Diwali in the Office
My company employs a great many Indians, both in India (which we call "Region 10" for obscure corporate reasons) and in US offices such as mine. Consequently the Hindu holiday of
Diwali does not pass unregarded. Management decreed that celebrants could wear traditional Indian dress to work on Tuesday in honour of the festival. Quite a few took the opportunity, although the gentleman with whom I share an office said it was too much for all day. I guess it would be like wearing black tie at work, although the Indian formal wear looks an awful lot more comfortable than a dinner jacket.
There was a Christmas-like air, with Indian sweets shared in the coffee room and people greeting each other with wide smiles and "Happy Diwali". In the morning, some roamed the halls to see their neighbours and show off their finery.
Living on a Symbol
When we got back from our trip to Boston, we found a letter from the power company advising us that if our landlord doesn't pay the bills PDQ, we'll be without power in the common areas. Presumably that includes elevators, so while we're well-supplied with flashlights, it was a somewhat alarming notice.
On top of that, our street is being dug up for whatever reason they dig up streets. I can't say for sure, but there are certainly pipes involved. Nothing unusual about it, I suppose - but when one's address is Wall Street, there is some irony to all this upheaval outside our door. Yes, Western finance is being torn apart and we common folks are being side-swiped in the process. But it sure looks like our address is not content with mere metaphor.
Boston Weekend
This weekend we spent in Boston, just to see it. A step closer to the Toronto we miss, it's walkable, with leafy neighbourhoods of brick houses, pleasant parks and fine restaurants.
We took the subway to Harvard and poked around the halls of learning. The Fogg Museum turned out to be closed, but the
Sackler Museum next door claimed to have all their best pieces. An impressive collection it was, from Pollack, Picasso, Monet, Canaletto, Rembrandt, Durer, and all the way back to ancient Greek and Roman works, and Eastern cultures too. Fertile ground for my dogs in art collection.
On Sunday we did some recreational open-housing, masochistically satisfying ourselves that we could live much more comfortably in Boston than we can in New York.
Weekend with Mum
My mother came for the weekend. It was a very short visit, especially considering she insists on traveling on the bus, so she spent as much time
en route as she did
en famille.
On Saturday we went all the way North to Times Square with a vague idea of scoring tickets for a show at the newly re-opened ticket booth of glass. The line was ridiculous so we just took in the view from on top.
We strolled over to the public library to see the lions. We had trouble finding any actual books in the library itself. It seems they're all stored in catacombs and you have to search for it on a computer and fill out a request whereupon the material is whisked out of the stacks by pneumatic tube, or so the volunteer explained to us. We did a little shopping in the farmer's market in Union Square, a gentler scene than Times Square but more crowded.
In the evening we found a bistro in the West Village, with a convincingly French waiter (at least the accent was sustained). We met a friend of Mum's who is trying to get a show produced, the trans-generational dream, and had a very enjoyable party.
