Category Archives: Atmosphere

Departures

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Now that it is spring, while I’m sitting in front of my computer planning lessons for school, I keep the door to the balcony open. Today I returned from a short trip to see a friend for her birthday. So, I’ve been doing a bit of train travel. To see how the weather is coming and going from my balcony, I usually judge by the emissions from the factory on the outskirts of town. Romanian train station announcements are preceded by a bit of a computer generated sound (you know, like in airports.) Tonight I’m sitting here listening to Mike Malloy talking about fake Democrats and I hear something… its not so loud that I immediately recognize it but my brain does register it. So I pause Mike, wait half a minute, and then, wafting over from the train station, a 15 minute walk from my apartment, is the sound. I’ve never heard it here before. It must be a good sign.

Mid Hudson Crossing

Here I sit among the ghosts of livelihoods long lost. In this apartment building, ordinary, everywhere, anywhere, mothers, best friends, bitter ex-lovers. The edifice not far from here is a testament to past; built to last, it stands unused, shrouded in the fog of future’s night. Lonely tugs travel below it, bringing sleeping giants to new grounds. And though the streets thereby are dotted sporadically by festive reminders of the season, the plywood windows and metal shutters tell the true tale. 1880 the building reads, a placard on the side stubbornly states Redevelopment! Rejuvenation! but below that, For Lease. That which once vibrated life into the weathered walls of this and other workshops has left to far reaches of this world with obscure and outlandish names. Obsolete. And so to are gone the residents who once looked out from behind the plywood down to the street below. The street is still there, sure, but only furtive eyes ensconced in locked and alarmed automobiles see it and pray for green lights. And those who do not see the beauty that once was walk it, from the dollar store to the days spot where the cops won’t be. The sad sirens of forlorn firetrucks fill the air… and the fog rolls in.

Moonlight with Deer

It’s 1 AM on Sunday and I just got back from my job at the ___ Golf Club. Ya know, although working as function waiter may not sound like the best gig in the world, here it’s really not bad. I work with simply a great group of people. Half are young Americans like me, and the other half are Brazilians of all ages… some are waiters, some buspeople, others cooks. The thing is, everyone is good. Yeah, I know, good really isn’t the most descriptive word, but I think it’s the right one. These people are honest, hard working, and have a endless well of humor.

Just this night, the party, which was supposed to end at midnight, decided to keep going for another hour. There was a group of young ladies dancing and they didn’t want to stop. Despite the requisite grumbling among us about how we wanted to go home, I could sense that we were happy because our guests were happy (and very polite.) For the last two songs, my boss and two of the Brazilian waiters decided to join the guests on the dance floor. Me and the Vietnamese busman decided to watch…

And it got me thinking. Though these people had a working, but not completely fluent grasp of English, and would thus probably work service jobs for quite a while if not their entire lives, they are kind, they are good, and they enjoy a good 80’s song. Though I’m glad to be working here, I know that come January, I’ll be leaving for greener (or golden brown to be precise) pastures. Maybe that allows me the rose tinted glasses… But I’m glad I ended up here, rather than at some job stuck behind a computer. For all the good of the internet, there’s something irreplaceable about a good team.

Orange Glow

Today as I was driving to work, I came across a late autumn orange glow. I was about to turn onto a street that ran on the foot of a hill, so in front of me was just a bare slope of leafless trees. Though that probably conjures up a cold winter image in your mind, imagine the scene bathed entirely in a salmon colored light. The sun, low on the horizon behind me, lit up the trees and the leaf strewn ground below them, creating, if just for a minute, serenity among the wild. It was the kind of scene that makes you stop for a minute before moving along to the highways that beckon.