Gabe invited me to go with his friend Raffy and he to a screening of “Working Girl” in the park last night (part of the Central Park Film Festival). Gabe and I met beforehand below the park to grab sandwiches and drinks, and started walking into the park towards the screening to meet Raffy. When we caught up with him just outside the film area, he had his small dog with him and told us that the people at the gate wouldn’t let him in, even though no where on the site does it mention that dogs are not allowed and this was an outdoor event in the park after all. The problem was that Raffy lives up in Harlem and didn’t have time to take the dog back before the film started. At Gabe’s behest we started walking the perimeter looking for a place to sneak in. Gabe was somehow able to sneak in past the guards and call me on my cell phone to tell me where, but alas we were stopped by security before being able to make it in. Raffy put his dog into the bag he had with him and we approached the main entrance. When the security guy felt Raffy’s bag he told him that pets were not allowed and we just continued to walk in, towards Gabe who was already inside. We then found an inconspicuous place to sit and started to unwrap our picnic. Everything seemed fine for a few minutes until a very large (wide, more than tall) security guy came over to tell us we couldn’t have the dog there, then noticed our beer and told us that was not allowed either, and that we would have to leave. He followed us all the way to the exit where we passed the first security guard wagging his finger at us. So we sat outside on a lonely bench and enjoyed our picnic while the distant voice of Melanie Griffith pretended to gravitas.

There is a cafe that I have been working at most mornings, and I really enjoy the atmosphere in this place. I have even struck up a little acquaintance with my cute and friendly waiter, sharing small talk about our lives. I learned that he just arrived in NYC a few weeks ago from Arizona of all places. He is just a sweet kid of about 22, struggling to make it in the big city.

This morning I logged into my bank account online (as I do occasionally) and noticed an odd charge from the cafe. It was dated yesterday, the last time I used my card there. It wasn’t a huge difference, but I didn’t remember spending that much there, so I found my folded up receipt from yesterday’s pants pocket and sure enough, my card had been charged more than the total I had filled out including tip. As I said, it wasn’t a huge amount, only 2 dollars more (from 19 to 21, which would have increased my 20% tip to 33%, but I digress).

At first, I thought perhaps there was an old charge that had been dated wrong and had coincidentally come through on this day. But when I checked through my records, every other charge was there and was in the correct amount. So I am left with the following possibilities as to how this happened:

- My waiter added a couple of bucks and put the charge through (purposely or by accident)
- Someone else at the restaurant added a couple of bucks and put the charge through (purposely or by accident)
- There was a bank or credit card error in the amount of two dollars

And now there is a dilemma about what to do about it:

- Take my receipt down to the restaurant and demand to talk to the manager to get them to reverse the charge
- Talk to the waiter directly about it, giving him a chance to investigate
- Pretend it never happened (it is only two dollars after all)

If I go down to talk to the manager, what will happen to my waiter if he is to blame? Will he be fired? The poor kid just arrived in New York and is struggling. I don’t want him to be fired over this if by chance he is at fault, and yet if he is, he clearly should not be engaging in this type of behavior. If he is not to blame and someone else is, what happens to them? Perhaps it would be better to confront the waiter directly, giving him the opportunity to explain or investigate without management knowing?

Maybe it is all just a misunderstanding, an accident easily rectified.

I am a practical person. I don’t believe in making a big deal out of things that are trifling. I am not one of those people who is so wedded to “the principle of the thing” that I lose sight of reality. Life is too short really. And yet, I feel a little as if a trust has been betrayed. I have really enjoyed spending time in this cafe, chatting with my waiter, sipping coffee and working. My image of this place is now a little tainted. I would like to be proven wrong, but can only do so by bringing it up.

On the other hand, I could just let it drop, continue to enjoy the environment and pay cash from now on. I think I like the sound of that best. What do you think? (besides the obvious “Haven’t you just wasted more than 2 dollars worth of time and energy thinking about this?”)

Maybe I am warped from recent living in Mexico City and India, or I’m not riding the lines with the most traffic, but I have yet to see overcrowded subway cars here in NYC. Even at supposed rush hour (around 8:30-9am), the cars are refreshingly roomy. Is the MTA just really good about having a lot of cars in service? Am I just lucky? I almost always have a seat. Here is a shot I took this morning at about that time. Just look at all that space!

Seeing the Bollywood film yesterday transported me back to my travels in India.  I remembered that coincidentally, there was an important (the first, I believe) gay pride march set for yesterday in Mumbai and I was curious to see how it went. When I got home I looked up the news accounts on the internet and did find mention of it, but I was a little surprised by the theme picked up by the majority of articles I was reading. Most of them talk about how these were demonstrations against the legacy of the British and their penal code (section 377) that outlawed homosexuality and is still in force to this day, and how they were basically calling on Britain to apologize for introducing this penal code. I have to admit to having been a bit bemused by this and so I sent an email to some of my friends in Mumbai to ask a few questions. Was this a tactic to get a greater majority of the Indian public to approve repeal of 377? Hating all things that represent British colonial rule, it would be an easier sell I suppose than simply accepting the right of people to be gay…?

My friend Alok responded by saying it is a strategy both to get greater media attention, and “to highlight that criminalization of same sex activity has no roots in Indian culture/history”.

I am sure that is true, but there are also many examples of politicians in India (and in many parts of the non western world) who blame the very existence of homosexuality itself on “western influence”, claiming it to be foreign to their culture. In both cases (saying homophobia or homosexuality is a foreign thing), there seems to be an attempt to deny any responsibility for the current climate according to one’s beliefs and tastes. I am sure it is more palatable to place the blame squarely outside of ourselves for those tendencies in our cultures of which we don’t approve, and that this is a world wide phenomenon. I asked my friend if he could then perhaps explain to me how India after independence managed to create a constitution and dismantle some of the legal system left by the British, yet still left in place (when it had the opportunity to do away with it) 377? Was it mere convenience?

My point is simply that it is too facile to lay Indian intolerance solely at British feet, no matter how tempting, and even though most definitely part of the reason. That is why I asked if it was a strategy, to make Indians feel that rejecting homophobia is rejecting something intrinsically British, and that this was an easier “sell”, and more patriotic. (Which is hogwash anyway. I don’t believe any nation to be “intrinsically” homophobic. Cultures change and grow into and out of their hatreds all the time. And I’m sure anyone would agree that Britain today is a far more hospitable place to be gay than India.)

The more I travel, the more places and cultures I see, the more of a universal humanist I become. There is a wonderous diversity of life and culture on this planet. And there are many awful systems of oppression in place that must be challenged. But the longer I live, the more I see the folly in assigning blame without action, and without looking in the mirror. There are unfortunately (and on occasion wonderfully) many many examples across cultures of the things that humans do to (and for the benefit of) other humans, and it is obvious that these are human tendencies that are located in our biological makeup. No culture has a monopoly on the truth or beauty, and cultures change enormously over time. One constant that I recognize with great sadness is the very widespread human desire to fear and hate and demonize that which is different or other. For me, humans are at our very best when we work to transcend these hatreds in our individual selves, our families, our social groups, our regions, our nations, and finally our world.

Went on a little outing with my friend Jai and his partner Madison (both of whom I met in India last year). We went to see a Bollywood film called “Bachna Ae Haseeno” at the ever so cleverly(?) named “Imaginasian” movie theater in midtown. Overall, I say it was about an average quality film, but it made me smile more than a little to reconnect with the genre. I really felt back in India, and it is interesting to see how Indian mores move ever so slightly. This film portrayed a couple that live together for several years…without being married! And more than one open mouth kiss! And that’s not all, in the previews we got a sneak look at well known (and gay but closeted) Indian director Karan Johar’s next film, which seems to have the most out in the open presentation of gay themes ever in an Indian film.

This is odd. Upon checking the visa requirements for my upcoming trip to South America, I realized that I would need a visa for Bolivia and another for Brazil. These requirements are basically to punish the US for the cost and hassle that citizens of these countries must undergo to come here, and I think they are right to do so until the US changes its visa requirements. Anyway, I dutifully got my passport photos and filled out the forms I had downloaded from each respective embassy’s website. I made my way to the Bolivian consulate yesterday, where they told me that they had “run out of” visas for the foreseeable future, and that I could just get mine when entering the country from Peru. And when I called the Brazilian consulate today to ask about the exact visa fee, I was told that once obtained, the visa must be used for the first time within 90 days of issuance or it would expire. That means it would be worthless to me, and so I will need to get my Brazilian visa when I am in Argentina. Aren’t you glad I am here to share these valuable travel tips with you all (both of you)?

Wow, this is damning and powerful. I hope the Obama campaign uses it.

The last couple of days have been spent working furiously (well, somewhat) on my book, and rediscovering how much I love this city (and my friends within it).  I also suddenly and to my surprise have three small tech contracts to fulfill. Not bad, perhaps I will be able to survive in greater style while in South America, or even have a little bit left over to get me started when I decide to settle somewhere.

And in case anyone should ask, it is no contest. Morandi is a far more comfortable place to work than Doma, which I find to be highly overrated, cramped, and attitudy.

I don’t wish to evoke as great a controversy over a food preference as the last time (ok, I do), but when I get my coffee in a restaurant, I prefer the milk (or better yet cream) that accompanies it to be cold. There is (to me) an annoying habit in “finer” restaurants to steam or otherwise heat the milk. Then I have to wait even longer for my boiling hot coffee to cool before taking a sip, not to mention this normally adds a foam I would rather save for cappuccino. Any thoughts?

Every so often a book or movie will generate strong feelings of loathing that seem to reveal much more about the critic than the work. “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elisabeth Gilbert seems to be just such a book. Over the past few weeks (and months) I have met several people for whom this book seemed some sort of personal affront. I read the book, enjoyed the writing style and the subject matter, and would recommend it whole-heartedly. It didn’t change my life, but I definitely appreciated it. But a number of people I have met recently who don’t like the book REALLY don’t like it. They take some very personal umbrage. Whether they believe it to be “self absorbed and narcissistic” or “fake” or “new agey”, it seems to touch a very deep anger for reasons that elude me. Just the other night was the most recent example. I was talking to some guy at a bar. We were making small talk and he asked me what I do (the classic American question). I started talking about my trip of the last months and as I was describing India he interrupted me with an abrupt “Have you read Eat, Pray, Love? I f*cking HATE that book!”.  I do think that the book was an easier read for me personally because of the nature of my own journey over the past couple of years. And I understand that not everyone will “get” the parts that are most foreign to their own personal experience, such as the description of time in an ashram in India. But there is something more, a kind of anger that the world (through its bestseller status) should reward this kind of thing. People I have spoken with feel that Elizabeth Gilbert is somehow “pulling one over” on the world with her memoir. They desperately search for any sentence or situation in the book that they feel is less than perfectly authentic or real and shout “aha!”. My feeling is “who the hell cares?” What, exactly, do they think this woman is duping the world with? Why does it bug them so very much? What does it say about their own hopes and fears and insecurities? Is it “unfair” that she got to take this trip? Is it “self-absorbed” any more than any memoir? I don’t know, but it is curious.

When out for dinner and drinks with Johnny, Kevin and Jim last night. Johnny and Jim I met in San Francisco many, many years ago, and Kevin (Johnny’s partner) I met here through Johnny just about 7 years ago. Johnny is one of those people I have a soft spot for, and I always look forward to seeing him when I come to NYC. We started out the night at a really decent French restaurant called Lucien, and then made an informal tour of  gay bars in the EV (East Village. Suddenly everyone abbreviates every neighborhood in the city instead of actually naming them. I attribute this to the influence of brevity in IM conversations on the net. See? I did it again.)  I was surprised to note how quickly everyone was downing drink (after drink) compared to me. Had I suddenly turned into a lightweight, or is the frenetic pace of life in the big city turning my friends into binge drinkers? Or is it something else, a blip not to be generalized into a trend?

It is great to be back in a city that knows good food of all kinds. The other night Sian and I had dinner at the fantastic restaurant Public, yesterday morning Jai and I had breakfast at a wonderful place in the village called Morandi, and just last night I had one of those oh so simple but oh so satisfying slices of NY pepperoni pizza. And let’s not even mention the chocolate chip cookies at City Bakery.

That is how long it took me door to door. It was a bit of an experiment, flying into White Plains. It was the cheapest way to get here from Indianapolis though. So let’s see Indianapolis to Atlanta for a 2.5 hour layover, Atlanta to White Plains, about an hour wait for the bus from the airport to the railway station (they only run once an hour and I just missed the previous one), express train to Grand Central, S and then A train to Penn Station, and a three (long) block walk here. Total cost: about 139 dollars and a splitting headache.

Me at the White Plains airport, waiting on the once hourly bus to the train to the city to the subway to the apartment on 34th.

At least I can blog from my phone. :)

I’m leaving today…well tomorrow actually. I will be in NYC for the next month or so, and am I ever psyched! My uber wonderful cousin Josh is outta town and gave me his apartment for a few weeks. My goals while there are to finish the book (and proposal) I am working on, do meditation and yoga more frequently, take a look at the NYC job market, and have a *#%$^@ good time.

Then in September, it is off to Peru. But that is a story for another time…