Friday was my last day at work. Seven of us went through the discharge paperwork formalities in the morning. If there were any bitter feelings about having to leave I didn’t see them. I left quite content, even elated. A chapter of my life has closed and a fresh one has commenced. Believing that all things are providential makes change easier to accept.
I felt like celebrating so I drove to Trenton and hopped a train to NYC. Manhattan is maybe my most favorite place in the world. The International Motorcycle show was this weekend so I walked to the Javits Center and joined the madness. It’s a big show, all the factories are represented. The stunt show this year was two young guys riding inside a globe. A third rider sat in a chair with a sour look on his face and a cast on his wrist, a silent testimony to how dangerous this stunt is. As in the past shows, there were many famous people in the motorcycle industry present and they are all very approachable. I didn’t see any rock stars this year; last year I saw Dee Snyder and a few years back, Lou Reed. After walking around checking out the bikes and talking with some folks, I went to the Times Square district and wandered around there till I had enough of that.
The #1 train took me to 104th street where the International Hostel is. This was the first time I tried this establishment, it was good, much better than the flophouse I stayed in last time. They put me in a room with seven young Europeans. I chatted up a German named Sebastian for a while; he was in the States serving a three month business internship.
Downstairs they had an internet café, store, restaurant, kitchen, pool table, and a big television room with a library. I was lying in a beanbag chair in the television room and the guy next to me asked me where I was from. His name was Cesar, and he was from Saltillo Mexico. I will be near Saltillo in two weeks. He spoke English about as well as I speak Spanish (not too good ). We talked for four hours, trying to learn from each other. Talking to Cesar caused me to remember how difficult and frustrating it can be to convey simple things in Spanish, things that I can convey effortlessly in my own language. As I review in my head the things we talked about last night I realize he was successful in cementing in my head a better understanding of some of the grammar. It’s a lot of work to learn a language. Sometimes I will put a whole sentence together, grammatically correct, and spit it out with perfect pronunciation and I get a great sense of satisfaction. That’s what keeps me going. It’s like the long distance runner. He slogs it out day after day, and it is not getting any easier, then a day comes where he catches his “second wind” and goes twice as far with less effort and then he is “hooked”. He returns time after time hoping to experience that euphoria again.
Seven more days and I fly to Texas and the adventure starts. There is still a long list of things to do be ready, but all is on track.
