… its hot outside. This kind of heat that just shuts down your brain, makes you sweat even though you are just blinking with your eyes, makes you drink water every five seconds. Even the usual heat and stuffy air in the subway stations now feels smoothing compared to the air outside. Apparently, for Americans, this weather is the normal weather condition in summer and thus no reason to complain or be surprised. However, for me it is something completely new. All of my summers I have spend at home, at the sea. If we ever had 36°C in Northern Germany, it would be all over the news anyways but even that high temperature wouldn’t feel as overwhelming as it does here. Here, we don’t have a fresh breeze coming from the Ocean. Which probably makes it more likely that, at some point, I will just settle at the sea, its just too much a part of me. Oh my, first world problems, I know. But does that make them less real?
No, I really don’t want to complain. Being the optimist that I am, I wanna point out the upside of this whole hot-weather-situation: Excuse to go summer dress shopping! I love going shopping here. That’s because of the American way of interacting. The first time, I was a little overwhelmed and the conversation between me and the girl in the dressing rooms went a little like that:
Employee: “Hi, how are you?”
me: “Oh, thanks for asking! I’m good, a little dizzy from the heat and my feet hurt, these shoes are new. But the clothes here cheer me up, soooo… How are you?”
Employee: “Erm, good. Whats your name?”
me: “Ariane, but you can call me Ari if thats easier. I’m from Germany hence the name.”
Employee: “Nice to meet you Ari, I’m Tiffany. Now, call me whenever you need me, sweetheart. There is a button inside the cabin. If you want me to bring you a different size or just something completely different or whatever, just push the button. Good luck with the clothes!”, smiled and walked away. Isn’t that great? Despite my obvious lack of knowledge about conversational American, she stayed super friendly and in her role. In Germany (especially in North-Eastern Germany) the customer is supposed to be king but in reality, we often are subject to neglection and rudeness. Especially if you are not grown up yet….anyway.
Yesterday was solstice, which New York celebrated with a Yoga-Session on Times Square. Hundreds of people all doing the same yoga movements and just as many people to watch them. I was thinking about participating but doing weird yoga movements in the heat was just not that attractive of an idea at that point. We took pictures though:
I will now go and explore Harlem on my way to picking up a package. When the door rang yesterday, I just didn’t open. Having had a history in terms of watching too many thrillers and horror movies and being alone in the Harlem apartment all day are just an unlucky combination. When the doorbell rang then, all kinds of images came into my mind of me opening and not seeing the postman but a guy with a knife in his hand pushing me back into the apartment and killing me. Stuff like that. I know, my imagination is just more lively than is good for me. I ignored the doorbell. The package was dropped of at the local post office. Jess can’t pick it up because she works. Hence, its my responsibility to walk deep into the area, the part where our host warned us in the beginning “just not to go there, its not unsafe…but for you it kinda is”. Well, the things you do for a package which, hopefully, contains chocolate chip cookies from Jess’ mom.
Yes, I know. I am playing with stereotypes here. Harlem is not as bad as I make it sound. Our apt is in the safer part of the neighborhood and you can tell that a couple of years ago it must have been way worse than it looks now. However, its hard for me to judge situations I have never been in. Hence, I rather stay on the safe side of life with this. Wish me luck with the package!