Going Places

Things I like:

1) People here are so polite and helpful.
2) You don’t really have to pay to get on the bus or train (technically you should pay, as with many services in life, but they don’t check)
3) There are mountains on three sides of the city, and then ocean on the other side. Beaches everywhere!!
4) It hasn’t been hotter than 70 degrees since I’ve been here.
5) Unlimited talk/data/text plans for $25/month with good service.

Funny things:
1) When you say you’re from Washington, you have to specify DC, or else they think you’re from the state of Washington. Ew.
2) They need two forms of ID when you buy alcohol or go to a club/bar.

Sad things:
1) A 6-pack of beer costs 12 bucks. An $8 bottle of wine costs $15 here.
2) Walking.
3) FOOD IS SO EXPENSIVE HERE!!!! I went to the super low cost market, and I almost passed out in the dairy section.
4) I still need to find a place to stay.

Snow-covered earth where footprints are quickly laid,
trees, bare, enclose us halfway from nightfall. It’s
easy to want in black and white, such
evenings lusciously crafted, but these

proud lights in fashion radiate siren songs
East-West in waves for capturing travelers
cold. We aspire to touch this source of
alien energy rising, sparking

each thoughtful man’s designed curiosity.
Static undone by prisms of molecules
breaks green and spreads a cloth, our homes are
afterthoughts that we cannot bring fire to.

—N.Y.

We stood on the platform, facing each other. You were looking over my shoulder, towards the side of the platform where the train would enter the station. I made sure to face the other direction, so I could be distracted by you. Our second goodbye was much more drawn out, and harder than the first. When you left me in New York, I didn’t know what was getting on the uptown E, but this time, I’m leaving something more meaningful. How long until the next train comes? The answer, announced in Hungarian. A beautiful language. For the previous 5 days, it had been a music in itself. You taught me a few words that I’ve since forgotten. Our dialogue that day was a little strained, a little childish.

—I’m really, really going to miss you.
—Yeah, same.
—I wish I could spend another day here. It’s beautiful.
—I have this feeling of just going away from here.
—Come to Maryland, we can get married in D.C.
—But it’s harder to get a U.S. visa. Besides, I want to study in Canada.

And that’s us. You, the realist, and I, the romanticist. So much love, but do we really know how to use it? We both smiled like we knew what we should have, but can’t have, what distance still hangs over our head, taunting, we reached, the train rushed in, the column of subway air flew before it, and in turbulence, we hugged and let go, and you looked at me like I was gone, and it stung. How long?

Train, then bus (200) to Ferihegy Terminal Two. Two planes to catch, Lufthansa, one layover in Munich, five hours, Nice-Côte d’Azur, bus (23), home.

If these stars were any closer, I’d talk with them.
I’d visit them, and we’d swap stories.
I’d ask them for some advice, seeing as how they’re so
ancient. I mean, I can’t be the only one who’s
at the ending of something that just won’t end, yet
still wants to delay what will follow. I feel trapped.
I’d tell them about my dreams of constellating
and taking one of those mythological names.
I imagine they’d say, we stars don’t get many
visitors—I mean, we live light years apart and
we’re in orbit. No breaks. It does get lonely at times.
But this vagabond way appeals to your generation.
You want the charming stress of a Bohemian life—
It ain’t for everyone. When you live in constant
motion, you sort of ghost through your days and people,
they’ll forget you who you are, and you’ll come back and see
how escapism strips you of identity.

You were here, and then you drifted
In your sleep, Lord have mercy.
Then, I didn’t have a clue how
To mourn, I’d seen my mom and her friends

Their wailing , and communal swaying
Like birds gathering to a fallen nest…
But I, I had no one to share
This with: My obsession with futures

Faded, pencil erased from paper
In 10 years you’ll be thirty
But you’ll be nothing where I am.
In another dimension, you’re doing

Well, and I’m proud of you and
Your family is growing, you’re still a drummer…
The birds circle and you don’t know
Which is the bereaved, they all croon.

We’re two so we display our infinite
iterations with no origin to find.
I look for us and I am there at times
it’s you and all I know of us is glass
illusions shrinking down to atom size.
Essentially, we’re hopeless and unmoored.

To be poetic: we’re drowned in untruths
To be direct: our niceties, counterfeit.
To quote a saint: We are he who stares
into a looking glass, turns and forgets
his face’s intricate design. So when
can love begin to end trust’s stalemate?

I translated this song from French to English. My friend had written the song translated it from Vietnamese to French. The song in vietnamese is 80 words, but Vietnamese is such an image based language, those 80 words translated into 200 words in French. So I had to try and condense those 200 words back into 80 words in English while maintaining the sense of it. I like the results.

I think about my garden,
the rain would come to soothe the day.

The voices of sorrows and joy
followed the wind.

The orchid’s perfume surrounds,
and fills my rested mind

I wait for the vendor
her voice brings joy
on the coldest eve.

The laughter of friends
I see their smiles,
from far.

The light from the Sitar’s sound
pushes the shadows out.

The lonely orchid, flowers
so too my mind.

Those nights, those seasons.
life came and went.

“Hey, that neighborhood is so working class and diverse. Struggling to make a living has always been pretty cool, and I’m definitely a trendsetter so I’ll move to that neighborhood with all of my money. They’re building a LEED Multi-Platinum apartment complex! You should move in too, they’ll probably build a Trader Joe’s or something. Ooh and maybe a Busboys & Poets!!!”

Rents increase for residents, and business owners. People who are less well-off have to move out, older businesses struggle to survive and many shut down, and the neighborhood is no longer socio-economically diverse. Coming to a neighborhood near you.