Back to Nueva York?!?

Tuesday February 2nd

9am I take my dog to her babysitter where a papaya milkshake and fresh squeezed orange juice are waiting for me.

Around 11am I leave my house knowing that I will arrive at the airport just an hour before my international flight…or rather, I suppose, because I’m so Dominican I don’t actually know what time it is. I even stop to take out money and buy souvenirs for my hosts.

12pm The Dominican official gives me the incorrect customs form, again! And I have to teach her to read (my green card) in order to understand that although I am white, I am indeed a resident of the Dominican Republic.

1230pm I pass the last security gate and get to the top of the escalator just in time to here the guard say, “Inform all of the passengers downstairs that we will be taking off. We can’t wait any longer.” I made it!

430pm We touch down at JFK International, NYC and a U.S customs official tries to get a young American man into the “Visitors” line. Note: As not all white people in the DR are tourists, not all young men in sideways caps and baggy pants were born south of the border… And on that same note, not all Latinos in the U.S. are Mexican.

530pm Leaving the wintery chill in my dust I am picked up at the airport by one of my fellow PC volunteers, home on leave. He takes me to his sister’s toasty little apartment in Harlem where I exclaim, “So where’s this cold weather you guys have been belly-aching about?!?” What would seemed like a cramped dwelling in a compound of old housing projects to anyone else, is a welcoming oasis to me. The apartment has books, Internet, heat and hot water! And it’s ant, cat and rat free! They fed me delicious Indian food, we watched an urban education documentary and I slept like I hadn’t in weeks.

Wednesday 3

The morning I spend preparing for my interview and planning my strategy for the subway system. Mission impossible is to find something to wear for my interview on Friday. I see Times Square, Grand Central Station, a ton of new clothes, an Egyptian temple (the Metropolitan Museum of Art), and walk half the length of Central Park before taking a train back to Harlem. My hosts are already cooking dinner (even though I had planned to take them out), which we inhale while watching an old Jacques Cousteau documentary on the Nile. Then they refuse to let me wash the dishes. I cannot believe this.

Thursday 4

I have a sort of relaxed morning, though I begin to get nervous about my interview the following day. At 10am I take a train to New Haven. Bopping up and down the east coast is so easy…why can’t we get our shit together in the Midwest!?! (That’s a rhetorical question.)

After walking a mile or so, I find the apartment of some peace corps friends of mine. She opens the door and I am instantly awestruck by the 11th floor view of Yale’s campus and downtown New Haven. I cannot believe my luck.

The take me to an amazing vegetarian dinner party and I meet lots of New Haven nurses- and engineers-to-be.

Friday 5

Tours, interviews, cucumber infused cocktails and quesadillas. Perfect.

I come home to tired friends who have been working hard all day at saving the world one patient at a time…so I make them granola for the morning and we all go to sleep.

Saturday 6

We eat the homemade almond milk and granola and then my super friends are off again! The world needs more people who get up on Saturday mornings to translate at the free clinic!

I take one of my last hot showers, a final look at the view and I head out to have tea and bagels with a friend. Train back to NYC, subway to Harlem. Its too cold outside…I’m not moving until I have to catch my plane back to the subtropics tomorrow.

My host makes me another excellent meal and I have to insist on doing the dishes. I learn to use HopStop.com to plan my public transportation route to the airport. I never want to live in NYC but its cool to know how!