Familiar Places

Arriving in New York is always a struggle for me...I stepped off of the plane at 7am yesterday morning to a chilly sunrise. As we waited for our bags plane-side, the pilot says, "Oh, this isn't so bad...yesterday I was in Minneapolis, and it was minus 10 degrees, no wind chill!" I can only smile politely, wishing, from the moment my feet touched the pavement, that I was back in my cozy condo in North Carolina. Too lazy to wait for the M60 bus that early in the morning, I catch a yellow cab to Mackenzie's place. "158th and Riverside," I say. The cabby repeats the location back to me, and we are off. Looking out the window, I see beauty in the city sunrise. Pinkish purple light hitting the high rise buildings in the distance. I fall in love with New York all over again for a moment... then I notice the cab driver passing the 155th street exit on the highway. "Where are you going? I said 158th and Riverside." The cab driver says, "181 and Fort Washington?" When we finally get to where I had originally asked to be let off, I barter with the cab driver to lower the fare. He is unforgiving. Too early for confrontation, I give in and pay him thirty-five dollars. I am frustrated, but happy to be at my home away from home, Mackenzie's apartment.

This morning, bright and early, Mackenzie and I walked out onto the sidewalk to get on the train from Washington Heights to Brooklyn to rehearse the excerpt from Words Apart, which we perform on Thursday and Sunday at the Cool NY Dance Festival. We rehearse at a studio where we did our very first audition upon arriving in NYC after graduating college, that year in 2005. I ended up getting the gig, and I rehearsed there for many hours that Fall. I remembered how the finish on the old wooden floor would flake, and leave bits on your clothes, and how the floor at the entrance to the restroom is raised two inches, so as not to stub my toe on the way in, and how the entire place was full of dry heat from the metal heaters all along the walls. We are efficient in our efforts today: run the partnering section, run the solo section, put them together, clean and repeat. Done, and done. I love when things go according to plan! We even have time for a bit of "unadulterated groove time," as I like to call it. Just playing the jams, and groovin' the way we want to...

The next part of our plan is to get back on the train to Manhattan in time for Mackenzie to catch a nap before work. MTA does not have the same plan in mind. On the L train, we are packed like sardines, as people are rushing to get to work and it is hard to navigate through the sea of hot, winter-coat-laden bodies without stepping on someone's toe or elbowing them in the ribs. The train doors won't close. "Stand clear of the closing doors!" The conductor yells down the platform. Once we transfer to the 1 train, it stops suddenly at 59th street. "We are having some mechanical difficulties with this train...the next and last stop on this train will be 66th street!" The conductor announces. We get out and wait for the next train. Almost home, until again, the conductor's voice booms, "The next stop on this train after 137th street will be 168th street!" We need to get off at 157th. At 168th, we get off and change platforms, waiting for a downtown 1 train. Finally, we are home. Mackenzie plops into bed for a short nap. We get to do that again, and more, tomorrow.

~Cara