Oof, it has been a busy day.
My second day of work was very good, and I'm starting to get into the swing of things. If I haven't mentioned it before, I'm working with another intern, and we pal around a bit. We got lunch together yesterday and today; both days we have looked for the mysterious food truck, the Dumpling Rickshaw. It is a most elusive food truck, with supposedly magical properties in the taste of their dumplings. No luck yet.
The other big interesting thing was that New York's Summer Stage series kicked off this evening with a concert in the Park by Yo Yo Ma. This was something I had been looking forward to for several weeks, ever since finding out that I was going to be in New York City for the summer. The concert started ridiculously early (6:30 p.m.), which meant that, if I were to get out of work on time (which I have yet to do), that I had half an hour before the concert started. I am perpetually late, and I don't know my way around public transportation yet; it is a bad combination to have when time is of the essence. And when I'm pressed for time, I don't make necessary preparations, like finding out which subway stop I want. There will be a map around, right? Or some pamphlets I can take and peruse on my journey?
No. The station where I got on my train had neither map nor pamphlets; however, the next stop did, and I saw a guy standing in front of a nice map in a glass case in the middle of the platform. Oh, his bearings were being gotten, while my bearings were still all befuddled-like. I noticed this as the train pulled away from the stop.
I'll skip over the embarrassing details of getting on an express train and missing my stop, taking a local train back, and then mistakenly getting off one stop too early. I did, however, make a subway buddy who was also going to the concert, which is something one normally does not do, I feel.
Subway buddy and I had a brisk jaunt through Central Park, and when we got to the Summer Stage at about 7 p.m., the amphitheater was closed because they had reached capacity. We were turned away and stood behind the amphitheater, catching some of the sound waves.
What I heard painted pictures on the inside of my head. Mr. Ma was playing with the Silk Road Ensemble, and it was like being transported to the Yellow River, with the Chinese watercolor paintings at the beginning of Mulan in the background. I would wax more eloquent right now if I had the time and mental energy.
Overall, my experience of the concert was patchwork; I arrived late, could see nothing of the ensemble, wandered away from the concert and back again in fruitless attempts to get closer to the music, and ended up leaving a few minutes early. In contemplating my experience, I would not have it any other way. I got to hear it, at least, which is enough. The concert showcased a lot of children from various schools around the city, weaving narratives and songs together which were well-suited to an audience with children (though I could have done without the song to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star") - I probably would not have wanted to stay for the entire thing anyway. I could only catch some of it, but you could tell when Mr. Ma was playing - he made you sit up and listen to his music, compelled you to follow him as he took your consciousness through the notes and made musical connections appear in your very visual cortex.
By this time, subway buddy had a large incentive to see Mr. Ma in person, and so left me to try and finagle her way in. I was happy to sit outside the amphitheater, just listening. Sitting and listening was enough for me; it was like sitting outside heaven's door (yes, as described by the song by Lifehouse, may I live in eternal infamy) just to be in the presence of a master musician of a master instrument.
Again, all in all, another good day in New York City. Except this humidity might kill me.
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