WRITING CULTURE 2012: Film, Food & Beyond

It was not eight oclock yet, my roommates were asleep while I went to the kitchen to get some hot tea with honey and lemon on a day like that. I looked outside of my window to see what was happening. It was superwindy, it rained hard, when I saw a huge flash coming from far away, like something went on fire and exploded. Later I found out it was a ConEd explosion, which caused a tremendous power outage. Giving the fact that I live in Harrison, NJ, and could see the explosion from there, it was pretty bad. I looked around and saw the water one house away from mine. It  felt like some idiot built all the houses steps away from the pond, and some houses inside the pond. I saw a couple passing by my house wearing flip-flops and winter jackets. They walked into the water towards their house, struggling with the water current all their way through before they got in. I rushed to wake up my roommates. By the time we came back to the window, we saw our house immersed into the water. Loud banging on the door. Our neighbor with a flashlight on his head, blinding us, asked us if we wanted to be evacuated. All three of us started panicking and running around collecting the most important stuff: documents, cash and some jewelry (that was mine). I also took a blanket and a book to read (how could I know we would spend a night in the library?). We had to put every precious item from the floor to the shelves in case of flooding. Two big firemen met us on our way to the bus, asking if there was anyone else in the house. They were evacuating people, but we found out about it from our neighbor. Chaos. There were only six people on the bus (including us). They brought us to the senior house which looked very neat and cozy.

Drying my soaked shoes and socks after walking through the water

There were a lot of people with big traveling bags,and it looked like they were on the way to the airport, and then got stuck there. They reminded me of the people who were forced into Nazi camps, who were allowed to take one bag per person and put there the most precious things. Many of them cried. A woman, a community worker, went over each and everyone with a cart full of sandwiches. There even was a choice: a white or a wheat bread with either turkey or ham and condiments on the side. When somebody wanted a juice or something she ran out of, she would go back and look for it and then bring it to that person. The whole senior center was divided into two parts: one was with the animals, another without. There were not only cats and dogs, but also rabbits and some types of big home rats in cages. It looked like the Noahs ark.

The shelters workers were apologizing for the warm water.

Some time later we were asked to move to the secondary school, which library kept me from going insane. The people who were in charge of taking care of the refugees gave us food and dusty cots. I had to take the last one that was broken and no one wanted to sleep on it. I felt this would be better than sleeping on the floor or on wooden chairs. The big TV in the cafeteria streamed the news about the Sandy.

The donated food we ate with pleasure

Children had the privilege in getting the food

I was not able to sleep well that night: babies who mostly slept on the floor with their parents were taking turns in crying, it was very cold, there was no ventilation, and the smell of diapers came together with the smell of sweat and food.

The library of the secondary school converted into a refugee center

On the good side, the government takes care of their citizens, and does all that is possible for better accommodation in emergency situations. After we came back to our house, we found out that the first floor got completely flooded and our floor was one step away from the water. Thanks god the grandmother who lived on the first floor was evacuated beforehand. Another plus was that I got to know all my neighbors after I lived in this place for three months. They are very nice and helpful people and I feel very sorry for their flooded basements and garages, but happy that we are all safe. God Bless America!

As you enter Bamiyan Restaurant on the corner of 26th street and 3rd Avenue of the first questions you find yourself asking is “will I try to be traditional and sit on the floor or will sit at a table be familiar”. I sat at the table because I didn’t want tradition to mess up my back. One of the first things I noticed were the Afghan rugs hanging on the walls throughout the restaurant.  There was also traditional Afghan music playing and the soft flutes were accompanied by strumming guitars which truly let you know you were not in an American restaurant.

 

As I sat down, I was greeted by the waitress who had a very pleasant disposition. I found out her name was Namia and she was from Nepal. I wanted to start off with an entree and after perusing the menu I decided on the Fesenjan($8.95) which the menu describes as “sweet and sour tender pieces of boneless chicken with walnuts and pomegranate juice”. I was very curious how walnuts and pomegranate juice could be mixed with chicken.  Namia brought out a basket of bread as well as my entrée and I was told that the bread was traditional Afghan bread and you eat the Fesenjan with it.  The Fesenjan tasted remarkable with the Afghan bread and the sweetness of the pomegranate juice went perfect with the lamb. I didn’t taste the walnuts in the Fesenjan but if they say it was in there then I have to take their word for it.

 

For the main course I had Lamb Curry with Basmati rice ($16.95). I was a bit apprehensive about ordering the lamb curry because the description in the menu described it as “lamb sautéed with fresh vegetables, lentils, curry and yogurt”. I didn’t know how yogurt and lentils would taste together but my fears were put to rest once I took the first bite. The lamb was was succulent and the curry and yogurt made a magnificent sauce that only complimented the already robust flavor.

Namia  asked if I wanted dessert but I had no room left in my stuffed belly, I did  however want to try the Coconut cream coffee I saw on the menu. I’m a big fan of coconut and to think that I could have it in a coffee was really exciting to me and for $3.50 it was no more expensive than a cup of coffee from Starbucks. After my first sip I was in coconut heaven and the coffee was sweetened perfectly as if Namia had known me for years and knew just how I liked it.

I had the pleasure of meeting one of the owners,  Sayed Nader Shah and found out he was political science major like myself. He studied Political Science at Columbia University and his brother  Sayed Ahmad Shah who is the other owner of Bamiyan was once a Supreme Court Judge in Afghanistan.  I inquired about a picture in the back of the restaurant where the VIP dining area is and he told me it symbolized an Afghan story about a father that goes to war without knowing that he has a son. The father and son meet years on the battlefield and not knowing he was his father the son kills him with an arrow.

 

I  think the owner needs to come out more and converse with the customers, he is truly an interesting man.  I felt the restaurant lacked personality and the only thing that screamed “hey, we’re an Afghan restaurant” was the fact the name was Afghan.  Hanging rugs throughout the place and playing middle eastern music doesn’t distinguish this place from the other Middle Eastern restaurants.  The fact it’s partially owned by a former Afghan Supreme Court Judge definitely does.

 

 

The weird thing about Hurricane Sandy is that I have both love and hate for her. I hate her because of the devastation she caused and the countless lives she ruined. People fail to realize that Sandy was also in the Caribbean and affected people In the Dominican Republic and Jamaica. I had a friend who was in Jamaica for business and she was stuck out there in her hotel room the hotel time and didn’t get to conduct any business. Sandy has really done a number on the world as we know it, and to think I did not really believe the forecasters when they said there would be a storm. Hurricane Sandy shut down numerous businesses and cost billions of dollars in property damage not to mention closing local schools. Now many of you are like “what’s the big deal with school being closed” but I want to remind you that if schools are closed those missed days have to be made up and more than likely the semester will have to be extended. A friend of mine whose children are in elementary school told me that the public school systems plan on canceling winter recess so the days can be made up. The only problem is that my friend has already paid for hotel and flight accommodations to take her family to Disney Land. See, there goes Sandy messing things up. I also found out today that in order to make up for the 2 classes I missed that I have to come to class on Sunday, what kind of crap is that?

Even though I have hate for Sandy, she does get a little love from me because she brought families and friends closer together. As a matter of fact she brought strangers together and made them friends. People in this world spend so much time avoiding their neighbors, their friends and families and this storm made us realize that you need these people in your life. Many strangers saved people from burning and flooded buildings, many family members made room in their homes for relatives they hadn’t heard from in months or even years. Hurricane Sandy made people think about something other than material possessions, they thought about their lives. Some people may have even made resolutions to do things different if they survived the storm and I hope that they stick to them.

As far as with me, Hurricane Sandy actually gave me a lot of one on one time with my girlfriend, we had the chance to talk more and enjoy each other’s company. We even built a shelf for our bathroom which was cool. I can’t remember the last time I put something together and everything went well. I even carved a pencil into a wooden piece that was missing from the pieces needed to put the shelf together. I can’t believe I even did that and I will always remember that memory. We also watched movies and played scrabble which is something I haven’t done since the early 90’s. It felt good going back to a simpler time when there wasn’t many distractions and you had to rely on one another for entertainment. I really was challenged by putting that shelf together and playing scrabble made my brain hurt but it was fun. I felt a sense of accomplishment. I’m curious how many families had conversations in one room for the first time in years. How many actually ate dinner together and watched TV together for the first time in years. That describes my love/hate relationship with Hurricane Sandy.

I’m in a state of beatitude. I couldn’t be more thrilled at the results of this election. It wasn’t a “fluke” as I’ve heard for the past few days that President Obama is a one-term president. It is kismet. President Obama has proven that he is a better man for the job.

This was my first time voting. I was upset when I couldn’t vote in the 2008 election. My birthday is in December and I wouldn’t turn 18 until then and you vote in November. But that didn’t stop me from encouraging my peers who were eligible to go out and vote. I made sure to register to vote this year; I know jury duty will call me soon. I was so excited to leave school to cast my ballot. I felt it was my civic duty, “Your vote really doesn’t count” I’ve been told by some friends. So what? Even if it doesn’t count, even if it didn’t count I was going to do it. Why? I had to for all those people who lost their lives to give me this opportunity as a black female. I was going to do it just because, I can. Voting is my right.

I didn’t listen to the news coverage as the polls came in from each state. I avoided tuning in to any news station like the plague. I disabled push-notifications from news application on my cellphone so I couldn’t get any alerts. I just wanted the final results. I just wanted to know if I had to pack for Canada or not. Alas, the results were in, “President Obama is re-elected!” my mother screamed. I ran outside to the living room, “Sweet baby Jesus he did it again! Yes!” I was so overwhelmed. I still am. My heart feels full of pride. I’m grateful to be apart of such a powerful election, legendary. Even through this economic crisis Americans still have faith in our president.

My eyelids peeled, eyeballs glued to the television set, owl ears alert, I had to listen to Mitt Romney’s concession speech. Most importantly I had to hear the presidents victory speech. I’m amused that Romney hadn’t prepared a speech in chance of defeat. Humility must have no place in the Romney home. However, I am satisfied with his speech. I didn’t really expect much. Almost an hour later President Obama spoke in perfect aplomb. I am awed by the presence of this man; he has this certain je ne sais quoi. My faith in his leadership is renewed, not that I ever doubted him. Sorry Donald Trump – NOT.

Is it weird to feel both somber and jovial at the same time? To laugh and smile while the world literally comes apart around you, while on the inside all you really want to do is cry? That’s the type of feeling watching Beasts of the Southern Wild, directed by Benh Zetilin, both encourages and evokes in its audience such as myself. Taking place in a post-apocalyptic setting where much of the world is being swamped by rising sea levels as the polar ice-caps melt Beasts of the Southern Wild focuses in on the story of six-year old girl named Hush Puppy and her life in a bayou community known as Bathtub. In between dealing with a sinking home and an ailing father, the melting ice-caps have also released prehistoric animals known as aurochs, which are incidentally migrating straight towards Bathtub.

It’s a bit more intimate then the last film I watched about global warming, which was Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth. Rather then discuss broad implications and general concepts, like Al Gore did, Beasts of the Southern Wild creates a microcosm for its viewers to absorb, watching the personal life of Hushpuppy play out in probably the worst case scenario of environmental disasters. And for the most part we see her and her companions confront said disasters with the kind of festivity that would make the orchestra in Titanic jealous. There is little or no somber remorse amongst the community of Bathtub, who live their lives like each day was there last… which it may in fact possibly be. But the good times do not in fact keep on rolling. Even the bubble of Bathtub, for all its lackadaisical resilience is not in fact anymore secure then the bubble of one’s childhood, which Hushpuppy must quickly grow out of in this harsh world.

By the end of the film audiences will be left with a simple but sobering message. No matter how much we run from out problems, whether they are our own individual tragedies or looming environmental disaster, one must have the fortitude and resolve to face them. Unless we can accept and embrace that message, we can never truly move forward. It’s not a new message, but Beasts of the Southern Wild carries it better through its ability to take complex issues and packaging them into an intimate and personal story. And the message resonates all the more because of it.

On election night I sat in a Thai food restaurant in the East Village stressing over not seeing election results live. I heard Mitt Romney was ahead and complaints about people having difficulty voting. Over my tofu satay, I began planning which country I would move to tomorrow.
The gentleman at this next table overheard our conversation and couldn’t help but laugh at American politics and encouraged me to seriously consider his country of Switzerland as an option if I really do decide to leave.
In 2008, I didn’t have Facebook but tonight I checked it constantly on my phone. I read news and comments from friends and expressed my disbelief that the election was even close.
When I made it home, I excitedly turned on MSNBC and was bored. I almost fell asleep listening to the dry repetitive commentary so I logged on to Facebook and Twitter and the fun began.
I was immediately connected with news sources and friends from around the country and could chime in whenever I felt the need. Maybe I’m just not a TV person and prefer interacting rather than watching.
As with Hurricane Sandy, I found more useful and relevant information on Facebook than from the mainstream media. During the hurricane I knew immediately when power went out in the East Village, information and pictures were shared instantly. Even relief efforts were rapidly organized through social media.
I can’t wait to read all the stories in The New York Times tomorrow but for election night coverage I’d like to thank Facebook and Twitter for being fast, fun and allowing me to state my opinion.

I cannot stress enough how blessed I am to be able to sit here and write this blog.  I have heard of devastating stories of families who have lost loved ones, houses being destroyed beyond repair, and thousands left to find refuge in evacuation sites.  My house lost power the first night of the storm and I am so grateful that it did not get any worse than that.  After a few days, we could no longer withstand the cold, dark nights at our home and made it to my aunt’s house which had been unaffected by the storm.  My greatest struggle for the past week has been sharing a bathroom amongst my family members.

News stations reported 24/7 coverage of the storm of the century and I certainly tip my hat off to them.  I’m sure it is exciting to be on the forefront of such a huge event but danger certainly comes into play when dealing with a storm of this magnitude.  It was absolutely mind blowing what reporters caught out in the field.  People were looting pharmacies in Coney Island, a man was jet skiing in the Hudson River, and cars being washed away like toys in a bathtub.  I was simply dumbfounded.

The hurricane certainly was a major disaster.  However, I found it to be quite the opposite personally.  After the initial shock and withdrawal symptoms of not being online or playing video games, I actually began to enjoy the powerless nights.  I am a big fan of post apocalyptic movies so I tried to imagine I was living out one of them.  I became a lot more productive after that simple perspective change.  I worked out in my basement by flashlight, cleaned my room, actually had a real conversation with my parents. It was a blessing in disguise losing power.  It made me realize how much we rely on technology and electricity to do even the simplest of tasks, how crazy people get without it, and how much I take these simple utilities for granted.

 

It’s almost impossible to walk around NYC today and not see an ad about voting or encounter some form of political campaigns.  There is a buzz about voting now that has escalated it to a social requirement.  Maybe its the rapid growth of social medias being used by politicians to reach the youth or Obama’s pop culture image.  Whatever the reason, its clear that despite hurricanes and blackouts, New Yorker’s are racing to the voting booths.

 

Mr.Kwan, glaring at the voting line, stops abruptly to snap a quick pic.  “Romney and Obama both are not qualified as presidential candidates.  They’re both giving out false hope and false lies to people in this country.  Both of them are not qualified leaders to take this country to a better place.”

Ms.Jones,  sipping her Starbucks, was waiting patiently  in line to vote.  “Even though Mitt Romney might think he has answers for our deficit, at this time, economically speaking, I personally do not go with his way of fixing our deficit.” She added “Even if Obama is still constantly, at this point, adding to our deficit, I have to think of myself and think that I need to retire on the Obama idea.  If I went with the Romney idea I will not only be losing as a middle class person but also losing and putting in more for medical.  In retirement I will be losing far more with Romney than Obama.”

Its evident that there is no clear concise winner here.  I stay around for a little while to gauge the crowd.  The room was lively and you could sense the excitement in the room.  Of course there was a bit of chaos here and there but that’s to be expected with any event such as this.  One things for sure, if you aren’t out here, you’re missing out.

 

I voted after work and I was determined to get my vote in even though I was tired and hungry. AND pissed at the way the election workers were handling the sites. Even though the line outside to get in the school was super long, it moved faster than the line I had to stand for my district. I stayed online in the cold for maybe thirty minutes. The line inside the school to me an hour and half. AND then we had to wait for a privacy booth. HELL NO, I filled my ballot in the open and scanned in less than one minute. That whole “system” needs to change ASAP. 

 

I think the picture below shows how millions of Americans including myself felt after hearing that President Obama was elected for a second term.  Although, I am not heavily into politics I am overjoyed to see a face in the white house that represents my community.

ALL PHOTOS ARE COURTESY OF THE NYTIMES.

My life hasn’t been greatly stymied by Hurricane Sandy. At the behest of Mayor Michael Bloomberg I roughed the storm at home, maybe roughed is an over statement. I live in Crown-Heights, Brooklyn, N.Y. I almost feel guilty for not experiencing such devastation as so many of my fellow New Yorkers. Maybe it’s survivor’s guilt? I don’t know. But I do know what happened is real. My brain is still dealing with the fact that it happened here, in my town, in my city. I cringe at the photos I’ve seen, bodies dragged from swamps, content of homes piled all around what used to be front lawns resembling debris, neighborhoods destroyed. I can’t even begin to fathom what it must feel like, to lose everything you own, to have loved ones missing, to be in a shelter, to not know what comes next.

New York isn’t built for this; I didn’t expect Hurricane Sandy to be so disastrous. I thought it was going to be another Hurricane Irene, rain and wind, nothing major. I couldn’t predict this. Even while Bloomberg announced MTA would shut down by 6p.m. Sunday evening and advised everyone to stay indoors, I wasn’t convinced, “I doubt it’s going to be as serious as they’re making it to be” I told my mother. But the more I read about the possibilities of what could happen, the more nervous I became. My sister and nephew still weren’t home yet; they were on the road making their way back home from Maryland. Bloomberg soon announced the likelihood of closing bridges, “Drive with a sense of urgency but safely” I texted my sister. It took her a few hours but I was thrilled when they finally made it home.

When the hurricane arrived Monday night, October 29^th my family was prepared. My dad went grocery shopping over the weekend, stocking up on: water, food, batteries, and other supplies. My mother, a great hoarder of safety supplies placed candles strategically around the house just in case the power went out. It didn’t. Lights only flickered. I read on Facebook and on Salon how badly Sandy already affected thousands of lives. I couldn’t believe it; all I heard was strong winds and saw rain. To me it was more like a heavy rainfall. The Internet and cellphone service was in and out, which was the most frustrating for me. But at least I could watch the news on television.

After the storm passed I was anxious to get back into my regular routine but knew it wouldn’t be possible. So much had changed within a few days, crippling New York. Lives have forever been altered. Mainstream media hadn’t captured the essence of what truly has happened. Talk of power outages in lower Manhattan is no big deal compared to lives claimed by Sandy. Many homes, communities, childhood’s, gone. Dreams have died; despair has taken refuge in the survivor’s.