Telegram Italiano

Midnight Subway ride with crack head{STOP}Got off in Little Italy{STOP}Saw a rat as I neared the exit{STOP}Screamed{STOP}Stepped out into a different country full of pizza, wine, and guidos{STOP}The dirty New York air was flirting with a different tongue{STOP}Closed store windows held pointy Italian leather shoes in captivity behind bars{STOP}The air smelled like urine and spices{STOP}miss you{CIAO}

Pressing PAUSE.... the place of the in-between

A place considered a "dirty nightmare" is the spot I chose; good old Penn Station. Although the stench of Penn Station is off-putting, I feel the most connected to myself here. When inside this underground dungeon I am overwhelmed by emotions. I find memories, sentiment, and hopes I have safely tucked away in the heart of Penn Station. I feel like as human beings, we leave little bits and pieces of ourselves in unlikely places. We can't carry the burden of every emotion or experience we have had, so we hide them in places, books, songs, and other people. I find much of myself each time I return to Penn Station, especially after being removed from it for a couple of weeks.

There is something so extreme about Penn Station that makes it so endearing to me. I observe the extremes of lifestyle within a matter of minutes. Its a place where I love to make up stories about the people I see and try to figure out where I fit into their lives (or don't). It's where I first discovered my sense of independence and purpose. I have always known I am a New Yorker at heart. All my life I could wake up at 5:15 to hear my Dad tiptoeing around and readying himself for work. Before grabbing his keys I would hear the "clink" of the breakfast dishes being placed in the sink and his fast footsteps to be sure to make his train. He'd drive to the train station and transition to his New York life. I lived for the days when I could tag along on "take your daughter to work day" or on a day that my mom would take me and my siblings in to enjoy the city. Something about New York feels so right to me.

When my parents and I decided freshmen year that I could take ballet classes at a school in New York on the Upper West Side I could not have been happier. The whole week I looked forward to the train rides, subway adventures, and walks through the hustle and bustle of Lincoln Center. There was so much to see and so little time! I'd begrudgingly get back to the reality of highschool and all its components on the train ride home. I get reminded of my young self every now and again while sitting in Penn Station. I watch young teenagers thrilled to be in Penn Station buying candy from Hudson News or taking a cab to whichever destination they have (because they'd have no idea how to get there any other way). It seems so glamorous and exciting to them, and was overly shiny and glamorous to me. Its that anxious, hungry, and limitless attitude that I like to remember when I'm sitting, exhausted in Penn Station waiting for that 11:11 train to board. After a long day of high school followed by traveling into the city for rehearsal or class only to return was exhausting, but SO incredible! I would never in a million years trade that for a more ordinary high school experience. Some people may think I missed out on some high school experiences…. I see it differently. I allowed myself to do what I was DYING TO do.

Penn Station acted as my buffer between these two very different worlds. It was like being in neutral territory. Hours upon hours of sitting in this place of the in-between has provided me time to think, reflect, and scheme. Right on 34th Street, Pennsylvania Station would be considered at the heart of the midtown hustle, yet I considered it a home base of sorts. Throughout the past four years, I would attend dance performances as much as possible. I just associate that feeling of pure inspiration and desire to dance with sitting in Penn Station. Utterly overwhelmed and ready to dance the next morning, my friday nights following performances made Penn Station a place to think about my goals and future. It made things seem limitless….

Energy is pouring out of each traveler. Its like this intangible electrical buzz that has everyone in the station moving and going. Very different people; different hopes, desires, and lifestyles all coexisting together. Collectively this pack of characters all are trying to achieve the same goal; getting somewhere… both physically and conceptually. This place has its cast of characters. The man sitting next to me speaking Spanish on the phone. The man standing at attention tapping his toes waiting for the train (because God forbid we New Yorkers wait for anything). The woman with a Prada purse and a briefcase drinking a soda from McDonalds. A man who sits oblivious, playing on his kindle with a beer in his hand and popcorn balanced on his feet. Where do I fit in? I don't, but that's Penn Station for you. That's New York for you. I was always so entertained by the looks I got from business women while I stood in the NJTRANSIT concourse with my bun on top of my head and a highlighter in my hand trying to read Shakespeare for english the following morning. The novelty of being unknown in Penn Station never wears off. Its exciting to see yourself mixed in with a group of new people each day. Or observe the same man on your train three times in one week.

Penn Station resonates with the me. It brings me back to my roots and reminds me why I am here and what my passion to dance is really fueled by. It iis a place of discovery and identity for me. Isn't that funny? The unlikeliest of places…

Lower East Side and Alphabet City

This Saturday, I ventured down to the East Village to have dinner and see a show with a new friend of mine. The moment I stepped out of the metro at Union, I saw hundreds of tourists exploring the city for the first time, taking lots of pictures, and just stopping to stare at the wonder that is New York City. At first I was annoyed by the large presence of people not moving, but then—as cliché as it sounds—I thought about how lucky I am to be living in the city that I had dreamt about living in my entire life, and I began to look around Union Square with a sort of new light. I walked through all the artists selling paintings, and various marketplaces that were all along the perimeter of Union square, and waited for my friend.

When I finally met up with my friend, he took me to a restaurant near the theatre called S’Mac. It was a very interesting place that makes all different kinds of Mac and Cheese. It reminded me of Noodles and Company that I used to go to all the time with my best friends, Adele and Kathleen. I got the “All American,” which was basically the classic Mac and Cheese. Inside was very crowded, so we took our food over to a park, where we ate, and stared at a beautiful church—I believe it was the Saint Mark’s.

After we finished eating our Mac and Cheese, we walked around Alphabet City until it was time for the play. While we were walking, I realized how different this part of the city was from what I am used to, living in and mostly hanging out in Midtown and the Upper East Side. The buildings were mostly less than 10 stories, and it felt more like being in a completely different city, rather than a different part of the same one. It just goes to show how large and diverse this city truly is. New York is, I believe, the greatest city in the world to live, and I honestly cannot believe that I now live here.

-Elliot

The Fountain of Peace

I don't know if I'm going to get credit for this because my place is not in a different neighborhood, but it's a place I love, so I'm going to write about it.

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This place is my favorite spot in the city that I've found so far. It's not some secluded, hidden grotto, buried deep within a random neighborhood in New York City. It's right in plain sight and is probably one of the most common places you can find, but for me, there's something very uncommon about it.

It's the middle of the day and the fountain on 59th and 5th is buzzing with tourists taking pictures, businessmen on their BlackBerrys walking to and from the Plaza Hotel, and other workers who come here to eat lunch or smoke a cigarette on their breaks. I usually come to this place at night, when there aren't many others here, so it's odd to experience during the day, however I still find the same comfort that emanates from the fountain. The cascading droplets produce a constant flow of ambience which sends peace splashing through my consciousness and sends soothing rippling through my body. When I am here, the shrieking sirens and blasting horns of the streets are suppressed. The bits of pedestrian's conversations mingle with the breeze so it seems the world is whispering in my ear. The wind takes minuscule water particles from the fountain through the air which filters out and purifies the smells of the city, for a sense of serene nature, aside from the occasional contamination of perfumes and cologne of the people who walk by.

If I stand up and walk around to the back side of the fountain, there's an entirely new aspect to this little haven of mine. There's a cluster of trees that provides shade and yet another layer of soothing for me: the rustling of the leaves. This place reminds me of home. If I close my eyes, I can be 300 miles away, standing by a river in the woods of the Adirondack Mountains with the wind blowing through the forest, until somewhere an angry taxi honks to bring me back to reality. Or if I look up through the branches and leaves towards the sun, and tilt my head just right, for a split second I can trick myself into thinking I'm standing in my back yard with my dogs until the wind shifts, and I see the skyscrapers through the leaves. Looking down, instead of Moxie and Sadie at my feet, there are pigeons pecking at cigarette butts.

The flashes of home and this feeling of calmness and harmony that comes over me when I come to this place is a pacifying and alleviating experience like none I've ever felt. I feel so comfortable when I'm here, as if all of my thoughts and worries seamlessly melt away and I'm left with a clear mind and simply, me. The stress goes away and I can just look around, feel the universe around me, and not worry about anything.

I wonder if the hundreds of different people who walk through here every day experience it the same way I do; if when they pass through on their way to somewhere else, they feel a brief sense of harmony and wonder what just happened to them. I guess all that really matters is that I can come here and feel comfortable with myself. I feel down to my core that this place will always harbor a sense of solace for me, and even though I am nervous about the future, I relish in the idea of having this little piece of serenity that I can come to whenever I need to escape from the world, wonder about things that don't matter, and daydream.

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Sorry if this isn't what you had in mind...

Hope in Hiding by Brianne Mavis



















A dot and I dash,
a dash and a dot,
a great big question mark.
Dark creeps in,
sound comes out,
this is what Harlem's all about.
Tight squeeze,
cool breeze,
a thought in you're head and now you freeze...
It can make your blood grow cold.

Sun in the sky,
birds in the tree,
party just down the block.
Strange new face,
different race.
"God bless you beautiful. You make my day!"
Things aren't always as they seem.

Despair on the sleeve,
hope in the heart,
all good things need a start.
Struggle for bread,
dream in the head,
work so hard until you're dead.
A tiny surprise can change your life.

Alphabet City

I recently took a trip to Alphabet City to see a show one of my professors had suggested we attend. Who would've known that I would suddenly enter an entirely different world while still in the same city I go to school in.

The atmosphere and the crowds that migrate through Alphabet City are some that I have never seen before. So many young college kids and "hipsters" roam around the Astor Place Train Station looking for numerous things to do. I have never seen as many Sing Sing Karaoke Bars on the same street as I did in Alphabet City. Restaurants of every cuisine and culture line the avenues and cross streets. Music playing from the insides of bars, tattoo shops, clothing stores, and the like fills every corner of the city. Groups of kids, adults, families, and friends are outside on stoops of their homes or simply waiting outside of a restaurant to be seated talking about what they've been doing that day, where they've come from, who they met on the way, and so much more.

It's amazing to see all of these different people all come to one place where they seem to have found a pleasing environment. People from all different walks of life have something in common somewhere in the world, and this place seems to be one. I would love to just sit on a stoop and listen to everyone passing me by, or even to watch what goes on during a normal day in Alphabet City.

People always say you will never see the same person twice in New York City, and I do believe this statement is true. But that is the beauty of the city, in and of itself. It is the cultural melting pot for people to learn and to be inspired by all different types of races, religions, culture backgrounds, stories, morals, views, and so many other things. I believe coming to the city at this point in my life was one of the smartest moves I could have made. I love soaking in everything I can about things I've never known of, and the city is definitely the place to be to do this. I believe this is where I belong, and I could not be happier.

What am I Doing Here??? --Darius A. Journigan

  I recently took a trip to Washington Heights to see a friend of mine. I'm still working out the subway system and am far from pro, but I managed. Originally, I wasn't going to go because I am absolutely terrified to ride the subway by myself. Somehow, he convinced me to suck it up and just do it. The ride wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, it was actually quite intriguing. I saw so many people who I could tell had been in New York for years; they had this look on their faces that was too uninterested to mistake for tourists, yet alert and aware, knowing all too well the things that can happen in their city.

  Then there was me; scared and scrawny, sitting all alone staring up at the map telling us which stop we're at. Totally oblivious to my surroundings. When I finally had the courage to look away from the map, I saw that the train had been filled with what appeared to be an entire gang. Black and Hispanic men in loose fitting jeans and black tees, most wearing dark sunglasses, all wearing nice shoes and shiny gold watches or chains. Of course at this point I was aware that I was getting closer and closer to the Bronx, the place that, though I have never been, I've seen many movies about. Enough to form a totally biased opinion of the place. So, naturally I was terrified. I slowly and discreetly slid the rainbow wrist band off of my wrist and uncrossed my legs assuming what I imagined to be a very "straight" posture. I counted down the stops until I was there.

 After 157th street, I was getting anxious. Would someone follow me off of the train and into the station? What about once I arrived and he wasn't there waiting for me? -- As the train came to a stop at 168th I bolted out of the train (at a brisk walk, never a run of course), up the stairs and out onto the streets. It reminded me of Detroit's east side, and though I remained cautious I felt increasingly more confident. I looked around me and inhaled a lung full of the polluted air of New York City. It relaxed me, and I was ready to continue the walk to my friends apartment. Unfortunately, after my first few steps through Washington Heights I lost the confidence I gained upon arrival and ran (again, briskly walked) across the street and straight into the arms of my friend who had watched the entire length of my mental preparation and laughed at me the whole night.

  Maybe one day I'll be able to take on New York's transit system alone at night...maybe. But until then, I'm perfectly content with dragging friends along with and walking as far as I have to!

~*D.A. Journigan*~