, being utterly devoted to baguettes), or if I am feeling generous, I may let him stay at the Presidential Suite for $175 per night (there he’ll have custom bedding, toy chests, his own TV and VCR with a special selection from the video library).

A luxury escape -- for my dog. 

I would be slightly concerned that Ollie, not used to TV, may not fully appreciate the options made available to him. Not to worry, they reassure me. He can have his own private dog massage. The cost? $50 per hour. I have to wonder how they manage to work over a Chihuahua for a full hour – is there enough ‘dog’ there for the masseuse to tackle? But Ollie’s not a problem. He’s got a tendency to puff out on all that French bread. And, a massage might do wonders for his sometimes nervous disposition.

Though there is a lot to be nervous about these days. Approaching the east corner (oh! This was my “permanent home address” for one year out of my life, back in 1974), I am so close to the UN, so close, but not close enough to catch a glimpse. There are barricades. You cannot walk within 2 blocks of the UN on any side. The General Assembly is still in session. Bush is heading for Crawford, Kerry to Wisconsin, but the heads of state from other countries are still meeting to discuss the future. Perhaps they should hold off for 40 days?

*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of title

Go ahead, take my picture. I’m retiring tomorrow! I’ve had enough of this job. 

I am living a capitalist dream

Not only did I strike gold with the Polack's Profiles idea yesterday --it'll make me rich! (see post below), but I found in my mailbox an envelope from L'Etoile asking if I would accept a 100% salary increase and a bonus. Would I accept it? Would I accept it? I gave myself a few hours to consider and then I said yes -- unfortunately I said this during the same phone conversation where I told them I would be a no-show this week-end. I explained that the Chef de Cuisine and I had cut a deal: he'll cover for me at the Market as forager (that is my job) and I will cover for him in the kitchen as Chef de Cuisine any tme he wants me to! However, I do fear that the management at l'Etoile was a little taken aback when I said "Thanks! I'll take the raise and now I am going to save you some money because I wont be there this Saturday."

Of course, I cannot work at l'Etoile this week because I am at this moment flying to my second home for the year -- in New York City.

On the flight over, I was getting into the groove by reading New York Magazine and by dollar-bill-golly, I had another Capitalist Cacophony go off in my head. Amy Sohn's column described the miserable "friendship scene" in the city. It appears to be difficult, nay, impossible for new transplants to NYC to find friends. If you think you'll make friends just because you are social and nice -- forget it! And if you are the shy type -- pack your bags and go back to your friends back home, because you wont find any here. The only way, THE ONLY WAY anyone will consider you for a friend is if you pack a good "friendship resume" with something that marks you as a standout.

Where there is a need, there is a service that will cater to it and so if you are a New Yorker, you can indeed sign up for friendship-searching services. But those can be expensive. Socialcircles.com charges $1,275 just for the initiation fee. After that, it's $600 per match. If the friendship falters -- you do NOT get your money back. A user complains in the article that she is out the initiation fee and two $600 shots an has yet to find someone who'll munch popcorn and watch a DVD with her on a farily regular basis.

Worse off are people past their twenties: their friendship pool is quite limited as people in the more "advanced years" are either married and not particularly interested in meeting strangers, or searching to be coupled. No one in that demographic wants to waste time on being your friend.

A 35-year old newcomer to NY states:
I thought it would be easier to make friends here than in Chicago...I was completely wrong. Now I go back home and when people ask how it is, I say 'Love New York. Have no friends.' And I'm not even shy.

So here's my pitch: I move to New York and offer my services. I will be a friend to all the 'losers' who have failed to secure one. I'll be good for a bunch of emails per week to check up on things, a call here and there, and then a meet-up every so often, to do dim sum and maybe go to a movie. I'll listen to whiners, I'll tell stories from my varied past, I'll even do karaoke if the need arises. At, say, a $500 per friend per month fee and a six month commitment on my part, I'll be better than the going rate by a mile.

Now, if only I could think of a good name. Polack's Pals maybe?