I have found that since moving to the big city, even the most dull days seem exciting to people, like walking the dog: "You're walking the dog--in New York! AWESOME!" And I suppose, in a way, they're right. Walking the dog through the streets of New York does offer one different sights and sounds than letting a dog out in your backyard. But, it's still walking the dog. There are some days though, every now and then, that feel like honest-to-goodness "New York Days", filled with real adventure. Yesterday was the first, full "New York Day" I have had since arriving a month ago.
I started the morning out trying to get to a train I had never been to before and treking through a Puerto Rican neighborhood where I was on the receiving end of several men shouting "Have a nice day at the beach!" (I was wearing a bathing suit top under my shirt, I will explain later) or "Gorgeous!" or "Hi there!" or the like. I haven't found the appropriate response to these men. I've heard stories of local women responding with angry gestures or exclamations, and really what are these men trying to accomplish? Have they ever had a women start talking with them as a result of one of their cat calls? I usually just smile and start walking faster. It's really awkward when they're standing there and you don't respond and then they keep eyeing you all the way down the block. The really persistent ones will plead with you to stop, "let me take your picture" etc. Anyway I digress. I was late getting to the train and so late meeting Jessamine for brunch in the East Village.
I arrived at the Flea Market Cafe and dined on Caramelized Apple Pancake while wondering what Jessamine had up her sleeve. We have been friends since high school and she moved up here right after college so she knows about all the cool New York secret stuff. All she had told me was to meet her at this cafe and bring my bathing suit. I imagined her taking me to a rarely-visited gem of a public pool in the basement of a museum, or whisking me to a labyrinthine system of sprinklers in the corner of a forgotten park. I had seen a family who had gotten off the train at the same time as me wearing bathing suits, and I thought, could there be some sort of indoor water park I didn't know about? I was intrigued.
After brunch we walked around, and did some casual brousing in an antique store, and then, out of nowhere, Jessamine stops on the sidewalk and says, "Do you know where we're going?" "I have no idea!" I said. I love surprises but am rarely surprised in my normal dog-walking life so this guessing and maybe not even getting close was fantastic. She points up to reveal a sign that reads: "Turkish and Russian Baths".
Jess explains, "I've been wanting to go here forever, and now I've tricked you to come with me! There might be naked men inside!" I was simultaneously mortified at the thought of large sweaty naked men and further intrigued by this mysterious locale. "Great!" I said. We ran inside.
The place, was, in fact, authentically Russian. Think the sauna in Eastern Promises without the knife fights. We put our "valuables" in a safe deposit box and then were given another set of keys for our "locker" from a man who spoke with a Russian accent and seemed to be a fan of gold jewelry. In the locker room we put on our suits and shorts and flip flops and I noticed a sign that read, "On co-ed days you must wear shorts, if you don't you must leave." We went downstairs to the "baths". There were six different rooms to try, each one was hot and offered a different experience. The redwood room smelled of pine and offered a crisp, dry heat, while the aromatherapy room spat out hot smelly steam which stung your nostrils when you breathed. After sitting in one for a few minutes (there were also signs outside each room that said "Sitting in this room for more than 30 minutes can be seriously harmful to your health") you walk out to a small pool and plunge yourself for as long as you can stand it--the water is absolutely freezing. The effect is supposedly cleansing, relieving your body of toxins, and after getting out of the freezing pool you do feel quite refreshed, though wading through it is so cold it's mildly torturous.
The strangest room was called the Russian room. Here the look was reminiscent of a prison from medieval times. There were stone walls and wooden benches to sit on. In the middle of the room there was a well-looking structure with buckets. People would go over, dip the buckets in the well, and pour cold water over their heads when the heat became too oppressive. (And indeed this one was the hardest to sit in, it took labored effort to even move over to the buckets). Another funny thing, the place offered "spa treatments," and the five or so people trying to hock the treatments would come in and ask you every few minutes if you wanted a mud bath or an oak leaf massage, more in the style of street vendors trying to sell you a rolex than spa employees, and each time more earnest than the next. In the corner of the Russian room one of the street vendor guys was giving a man the oak leaf massage, which consists of him thrashing your back with a large clump of oak leaves. It looked terrible. After it was over street vendor guy literally had to drag the red-faced man out of the Russian room. Then he gave him some sort of pep talk and patted his cheeks and left the man sitting there, looking half-dead. If anyone ever offers you an oak leaf massage, I would think twice about it if I were you. I'm just saying.
The clientelle was actually a lot of young people, and a lot of women. They were also shooting some sort of "independent movie" while we were there and there were these "actresses" running around with scripts while a cameraman and a light man followed them, dragging cords through the standing water all over the floor. Fearing electrocution, we retreated to the sundeck to dry out, and left feeling 10 pounds lighter, like we'd just done three hours of hot yoga. And I was very happy not to have seen any large naked men.
Jessamine and I parted ways on the subway and I headed to a babysitting job near the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Their apartment literally overlooks a field of trees and in the spring, Cherry Blossoms. The mom was a really cool single mom who gave me guest passes to venture over to the Botanical Gardens with her son, Quill (Quill? I don't know, either) while I was gone. She warned me he had barely slept the night before and didn't know what was keeping him up. After she left, the little guy (he's 2) pleaded with me, "Outside, outside!" so we schlepped his stroller downstairs and across the street. Literally two seconds after I put him in the stroller he fell fast asleep. It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon and not the best time for a nap, but we were already inside the Botanical Gardens and I didn't want to turn around.
The place was fantastic. For Nashvillians or those who went to my wedding it is a lot like Cheekwood, but maybe a tad bigger. There was a wedding going on though I have to say, Cheekwood has them beat in the event space department. It was super peaceful and beautiful there and you might forget you're in the city while sitting by the fountains and listening to the jazz music that was coming from the Brooklyn Museum, next door. The kid slept the whole time and I felt transported to another place in time.
After babysitting I met up with Sam, Tony, and Teri for a concert in Brooklyn. The concert didn't start 'til midnight so we hung out for a while, then found a good spot for the show. The band is called Apes and Androids and they have a Killers meets Journey meets Queen kind of sound. The show was a lot of confetti being dropped from the ceiling, and lights shining so bright in your face that you have to close your eyes and move your head back and forth--a kind of forced dancing. Other highlights included a glow-in-the-dark segment where they threw glowsticks and inflatable balls with glowsticks into the crowd and everyone was spinning and throwing these glowing things. It was what I pictured a rave to be like, if I had ever been to one.
They also had this tribe of glowing people come out in masks and island wear and spears and carrying a woman attached to a stick up on stage. Then they all did a funky dance in their glowy masks. It was pretty funky.
We ate a late night snack at Anytime Cafe down the street, and a lot of people from the Apes and Androids show were there too, still wearing their glowsticks. They played Queen (an odd coincidence) and everyone sang along loudly to the lyrics while munching on their cheesesticks and tater tots.
My feet are sore and swolen today from all of yesterdays travels, but my mind is racing with thoughts of cherry blossoms, glowing dancers, and new possibilities.
