Monday, April 27, 2009

Our third NY Cares Day

This weekend past, we volunteered as part of my work team for NY Cares Day. Since this was our third time going, it had become part of a tradition both with work and friends, and Doobie and Ilajna joined our work team as well. This year, 5,000 volunteers around the city worked to revitalize 75 parks, schools, playgrounds, gardens and community centers.

It's a HUGE event, and when I thought about it, I was filled with a surge of pride. Partly because I'd hauled butt early on a Saturday morning to do volunteer work. But mostly because it was inspiring and uplifting, to see the city pull together in this manner!

This year, we were assigned to work in the park. I'd been a bit apprehensive about this at first (after all, what did I know about weeding or clearing brush?) but then the weather forecast predicted a beautiful, warm day, and we were all pretty happy to be working outdoors in the sun. When we got there, the team leader pointed us to a huge hill of abandoned land, overgrown for years by tall weeds.

"We need to weed hill, and take out the top layer of soil, so the land can be re-planted. Rakes and shovels in the shed over there," she said cheerily, before skipping assign the next group with the task of clearing rocks.

And so we got to work, like a team of toiling ants. You know how the saying goes - how does one eat an elephant? A bite at a time. That's exactly how it was. Handful by little handful, step after step. Hack the weeds, shovel the roots, rake the debri. Hack the weeds, shovel...

At first, it seemed never ending. Like we weren't even making a dent in the landscape. The hill was just too big for us to do in a day. But slowly, gradually, we started to see the land transforming under the efforts of our toil. Huge garbage bags full of weeds and leaves started to pile up on the side, one at a time.

And by late afternoon (after a much needed lunch break for pizza), as we started to wrap up, without our even realising it, the scene had changed dramatically. As I put away my rake and wiped my grubby hands on my jeans, I couldn't help but look back in awe at what we had accomplished.

Some day - maybe a month from now, maybe a year - this abandoned land would be part of a park. There would be kids playing on swings, and roller bladers and bikers weaving through happily strolling families, and starry eyed couples.

And now, forever, we were a part of this story to come.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Welcome to the twenty first century

I was caught in the throes of a busy day at work when - all of a sudden - my internet connection went down. I started getting error messages pinging up at me on my screen.

Outlook couldn't connect anymore.
There were errors accessing the internet pages I needed.
My chat windows signed out.

Suddenly, it felt like armageddon. There was a moment of paralysed panic when I felt like I'd been cut off from the world forever. And then a honking car jarred me out of my reverie, and I remembered all I had to do was leave the apartment, to get grounded again. All it took was a bit of perspective.

So I rebooted my laptop, which is my answer to any form of technical adversity I'm plagued with. I swear to gawd, even if my microwave stopped working my first thought would be to reboot my laptop. Nothing. Shut down, restart, and still, no internet.

I looked at the wireless router. The only thing I know about the router is that if the light is green, it's working properly. If the light is any other colour, I need to call Metro in panic. So the light was green. But still no internet.

I have to say, my iPhone saved the day. If I didn't have internet on my phone, I don't know what I would do. Such is the interconnectedness of all my machines, and such is my total dependence on them. Anyways, a bit of nifty fat-fingering on the keypad, and I had the TimeWarnerCable customer services number shining up at me.

All I needed really, was for a sympathetic TWC helpdesk person at the other end of the phone to listen to my lamentations. I didn't really think anyone would be able to help. But a sympathetic ear always makes life so much better, doesn't it?

So you can imagine my immense frustration, when I got directed to a machine. What? What could I have done wrong? I had made it clear in every possible option (if this is urgent, press 1) that this was an internet emergency which had driven me to emotional instability. How could they possibly have forwarded me to the TW "Virtual Assistant"?!!

I was about to slam down the phone, when something made me pause. Maybe it was the brusque efficiency of the recorded voice. It was shouting out all sorts of commands in a manner of urgency that could only match my own.

Go check if my modem was plugged into the power socket. ("Yes", I said into the phone, half suspicious the machine wouldnt' understand my accent).

Go check if the modem was plugged into the router. ("Yes", I answered again, not sure if it had understood my previous answer).

How many lights on the modem were steady on. How many lights were blinking? Press the internet reset button on the top right corner. Now how many lights were blinking?

I realised that she (the Virtual Assistant), in giving me a series of actions, had helped me feel like I was dealing with the problem constructively. Even if nothing resulted from this, I was actually doing something about it. Actually trying to help myself, rather than just indulging in self pity. And in the end - I rather suspect through the inevitable fluke of hitting all possible buttons in various combinations and permutations - we got it working again. Me and the VA.

"Great! Sounds like you're online and set to go!" she said in a cheery voice.
Overcome with relief and gratitude, I wanted to reach through the phone and give her a hug. Seriously. To a machine. No kidding. Now this is frickin scarier than iRobot.

Instead, I said "thank you! Thank you! You saved my life!"
But she had already hung up.

If I'd had a real person at other end, maybe they'd at least have stayed on the line long enough to say "you're welcome". Then on the other hand, I'm not convinced they'd have actually solved the internet connection problem.

But I don't have time to think about that too much. I have other things to mull over. Like the fact that I'd wanted to hug a robot.

Baby ahoy

To an explosive flurry of family excitement, my Cos in Seattle announced a few months ago that she was pregnant. Immediately, a network of phonecalls burst forth within the family.

Ttrring, trring, "Congratulations!"
Ttrring, trring, "Guess, what, our Cos in Seattle is preggers!"
"Boy or girl?"
"'No clue, but hell, it's a new baby in the family!"
And so it went.


The weekend past, there was a mini-culmination of the event, with a baby shower for the Cos. All of us shuttled down to Milwaukee, where the Cos is originally from, to have a family reunion together. I'd forgotten how long it had been since I'd been to Milwaukee for a family event. Immediately, I rejoiced in the forgotten familiarity of all of us lounging around together sans agenda.


We walked around the lakefront, so my other cousin's new condo, and everywhere we went, I just gaped and blinked at the sheer enormity of space. I hadn't realised how accustomed I'd become, in New York, to - erm - the cosyness - of being.


And we all got excited over the baby shower.


"I don't like being the centre of all this attention," my Cos whined at one point.
"Get over it," I sagely advised, "if you're going to have a baby, it's just a mantle you must be willing to bear. You're fair game as the subject of all conversations from now on out. Even for people who don't really know you, and still come, Indian style, to pinch your cheeks and tell you how much you've grown from the last time they saw you, some thirty years ago."


She made a face. But such is the price of procreation.


Babies aside, it was just lovely to see the fam again!

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

An awkward thirty seconds.

Waiting for the elevator the other day, my bored gaze fell on my umbrella handle. I looked at the stout, hook-shaped handle, and thought how easy it would be to trip someone in the street, if I wasn't careful.

Caught up in my mental image of the scene, I decided to play it out to see how it could work. Turning my umbrella around, I hooked the handle around my ankle.
See, just the right size to catch someone around the ankle, I thought to myself.

And then, for some reason unbeknownst to even myself, I yanked on the umbrella, and quite literally tripped myself. Yes. Yanked my own ankle up in the air, sending myself sprawling in the corridor.

Oh, the joys of being me.

And of course, at exactly that moment (because aren't these things written in fate?), the elevator arrived and the doors opened. The people inside gaped at me. Six saucer eyes and three saucer mouths.

There was naught to be done but to disentangle my limbs and gather myself into the elevator. And stare really hard at the spot on the floor, right by my feet. And listen to the thunderous silence, bursting with tension, of everyone else desperately trying to think of casual mutterings to mutter.

It had been a while since I'd felt that awkward anyway, I suppose.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Central Park in the Spring




The Perfect Day

After a rather bleary, rainy weekend, the sun arose like a glowing orb on Sunday. It was freezing, of course, as though the city can't quite remember anymore how to find its way to spring. But at least the sun was shining, and if seven overcast years in London have taught me anything, it is to make hay while the sun shines.

The park, abloom with blossoms, was beckoning, so back out came the hats-scarves-gloves-coats and off we trundled, to take advantage of this photo opportunity. Central Park at this time of year is a sight unto itself. In fact, when you think about it, Central Park at any time of year is a sight to behold. But in the spring, when the park is blanketed in a soft layer of snowflake-blossoms, it clean took our breath away (pictures to follow).

It was a few hours before Delta and I could tear ourselves from the scene. By that time, our noses were numb and our fingers were verging on frostbite. We hobbled clumsily homewards, huddled together against the bitter wind.

As we approached the building, I was already dreaming of enveloping myself in the welcome warmth of the apartment. Maybe even a bite to eat and a coffee to warm the cockles. When Ricky, the doorman, stopped us at the door.

"Hey Delta, Ficali, there's been a food delivery for you guys when you were out!"

"Huh? Food delivery?" We hadn't ordered anything. We looked at each other, puzzled.

Ricky handed us a little package, wrapped in tin foil. On it was a quickly scribbled note:

Baked some brownies this morning, thought you guys might like some. Love, Dan & Ilajna.

Brownies! What a delightful surprize. What a perfect end, to a perfect day.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Training: Six months to Machu Picchu

Delta: So how's your Machu Picchu training coming along?

Ficali: Good! Yesterday, when I went to the gym, I actually put effort into my biking. You know, I pushed myself. Usually, I just sit on the bike and turn my legs on the pedals in gentle circles as I watch the news, but this time, I actually felt it.

Delta: Erm. Well, at least it's a step in the right direction.

Ficali: I totally think this means I'll be ready for Machu Picchu in time. I mean, just think - just between last week and this, I went from non-effort exercise, to actual exertion. It's a 100% improvement! The world is my oyster.

Delta: How long were you on the bike for?

Ficali: 20 mins.

Delta: How far did you go on the stair climber?

Ficali: Half a mile. Then I almost fell off in an exhausted, entangled pile of limbs.

Delta. Erm. I think we have some work to do yet. Thank gawd it's still a few months away.

If we could only do away with salutations

"So I got in touch with my cousin the other day," Doobie told me. "I haven't really ever spoken to her in my life before. But the other day, I wrote her an email. And I didn't know how to sign off!"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, do I sign off Regards? Take Care? Love? Nothing sounds quite right for someone who's pretty much a stranger, and still your cousin. I hate having to make such decisions."
"What did you choose in the end?" I asked, curious. I'd never been in that position before myself, and I'm not sure what I would have chosen.
"I played it safe and went with love. At least that way I can't offend her. But now I think I might have over-stated the emotion a bit. It's awkward."

I was just mulling such decisions over in my head, when Delta asked me the same question the other day.
"Ficali, one of my friends wrote me this email, but she signed off really formal. How do I respond! Do I write Regards?"
Crikey, I had no clue. Isn't regards reserved for work emails?
"Why don't you hedge your risk and avoid salution, just sign off Delta?" I suggested.
"I hate making such decisions. It's just so awkward."

Clearly, we mastered the art of writing emails, but never how to end them. No wonder they invented Twitter and Facebook. Life made easier - there isnt' enough character space to waste on niceties.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Reasons to Party

For our vacation this October, Delta and I had been toying with a few different ideas on places we could visit, and then finally settled upon one last month. We decided to hike Machu Picchu.

It might as well be that we came to this decision with a few months to spare, since as it turns out, the five day hike will require quite a lot of preparation. I read a few blogs on the subject, and realised that "being reasonably fit" (and even that is a hard stretch to describe me) just isn't enough to cut it.

In fact, the more blogs I read, the more I realise that nothing prepares you for the sheer breathlessness of hiking at that altitude. Well, nothing I encounter in my daily life anyway. And it certainly didn't help when I almost had a heart attack biking around Central Park last week.

All the same, it's certainly exciting, and there were some important decisions to be made. How much would it cost? Which hiking trail should we take? How many days would we need off? Would our friends want to join so we could go as a group?

So we threw a Machu Picchu Planning Party this weekend, so the entire gang could look into this together.

"I'm definitely in!!" said Doobie, "I mean, depending on how my asthma is doing at the time," and she gave a little cough for dramatic effect.
"Count me in," said Vish, " I mean, if I sort out my visa situation in time."
"I love the idea! I'm in!" said Ilajna, "I mean, I just need to make sure my knee is up for it though."
"Sounds kewl," said Danny, "I'll see whether I can get the time off from work."
Kate on the other hand, was upfront: "There's no toilets? Ew." And that was that.

Delta and I laughed. "Guys, listen to us!! We're pathetic! If this is how we're talking now, can you imagine what we'll be like when we're old?!!"

And then I went into my spiel about how difficult the hike would be, and silence everyone, six pairs of eyes stared at me like terrified saucers.

I don't know what will come of it, or whether the peops will be able to join us at all. But still, it's a lofty goal, and it sounds like it's worth every minute of the attempt.

"Let's have another party in May," Delta suggested. "This time, it'll be the Machu Picchu Decision Party." By early May, we need to all commit.

Hell - if you're going to plan Machu Picchu seriously, might as well have all these parties along the way, eh.