Neither Here nor There

Summer doesn't seem to really know whether it's arrived in Manhattan yet; it's noticeably cooler than it was this time last year, and I was even (amazingly for mid-June in New York) rather cold last night. The reason why I can remember enough to make a comparison is that this time last year was the World Cup and also my first real involvement with JETAANY, as we held the pre-departure orientation for all the new JETs leaving from NYC. I - as always - was dressed impeccably in a suit, and remember being distinctly uncomfortable at the heat.

This year's orientation should be a lot of fun, though of course where I was unknown to almost everybody in 2006, I'm now going in there as El Presidente himself. I like to think that I worked my way up to the top through charisma, talent and strength of personality, but as we all know it was basically because nobody else wanted the job. Still, for this orientation at least I've done a significant portion of the work required to get all of the volunteers organised to give all the workshops and discussion sections. So fingers crossed.

I even get to give a short speech. I was going to make this joke:

"JET helps to dispel stereotypes, on both sides. I'm sure all of you have some pre-conceived notions about Japan, but bear in mind that the reverse is true. Many of the Japanese you meet will think that all Americans eat fast food, live in enormous houses and always carry guns. Though you might want to encourage that last stereotype - it'll make it easier to keep order in the classroom."

Now, of course, after Virginia Tech, I think it would be decidely unwise to link guns and classrooms in any way whatsoever. Oh well.

I've been working at about half-pace the rest of the time, inching slowly towards getting my papers and so forth done, and I also completed and sent of the application for the Mombusho (MEXT) Scholarship. If I get an interview, it'll be on the 25th of this month; I don't know for certain that I will, obviously, but I would be rather surprised if I didn't get so much as called in to discuss my proposal, which I thought was quite good.

Elsewhere, it was Kate's birthday, and making good on a long-held promise I took her to Megu for a culinary extravaganza. The place is simply phenomenal; the food, atmosphere and decor are all just unbelievable (though with prices to match). The two meals I've had at Megu have just been two of the best in my life, and on neither occasion did I leave feeling like I needed to go and get a slice of pizza to fill me up, as is not uncommon with some of the more expensive places, Japanese or otherwise. They do a 7-course prix fixe menu for $85 a head, which is actually fairly good value. I had beef and chicken tsukune, duck breast with sansho pepper sauce, lychee granita, and the best sushi I've had in New York. Kate loved it, too - a very successful evening.

And I'm back to the UK on Monday, so if any of the UKians are around, beers on.

Everything Can Change

Lyin' here in the darkness
I hear the siren wail
Somebody going to emergency
Somebody's goin' to jail - New York Minute, The Eagles

A few more details about Malik’s murder have emerged, though the whole affair is still distinctly sketchy (in both an north American and British sense). No-one seems quite sure exactly why he was shot, nor what relation – if any – the kid who pulled the gun was to him. Having turned himself in, the 17-year-old will now probably spend most of the rest of his life on Riker’s Island. Thanks for coming – see you when you’re 70, and thereby are two lives destroyed. Not that I have any great sympathy for the murderer. Perhaps what strikes me most about the whole incident is how utterly banal and pointless the whole affair seems. A guy goes out for a late-night visit to a crappy Chinese takeout and is murdered while waiting for his General Tso’s Chicken. The takeout’s cash register likely had no more than a couple of hundred bucks in it. And the next day life in this great city goes on, just as before.

I didn’t know it at the time, of course, but when Dad was here for graduation I took him to Citarella, the gourmet store on 125^th. We walked right past the Chinese where Malik was killed; my point was to show how Harlem was beginning to gentrify.

There was hardly any coverage in anything but the Columbia Spectator and the New York Post; even the other tabloids in the city didn't mention it. I don’t know why this should be; maybe it’s just that New York is too jaded to care any more, but the cynical side of me imagines a news editor making the decision that a black man being gunned down by black kid in Harlem isn’t that newsworthy. Same old, same old - what else is new?

Anyway. I’ve been working steadily on grant proposals and paper research, seeing Kate when time allows it, and attending or organizing various JETAANY events and dinners. Summer has arrived, and with it the hot inescapable stickiness that permeates the very air around here at this time of year and seems to cling to you as you walk down the street. It’s arguably worse than Japan; for all that people talk of the heat in Japan, my three summers in Tohoku were relatively mild, and I did at least have a salary on which to run the air conditioning.

Summer heralds migrations, especially in a University area like Morningside Heights. People leave – the lease for UAH housing is up, and on Thursday (the last day of the month) the streets were thronged with people laden down with backpacks and hoisting stuff into removal vans. Much like last year, I grabbed a load of stuff from friends and acquaintances moving out, filling in almost all of the stuff that I had lacked in my place. Small stuff, mostly – wine glasses, plants, a chest of drawers, even an air conditioning unit (which, for the record, doesn’t work very well – I’ve gone back to just using fans. They’re less expensive, too). The packrat instinct is strong in this one.