Stand Behind The Yellow Line

When you don't know which yellow line to stand behind, I guess the smartest thing to do is stand BETWEEN two yellow lines.

In the Cold and On the Subway

It got soooooo cold I decided to cover my ears with this beanie hat I bought in Scotland some years back. The windchill can make you so unaware of your ears that if they dropped off, you wouldn't know. It's ironic to put on a Scottish beanie when I am in NY, but I just didn't like the idea of purchasing any of those "I love NY" merchandise which tourists are so fond of -- from T-shirts to mugs, and from pencils to plastic bags.

At 9:00pm at the Grand Army Plaza station in Brooklyn, the station was devoid of life - a very rare sign in New York. Even past midnight, most trains are crowded. Everything suddenly looked so spick and span I could not believe I was in New York.



This is the Number 3 train, with a wonderfully clean and bright interior. It is a new train, with an automated voice-over announcing the name of the next station. Most of the time, the conductor mumbles loudly over the P.A. system, and you really wonder what they are saying.





Even my nephew, Nigel, feels my shivers back in Singapore and wears something to keep his head warm. Hehe...


Now, this is a typical scene of New Yorkers rushing around on the platform. 59th Street Columbus Circle is where I usually change trains.

Drama Therapy Workshop (Oct 14, 2006)

I was extremely fortunate to hear of this Drama Therapy workshop conducted by Dr Robert Landy (Founder and Director of NYU's Drama Therapy Program) and Ms Emily Nash (Artistic Director and Director of Training and Supervision at Creative Alternatives of New York), thanks to my classmate Kathy Brennan, a 2nd year Drama Therapy student in the Master's track. I was not particularly sure what the workshop entailed, but because it was my first opportunity to do the thing I really loved and enjoyed while working with inmates in Singapore, I just had to go for it.

Entitled "THE FUNCTION OF THE GUIDE IN THERAPEUTIC DRAMATIZATION", the workshop participants talk about their guides as if they had known them all their lives. It is a tad strange to hear this during the introductory sharing. For example, one participant comments she knows her guide really well, but sometimes she just wants to chuck her aside and be alone. Another participant wants to know how to get rid of the false guides in her life. I find that I am already thrown into a therapy session with a string of vocabulary which I am not familar with. And it is funny (to me, at least) to see how the supposedly imaginary voices we often hear when we rationalise about issues -- like the polar Good vs Evil images that appear in cartoons -- become so real and so human when the participants referred to these voices as "he" or "she".

Robert then gives the analogy that we, as parents, sometimes do not know what to do as parents. We gain our experience by doing, and learning from our own parents who learned from our grandparents. So how do we become guides for our children if our guides have been imperfect guides? Now, that makes logical sense. As therapists, we are often guides for our students/clients, but how can we be guides unless we know how to be guided? And it is that step to find out who our guides are, and how to listen to them.

Part 1: Improvised Dance and Conflict Resolution

We then went into an improvised piece, with 2 participants moving in polarity and the third, a guide, trying to find out what their needs are, and aiming to resolve that conflict. I went into the circle and started hammering the floor. Another participant joined me, and I saw her feet -- and started hammering her in aggression. It was a rather violent image we were creating, full of tension and anger. The guide came into the circle and instinctively soothed me. When my energy dissipated slowly, I began finger-playing with her. Slowly, the other girl joined in and we started playing with our fingers in a dance. Still focused on the minute details like the fingers, I suddenly heard Emily say, "It's ok. You can look into each other's eyes." It was then that I began to look at the 'victim's' eyes and saw something I never saw -- and a smile flashed across my face. It was a genuine sense of connection and we improvised a little longer and then, separated.

Issues that arose from this improvised movement include:
1. As guides, we sometimes don't know what to do. Or at least that's what we think. But when you are in it, trust your instincts.
2. As guides, we sometimes need to step out and observe first before entering the space.
3. As guides, what are their needs? What are your needs? What can they give to you? It's a 3-way relationship.

I remember sharing that a simple form of encouragement like "It's okay to look at her eyes" almost gives me permission to do something else... and that, in itself, had a soothing effect. It was simple yet powerful. As a guide, we may offer suggestions like this.

There was a lot more to the workshop which I have learned. And I have the urge to stop detailing my life lest I bore you. But now I don't really care if you cared enough to read. But as a form of testimonial of my own growth, I will continue to pen down this wonderful journey I undertook, so that years from now, I would remember this as one prominent landmark in my quest for the Guide.

Part 2: Guided Imagery & Blind Walk

We then went through a guided imagery, where I saw in the sea a snake swimming quietly towards the beach. It moved on the sand, creating curvy patterns that were unique. I wasn't sure where it was heading, but it glided gingerly from side to side. He was the "journeyor". Along came the "guide" in the form of a bird looking down. It was a pigeon. A white one. A delicate one.

Then we partnered each other and went on a blind walk. I remembered touching different parts of the room, and identifying the door knob, the table, the piano, the wall. But there was one thing I couldn't identify. I had to stretch upwards to reach it and it felt very different. It had a velvety feel, like an overhead shelf but it had a cylindrical bar from top to bottom. I was intrigued, but before I knew it, I was moved into a different part of the room.

Later, we came together and shared as a pair. I realised that I was thrilled with the unknown object and wanted to stay with it for a longer period of time. But because I was led away, I did not resist but followed through. It was comfortable and safe when I touched other objects on "ground" level or waist level, but I really wanted more of the "above my head" level objects.


Part 3: Monologue and Role Play

Having had a whirlpool of different experiences, we wrote a monologue from the perspective of the Guide. We then read it out, and there were some participants with rather strong emotions, and stuck feelings, that Robert and Emily stepped in with a dramatisation of it. Some other participants reaffirmed each other's readings and it offered great comfort for every individual.

I witnessed for once the power of the role play. It appeared very much like the Empty Chair in Gestalt Therapy, but we use two actors in this case, sometimes inter-switching roles at appropriate and meaningful moments when the Guide needed to give advice, or when the Journeyor needed to hear advice.

According to John, my monologue was full of compassion and gentleness. And the words that my Guide left with the class are "Before you can REACH UP, Edmund needs to REACH OUT. Before he can REACH OUT, he needs to REACH IN."

Afternote:
When I was walking home from the subway, I felt energised. I felt extremely "alive", having made connections on a human level, but more so, having made connections with myself. Believe it or not, I didn't feel that lonely on the way back because I started "conversing" with my Guide... and seeing how my life has been thus far. The images were strong. It suddenly dawned on me to see my life's vision and journey as characterised by the images of the bird and the snake -- solitary figures, almost always in conflict, but very grounded (or at least try to be) and an ambitious reach towards the sky.

The feeling cannot be described in words, but I just felt a surge of life, a pulse, an energy. I was renewed, refreshed, and recharged.

Bobst Library and Steinhardt School

Seemingly propped up by construction bars, the ugly brown facade of the Bobst Library is not exactly an attractive building. But it is really my personal landmark. That is the most prominent building which I use to orient myself around campus, especially the first 3 weeks of school.


This is another angle of the interior of the Bobst Library. It is a gigantic library with 12 storeys (I think). The study areas are overlooking the Washington Square Park while the open stacks (shelves) are on both wings.

Ah, to the right is the Steinhardt School of Education building which I mentioned in Part 1 of the blog. This is where my Educational Theatre office is situated.

Visually less pleasing than the Stern School of Business, the programmes offered within Steinhardt are incredibly diverse.

This is also the Pless Hall Building in which I acted in the "Lil' Bud" play in the 24-hour Theatrix Festival.

Campus Photos Part 1

These photos were taken surreptitiously on a Sunday when New York University was not thronged by students. I didn't want to appear "gee-na" (read: easily excitable because of an ignorant or sheltered background) snapping photos on a regular day. But no, I didn't go to school on a Sunday just to show you my photos.

You wish! :-)

I was there to print my notes -- one of those free printing services.
But alas, it is closed on Sundays.



Guess what? Instead of finding a quiet campus, the Stern School of Business was having some orientation programmes for prospective students. By the way, Stern boasts of the nicest and the newest architecture (at least to me) with a large open space.




Purple and white are the thematic colours of NYU. The balloons tell it all.
Thank God I sneaked up to have a snack or two with cheese and some delicious brownies! That was my breakfast!

Quietly, I left Stern and walked towards the Steinhardt School of Education -- whose building paled in comparison with the Business School.



While waiting for a storytelling performance by Diane Wolkstein to begin, I went to the Bobst Library -- my favourite place. Taken from the fourth floor (I think), the library floor is an intentional maze of white and black patterns. The reason given -- to disorient anyone from jumping down and committing suicide. It does make sense -- the patterns are quite disconcerting from this angle.

'Weathering' Heights

The rain came in torrential pours for the last two days.

I was, for the first time, wearing 3 layers of clothes - my usual T-shirt, a dark navy blue NYU sweater with a hood (which cost me US$57. I know... I was a sucker for the 'NYU' branding), and my usual black windbreaker which had served me well thus far. The rain soaked through my first layer, and thankfully, the sweater gave me some warmth and dryness.

Yesterday was unexpectedly warm with lots of sunshine. I hated the fact that I brought both the sweater and windbreaker along, and all I needed was just the windbreaker. In fact, there was no windchill and I could easily go around in just my T-shirt and jeans. My rucksack was heavy -- and I regretted carrying so much with me to school. I was lugging my Dell laptop in my bag as well.

Today, I woke up at 7:10 am with a very dry throat. A sore throat must be developing, I thought. I tried hard to think of what I had eaten the night before -- the usual Chinese beef and broccoli with rice. My new takeaway dinner for US$4.50 -- after I received emails from family and friends telling me to stop eating so much Philly steak sandwiches.

So, it must be the beef and broccoli's fault. Or I must have forgotten to drink enough water.

I hate this feeling. I don't want to get sick in New York. I have been exercising and trying hard to keep fit... So no way am I going to let the common flu/sore throat stop me.

As I walked along the corridor to take my morning shower (am I crazy?), the wind blew hard. I knew it would be a cold day today. Then I realised it must have been the cold draught of wind during the night that could have dried my throat, causing irritation with dry cough and soreness.

Argh!

I checked the weather forecast after my shower. It was 5 degrees Celsius! The temperature had dipped tremendously. But according to the forecast, the highest would be 16 degrees. And it would be a sunny day.

Bingo! I would just wear 2 layers.

Once I stepped outside the I.House, I realised my choice of clothes was perhaps inappropriate. But it was too late to change into something warmer. Pulling the zipper up all the way to the neck area -- I realised it's important to keep the neck/throat area warm -- and pushing my fingers into my jacket, I waddled to the Subway station. Like a penguin.

It was very chilly. Even a few NYU students in the elevator commented on the cold.

Now, I should act on common sense, and start wearing 3 layers before I freeze in the cold... or fall sick trying to act macho.

Theatrix 24-hour Festival

I participated in the Theatrix "Instant Gratification" Play Festival in a 10-minute performance called "Lil'Bud".

On Friday at 8pm (15 Sep 2006), a group of Educational Theatre grads came together to be involved in this 24-hour play. Randomly selected to work in teams, 1 became the playwright, 1 the director, and 2 to 3 the actors. The playwright had to write her play based on the two objects that she has picked up from the pool of resources we had brought. And so, Becky, our playwright picked a pink flamingo and a postcard, and off she went to write her play. For the entire night.

We came back at 8am the following morning, and read the scripts for the very first time, not knowing what to wear, what play it was, and what roles we were playing. Rehearsals started, and under Nicole's direction, we managed to flesh out the play in its entirety. At 7.30pm that same day, the Black Box Theatre doors would open and at 8pm, our show, together with many other 10-min productions, were set to rock the stage to the public. It was really less than 24 hours, to be precise.

The play, "Lil'Bud", revolves around a mentally disturbed woman called Alex. Her husband, Ron, returns home and talks with her. As usual, he is greeted with silence. Trying to cheer her up, he brings out a pink flamingo stuffed toy, which he later transforms into a baby. She believes Ron, and cradles Lil Bud in her arms - her very first sign of interest in life. She is later seen playing and cooing the baby.

Alex's sister, Amy, gets to know of this bizarre situation and visits Alex. A heated argument ensues as Lil Bud flies through the air and hits the ground. Both sisters are fighting. As Ron returns home, he immediately separates the two and locks Amy out of the apartment. The final touching scene was that of a loving husband, his wife and little baby rocking to and fro in a tight cuddled-up position.

It has been a very fun and challenging experience indeed - my first "acting" stint in New York, even if it was a student production.

Avenue Q

I remember spending the first few 3 weeks in New York just commuting from I.House to NYU for classes, and back each night, mechanically and somewhat disillusioned with what the Big Apple has to offer. I was already getting bogged down by the increasing sense of loneliness (since I don't have friends here) and school work.

It was on 7 September 2006 that I decided to spend US$41.75 on Avenue Q, a Broadway musical showing at the John Golden Theatre along West 45th Street. But before that, there was a talk-back session with the cast of Avenue Q. I'd heard good reviews but I didn't know what to expect.

So during the informal session with NYU students, the cast talked about the show. Rick Lyon was the most impressive puppeteer as he created all the puppets for the show, and his experience shone as he dominated most of the conversations. Ann Sanders, Mary Faber and Evan Harrington were also present.

As they talked, it sounded intriguing. I was still not sure what the show was about, but I was watching it that same evening.

The evening came and went, and I laughed so hard during Avenue Q that I swear it's an awesome show.

It was basically a musical ala Sesame Street, but with ADULT themes as it dealt with purpose in life, racism, romance, sexual identities and sex. Unlike Sesame Street, Avenue Q has the puppeteer stand on stage with his/her puppet in full view, while some characters remained as human beings conversing with these puppet characters.

The way they talked, moved and sang was incredibly amazing. The actors were ambidextrous, sometimes holding on to one thing in 1 hand, and another thing in the 2nd hand. They often switched roles, and played multiple puppet characters as well.

It is indeed a musical I could relate to very well... as the main character, Princeton, was looking for a bigger purpose in life. So was I, and that was how I ended up in New York University, trying to upgrade myself and gain enough experiences to bring home... so that I can enrich another in my area of work.

When I walked out of the theatre, I felt very good. I suddenly felt so energised and alive, and as I walked through Times Square, I finally realised that to be in New York is to REALLY experience the musicals, the shows, and the performances.

That makes New York New York.

Philly Steak Sandwich

This is my "dining table", which is really the surface of a low-wardrobe. Skippy peanut butter, Quaker oat rice cakes, Welch's fruit juices (like Snapple), a Brita water filtration pitcher and a large porcelain bowl, which I have yet to use. Intention: eat instant Quaker oatmeal!

Well, this is my 'pathetic' state of frugality.





Believe it or not, I actually like this 1-foot long sandwich with everything inside. It's really good. But I've to down more water after eating this rather 'unhealthy' meal. Subway sandwiches are supposedly healthier than Burger King and Mac's, so that's my next favourite stop for meals.

Food, Glorious Food!

According to history, the I.House was conceived from the informal dinners that founder Harry Edmonds shared with grad students in the early 1920s. So dining and socialising at the Dining Hall is what they call the "breaking bread" experience, which I agree is the best time to make new friends.










The Dining Hall at the I.House serves delicious meals on most days, although they can be a little expensive. The cleanliness of the Dining Hall, the friendliness of the staff and the overall ambience are really impressive.




My favourite meal thus far includes stir fried rice, baked salmon (hidden under the cream sauce), and veggies (carrots, broccoli, lemons, cucumbers):












Cost: US$8.19 (includes tax)


So, when I am frugal on most days, I'd stay in my room to eat my rice cakes with peanut butter, OR buy from a nearby Deli a 1-foot long Philly Steak sandwich with a free can of soda for only US$3.99

More of I.House

The International House is a huge residence with an array of facilities and amenities. I am trying not to behave like a tourist, carrying a camera just to show you around. But in the quiet hours of the afternoon, I decided to take a few snapshots.

The hallway from the elevator to the Main Hall does look like an art gallery:












The next set of pictures is the most impressive one. When I first walked in to I.House and saw the grandiosity of the Main Hall with high ceilings and chandeliers, I was glad I made this my choice residence.





















Sometimes, we all gather at the Main Hall for a very formal reception, where students from all over the world are handsomely dressed in suits and elegant dresses, and mingle with each other with some cheese in hand and a glass of wine.

The most recent formal event I attended was the Sunday Supper at the Davis Hall on 17 September 2006. It was a dinner, followed by a talk by the American Red Cross CEO, Theresa Bischoff. Some students, who were obviously professional musicians and singers, performed as well as part of the evening entertainment programme. It was a very nice experience indeed.

Inside International House

Some pictures of my dormitory:


This is the hallway from my room towards the common restroom. Atypical of most dormitories which are noisy with radios blasting and people getting drunk or having parties on their floors, mine is a very sedate one. Quiet, peaceful... and somewhat strange. Like a hotel.

My room is small. Taken at an angle near the door, the left is a loft bed, and the right a desk with shelves and another bookcase.

The view overlooks other rooms in I.House, but to the right, are some trees from the Sakura Park nearby.

As can be seen, the only "space" I have is really the walking space between the bed and the desk.

I am not complaining. The furniture, clean bedsheets, towels, and blankets, including a sink are all part of the package.

Manhattan Transfer

It is now one month since I landed on American soil.

Manhattan.

The word connotes vibrancy and diversity.
It also brings along with it images of heightened security and terrorist attacks.

Has this mattered so far?
Well, apart from the daily dose of sirens going off -- spelling danger somewhere nearby -- and the onslaught of police officers at almost every street corner, I must say that New York City pulsates with life, and the tempo is still going dramatically fast. Afterall, New York City is the heartbeat of the American system. So there is no excuse for stopping. Not even for a second.

This rapid yet upbeat rhythm punctuates life as I see it. One classmate at the New York University accurately sums this up: 'The only form of human communication you have is when someone stops you to ask for directions."

So how am I doing?
Have I settled in?
Is the Manhattan transfer from a little street in Singapore a smooth one?

Logistically, I am very comfortable at the International House (or I.House, for short). It is a very clean student hostel in the vicinity of Columbia University, with sufficient amenities and facilities to get life going. The dining hall serves food almost everyday, but it does get a little pricey. But I have to eat it -- my I.House card has stored value in it, and it is the mode of payment at the Dining Room. Since it is non-refundable, I should use up the money in my card eventually.

Security is very tight even in here. So I don't really have to bother with safelocking my stuff since the door automatically locks from the inside when it is closed. Like a hotel room, you will need the same magnetic card to access your room. It can be a tad inconvenient, but I have come to terms with it. So going to the restroom down the hallway, especially for shower, with my wallet (or pouch in wallet) is a common sight. In fact, it is a necessity. If I am locked out, I will need to pay $5 for a re-activation fee to open the door.

I really have no complaints about my lodging, except for the little inconveniences now and then.

But what amazes me most is the unpredictability of the Subway trains. I can be travelling on the 1-train and suddenly, the driver announces something unintelligible, and people storm off to find an alternative train to whatever destination they were meant for. At other times, I try to make a transfer but realise that the train is not operational for that day. A usual 40-minute ride to NYU can take up to an hour due to such unforeseen circumstances.

Today, I hopped onto one train, wanting to get from Union Square station to somewhere else. But the train was on 'express' mode, and it went to Canal Street Station instead, many stops after. Frustrated, I had to walk many blocks before I found the station that could bring me back to a route that led to school. Luckily I wasn't hard-pressed for time, so I could enjoy bits of Chinatown for the first time.

I think I still have a lot of adjustments to make. Or perhaps less expectations of a City that never sleeps.