Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Regostan in America
American Gypsy: Rego Park, New York’s Bukhari Community
My gypsy spirit has taken me around the world only to discover there are cultural gems hidden in our own backyard. Think of them as tiny countries tucked into our most cosmopolitan cities, where one can uncover an entire culture without having to travel very far.
Today we are headed to Rego Park. For more 2,000 years, Central Asia was home to the Bukhari—one of the most isolated Jewish communities in the world. After the fall of the Soviet Empire, the Silk Road came to Queens, bringing tens of thousands of immigrants from the former Soviet republics of Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, as well as Afghanistan and western China.
Rego Park (or Regostan), located in the borough of Queens just minutes from Manhattan, is known as Bukharian Broadway. It is a cultural commercial strip along 108th Street and has several kosher restaurants and stores stocked with imports from the Silk Road: Iranian nuts, Turkish coffee, Hungarian spices, Russian samovars for brewing tea, and fine china (probably from China.)
I found myself standing on the corner of 108th street convinced that I was not in New York anymore. The long street was filled with little old ladies wearing babushkas as loud Russian voices echoed from the local produce stand. Down the road, the light strains of a violin spilled from a restaurant that seemed to be getting quite busy. It was time to dine.
Every table in Restaurant Fortuna was packed with families speaking Russian, Uzbek, Hebrew, Farsi, and Tajik languages. I had no idea how to greet the host so I simply said, “Shalom” and he “Shalom-d” me back.
I felt like I was sitting in the middle of 10 countries and the menu was literally the Silk Road on paper. My options were chebureki (deep-fried lamb dumplings from the country of Georgia), manti (Turkish steamed dumplings), borsch (Russian beet soup), a warm samsa (like an Indian samosa), shish kebobs (from the Middle East and Turkey) and shurpa (hearty spiced lamb soup from Central Asia), which is noted in an old Kazakh proverb “Meat brings strength, shurpa brings beauty.” Of course I ordered the shurpa!
While waiters passed around dishes of warm plov, (Uzbekistan's national rice dish), live musicians played Russian music on the small dance floor, and vodka took the place of water. As I always say, “When in Bukharian Broadway, do as the Bukharians do!” So for this one night I became a Bukhari kid, stuffed with plov, drunk on vodka, and dancing with the best of the babushkas.
Throughout the celebration I noticed that the kitchen was all women and the waiters were all men. I discovered that it’s a Bukhari requirement that a woman must know how to cook for at least 500 people.
As I danced and chatted with a young Bukhari couple from Uzbekistan, who had emigrated to the U.S. in search of the proverbial better life, I asked and I learned. I learned that Bukharians observe an Orthodox form of Judaism and New York's Bukharian community consists of about 15 percent of the Russian-speaking Jews in the city. But their customs are different, their religion is different, and their food is different. Discovering the differences is what the gypsy does.
Bukharian Broadway is a joy for anyone with a whisper of a gypsy spirit. The people, the food, the music, the shopping, the language, the religion were all new to me but for that one night, the people became like family. I went home with a new tea set, a Russian samovar, Hungarian paprika to sprinkle over my kabob, Russian vodka, Turkish coffee, and a whole new understanding of a culture that resides practically next door.
Hello
Russian: Privet
Ukranian: Zdrastuy
Hebrew: Shalom
Persian: Salam
Georgian: Gamardjobat
(In Tajik and Uzbek one can say: Salom)
Thank you
Russian: Spacibo
Ukrainian: diakuiu
Hebrew: toda
Persian: Merci
Georgian: didi madloba
Goodbye
Russian: Do svidanja
Ukranian: Do pobachennya
Hebrew: Shalom
Persian: Hodafez
Georgian: naxvamdis
(In Uzbek, Tajik and Afghan one can say: Khair)
alf layla wa-layla
every tale in The Thousand and One Nights begins with an 'appearance of destiny' which manifests itself through an anomaly, and one anomaly always generates another. The end of every tale in the The One Thousand and One Nights consists of a 'disappearance' of destiny, which sinks back to the somnolence of daily life ... The protagonist of the stories is in fact destiny itself.
What is destiny?
What is love?
Why do women suffer the pains of love more so then men? and why does a woman have the power to live for 1001 nights by speaking, opening up her heart, and loving...while the king of the man still resists even though he wants to let in.
Enta Omri
From:
Om Kalthoum - You are My LifeOh you who is more precious than my days
Oh you who is sweeter than my dreams
Take me to your longing take me
Pull me away from the universe
Far, far away you and I
From the love that awakens our days
From the desire than sleeps our nights
I've reconciled time my days with you
I've reconciled time with you
I forgot my pains with you
And I forgot with you my woes
Your eyes called me to the days that have passed
They taught me to regret the past and its wounds
That which I experienced before my eyes saw you
What is the wasted life to me?"
"Love - which is God - will consider our sighs and tears as incense burned at His altar and He will reward us with fortitude. Good-bye, my beloved; I must leave before the heartening moon vanishes."
A pure voice, combined of the consuming flame of love, and the hopeless bitterness of longing and the resolved sweetness of patience, said, "Good-bye, my beloved."
They separated, and the elegy to their union was smothered by the wails of my crying heart.
I looked upon slumbering Nature, and with deep reflection discovered the reality of a vast and infinite thing -- something no power could demand, influence acquire, nor riches purchase. Nor could it be effaced by the tears of time or deadened by sorrow; a thing which cannot be discovered by the blue lakes of Switzerland or the beautiful edifices of Italy.
It is something that gathers strength with patience, grows despite obstacles, warms in winter, flourishes in spring, casts a breeze in summer, and bears fruit in autumn -- I found Love.
Khalil Gibran
It still hurts when I see the pictures of him, hear the sounds of him , or even simply have a memory pop into my mind of him. But that hurt is birthing itself into a space that is open for my choice...my choice of sorrow over the past or my choice of trust about the immense love that is already here with in me, for me, by me...which will be complimented in due time by my divine man when he and i are ready for eachother.
I am the sky...not yearning or fearing the clouds that will come. And they will bring rain but that rain is a process in the atmosphere of life. Circulating the energies and all I am is the space that stays steady and true despite the temporary gloom. I am still the space. I hold the space still.
! I am
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Love Now and Forget the Past
Remember that one person many years ago. That one person whose name still sends shivers down your spine. You remember how much you yearned for them when they were close and how much you suffered when they were far away. You hear an old song, smell a fragrance, or drive down a certain street and you feel the love that was once there but is no longer and will never be. For me. those memories leave a mark inside my soul and they seem to effect every relationship I have. According to an article by Amadon; Love Rules the Present, he says “If loves rules the present then why do people compare their current lover to their past lovers?
I feel it is b/c we are not always in the present moment. Sometimes we are always fearful of the past pain creeping into our current situation. This is a natural response. Just like a dog that was abused, he will always flinch when a hand comes close to his face. How do we separate the past from the present and find the love in the now?
A woman friend of mine has been married 4 times and has been single and pretty much celibate for the past 8 years. She is a beautiful 50 year old woman with a successful career and playful lifestyle. But her heart is so heavy from being hurt so many times in the past. I even find myself, a young woman in my 20’s, fearing that certain situations that happened to that woman will happen to me.
When we are caught up in the issues of the past we can not see what is in front of us clearly. Amadon says, “All beings surrender to love, like a falling apple surrenders to gravity. Love rules the present. It rules by attraction, like gravity. We can fight love’s attraction, but it isn’t easy. Whoever is truly free—not stuck, or resisting—surrenders to love like a falling apple surrenders to gravity”.
The ‘falling’ of falling in love is the hardest part. This is when our deepest fears come bubbling to the surface and we must surrender to the authentic person who is standing in front of us in this moment. We must stop seeing them as that one person who hurt us so badly in the past and we must start seeing them as a new experience in the now.
“Inside every human being, ego and spirit battle to hinder or help our desire to love now”.
But why is it so hard to love in the now when we have been hurt in the past?
Oh how a single flower can carry the whole world of love in its fragrance. Even as its petals whither over time, the pigments deepen and the memory of the first moment the bud was pricked from the stem and placed in the palm of my hand keeps ripening in my heart. A single flower sustains the lovers journey and reminds me of the connection to my love.
My Thai Angel
I just spent an hour receiving one of the most powerful experiences of spiritual touch. After a long 3 days of moping around, feeling sorry for my current state of flux, and after a grueling yoga class where I couldn't think of anything but pizza "when I am out of class should I get whole wheat organic pizza or go for it at the Shakey's buffet?"
As I left yoga, feeling more tense then before I got there, I headed away from Shakey's, Whole Foods and Target and instead pulled into Nuch Thai Massage. There I was greeted with warm grins and exchanges of broken Thai on my part and high pitched greetings on theirs. They swooped me into the little wooden bed guarded by drapes and served me hot tea. I am used to this treatment there for it is an honor for you to allow them to wash your feet and perform on your body. But this time was different.
As I started my usual attempt to ask her her name and how you say it in Thai we start to play off of each other. She says nice to meet you with no consonants, so I teach her the endings to the words. "Mee" she says, "Meet", Says I. We go back and forth repeating the words and then laugh and move into the bed. As I am getting naked, she tells me that I am 'sexy'. I take a little hic-cup breath and smile with flattered embarrassment. She then makes a circle around my face in the air and says, "beuefu". As a first grade teacher, I say slowly to her, "be u tee fuul".
This is when the angel stepped in!
As we are repeating the word beautiful back and forth, sometimes with no t, I start to see into this moment. Her eyes are penetrating deeper than I was ready to receive, so, of course, I started to cry and attempt to push that word into my heart.
As I was feeding her the word, Beautiful, with confident intention, she was delicately serving me complete and utter love.
I took it all in and after about 3 hallucinating minutes I suddenly realized that in reality, we were actually in a little business next to strange patrons about to get a massage. So we laughed and she kissed me, hugged me and said with the most genuine Thai accent "thank you". With stoned eyes of disbelief and sheer excitement as to what just happened I laid down and blew all of this 'shit' out as she rubbed away the fear. Perfectly ending with her inviting me to Thailand in November, crawling on me as a child climbs on a mother, and whispers "I love you, ok?"
Well, yes, it is ok to love me.
Who can we let in and allow to love us? And where is the closet Thai massage in your city?
Healthy Eating is a New Culture
If health, variety and taste are what you want in a restaurant then the cuisine in LA is a perfect match. Health conscious food is also very tasty and trendy in this big beautiful city.
Luckily, vegetarian and vegan food is now tastier than ever.
With this health conscious trend hitting LA, one can indulge in luxury and ease at any of of these restaurants. M Cafe (www.mcafedechaya.com), where all the beautiful people enjoy a macrobiotic lunch outside on the terrace. A macrobiotic meal is where the food is balanced with just enough carbs and proteins.
Green Leaves, a cozy spot in Los Feliz where the menu is filled with tasty vegan entrees. Indulge in vegan chicken satay, blueberry and banana pancakes. There you will have a typical menu with hamburgers and fries but no animal products are used in the foods.
Euphoria Loves rawevolution (www.euphorialovesrawvolution.com/), where every thing is raw, organic, vegan and oh so tasty. Many others include Real Food Daily, where they have a great selection of organic wines, Mesob in little ethiopia on fairfax specializes in its vegetarian feasts and Paru's a southern indian restaurant that has traditional vegetarian courses.
These are the restaurants known for sustaining, health, vitality, outer beauty and inner peace.
Asian Body Treatments
For centuries, Asians have mastered the art of health and beauty. From the finest in Korean body scrubs, Thai massage, and Chinese herb and acupuncture. So the Gypsy way is to find these cultural spots in your city and treat yourself to much more then you would if it was a commercially-owned spa.
Koreatown, in the mid-Wilshire District of Los Angeles, is considered one of the most diverse neighborhoods in America with a Korean population of an estimated 160,000 people, making it the largest concentration of Koreans outside of Korea. It is under 5 square miles and is rich with brownstones, high-end Asian boutiques, markets and spas. For under a hundred dollars you can spend all day in a Korean spa or Jimjilbang and receive countless options of ancient healing treatments such as the famous Korean Scrub. Ajumas (older Korean women only wearing black underwear) or Ajoshis for the gentlemen (yes men get scrubs too), will scrub you from head to toe with a special exfoliating glove. The Korean Spa is in alignment with the tradition of the public bathhouses that began in Greece in the sixth century B.C and spread to Rome (Thermae), the Middle Eastern steam bath (Hamam), The Japanese (Sento), and the more contemporary uses of the Hot Springs in America. “Anyong Haseo” is the greeting in Korea and “Kamsamnida” is how to say thank you.
Just off Hollywood and Western in Los Angeles you will find an elaborate and lively neighborhood that resembles Thailand and is filled with Thai restaurants, markets, shops, import stores, clothing stores and massage spas. Thai town in Los Angeles is home to the world's first and only Thai Town with an estimated 80,000 Thai immigrants and is referred to as Thailand's 77th province because Bangkok (the capital of Thailand) and Los Angeles are both known as the City of Angels. For under $50 you can receive one of the most honoring and invigorating Thai massages, which some people refer to as the “lazy man’s yoga” because it is energizing instead of tiring when you are being crawled on by an adorable and giddy Thai masseuse. After the massage, you can walk to a local Thai restaurant and have a delicious meal. There are plenty of stores to shop in; great for buying gifts for others, as well as decorating your home with Asian accents. When you are in Thai town you forget you are in a big city…the generous spirit of the people fill your heart with gratitude for they are known to live in the Land of Smiles. Be sure to say “Sawadeka” when you enter and “Kob Kun ka” as you leave to say ‘thank you’.
These cultural excursions have been little countries of lessons in love for me.
Helping me to remember what it feels like to truly be honored by the human touch.
We so often stay 'closed', even in the comfort of our lovers' arms.
Or we resist the slightest touch from a friend.
But for some reason, a strangers touch can sometimes heal without any hesitation.
At least it has for me.
It just shows me that the skin is a vessel of energy...waiting to spread its love-filled message in the disguise of a massage.
___
Koreatown, in the mid-Wilshire District of Los Angeles, is considered one of the most diverse neighborhoods in America with a Korean population of an estimated 160,000 people, making it the largest concentration of Koreans outside of Korea. It is under 5 square miles and is rich with brownstones, high-end Asian boutiques, markets and spas. For under a hundred dollars you can spend all day in a Korean spa or Jimjilbang and receive countless options of ancient healing treatments such as the famous Korean Scrub. Ajumas (older Korean women only wearing black underwear) or Ajoshis for the gentlemen (yes men get scrubs too), will scrub you from head to toe with a special exfoliating glove. The Korean Spa is in alignment with the tradition of the public bathhouses that began in Greece in the sixth century B.C and spread to Rome (Thermae), the Middle Eastern steam bath (Hamam), The Japanese (Sento), and the more contemporary uses of the Hot Springs in America. “Anyong Haseo” is the greeting in Korea and “Kamsamnida” is how to say thank you.
Just off Hollywood and Western in Los Angeles you will find an elaborate and lively neighborhood that resembles Thailand and is filled with Thai restaurants, markets, shops, import stores, clothing stores and massage spas. Thai town in Los Angeles is home to the world's first and only Thai Town with an estimated 80,000 Thai immigrants and is referred to as Thailand's 77th province because Bangkok (the capital of Thailand) and Los Angeles are both known as the City of Angels. For under $50 you can receive one of the most honoring and invigorating Thai massages, which some people refer to as the “lazy man’s yoga” because it is energizing instead of tiring when you are being crawled on by an adorable and giddy Thai masseuse. After the massage, you can walk to a local Thai restaurant and have a delicious meal. There are plenty of stores to shop in; great for buying gifts for others, as well as decorating your home with Asian accents. When you are in Thai town you forget you are in a big city…the generous spirit of the people fill your heart with gratitude for they are known to live in the Land of Smiles. Be sure to say “Sawadeka” when you enter and “Kob Kun ka” as you leave to say ‘thank you’.
These cultural excursions have been little countries of lessons in love for me.
Helping me to remember what it feels like to truly be honored by the human touch.
We so often stay 'closed', even in the comfort of our lovers' arms.
Or we resist the slightest touch from a friend.
But for some reason, a strangers touch can sometimes heal without any hesitation.
At least it has for me.
It just shows me that the skin is a vessel of energy...waiting to spread its love-filled message in the disguise of a massage.
___
Friday, March 20, 2009
Korean Scrub Disguised as a Hug
Another disillusioned day of woe in this big city and I find myself going to where I feel most at home... in the midst of a culture.
Today, I picked Korea town!
I have heard of these so called Women's Day Spa's and have passed by one many times on my route to and fro. Enticingly, it was named, The Grand Spa, so I decided to create an adventure for myself. As I was getting into the elevator I was accompanied by young, giggling Korean girls. They were all excited and talking in Korean about all the services they are going to get done. I tried not to stare too much but I was hoping to get a glimpse of understanding as to what I should do.
As the doors open, my eyes were greeted by an array of Korean women all dressed in white. From white towels, robes, to scrubs. I swirled around trying to figure out what the posters on the wall and front desk meant.
Finally I spotted something I recognized, "Oil Massage", "Scrub", $40".
That sounded good to me. I greeted the woman with a smile and pointed to the poster. She smiled and nodded and gave me my own white robe and towel. At this point, I was a bit confused, but I just smiled and made my way to the locker rooms.
All wrapped up in my white towel, I made my way towards the squeaky sounds of water and flip flops. The Grand door opened to what seemed like a mermaids oasis.
20 showers to your left, with a standing or sitting option, soaking tubs upstairs in all different temperatures, dry saunas, steam rooms, and so much more. I decided to try it all.
As I peeked into the dry sauna I saw expressionless, naked Korean women sitting, sweating and watching tv. I went in for a few minutes and found it impossible to make eye contact with them. As I sat and attempted to block out the Korean news, I decide to head to the tubs. Hmmm...should I do the Green tea cold plunge, the warm plunge, or the hot salt plunge. I decide to go into the cold. For I do know that circulating from hot to cold stimulated your lymphatic and adrenal systems. As i slowly stepped inch my inch into the freezing cold water, my cathartic reactions got the better of me. My Oklahoma came out and I could not help but to laugh and scream! Now of course, I caught some eyes. The naked Korean woman all looked at me with a slight grin on their face, as I said to them with articulation,
"C O L D". They nodded and giggled and I popped out of there faster than a frog about to be cooked in a pot.
I spent 20 minutes or so popping in and out of steam rooms and hot tubs until I was stopped by a short, chubby, Korean woman wearing a black bra and black panties. "Numbe 75?" she says to me. Remembering the number on the key to my locker I say yes. She slaps me on the back and says, "Good".
Is she my masseuse?
She leads me past the showers and into the massage room that shares the same floors as the showers. As I passed naked Koreans lying on wet beds, I heard the sounds of flesh hitting wet flesh. My eyes were wide with complete shock. Not only was I naked and wet, so was my masseuse. For some reason, it filled me with memories of Miller Swim School as a kid. Oh, how I loathed swimming lessons!
She lead me into the room and smacked the plastic bed with her hand signifying me to hop on. s.o. hop on.
She then pours hot water all over me like a dog being washed in the sink. I was laughing with awe at the fact that this was happening to me. She pulled me down on my tummy and got these huge exfoliating gloves on. With brisk movements she salted and scrubbed me like a piece of meat being seasoned for the BBQ.
As I vocally express my shock and amusement she says the second English word of the day, "Good?" "Good" I say.
Then more warm water was being poured on my back with small bowls and I started to relax and enjoy it. Until, I turned my head and was faced with a big black panted crotch in my face. She was pouring hot oil over my back and rubbing me like a potter loosens his clay but just a little too close. I couldn't move too much...even though she was small, she was strong as hell.
Did she realize her black panted crotch was in my face? I held my breath and let her do her job. After vigorous strokes all over my body, she flipped me over and opened a box filled with cucumber and pear relish. She slabbed the goo on my face and wrapped me in a steaming hot towel. I would have smiled at this point, but I was afraid the facial relish was not edible.
Then came my favorite part...she washed my hair. With vigor, she lathered and brushed and rinsed like Ann used to do when I was a kid.
As this whole process was going on, no words were said in the whole place, only the sounds of water splashing and hands smacking wet thighs was heard.
She then rinsed me off and poured this warm, white liquid over me. Milk! She was pouring warm milk all over my body. I let a little drizzle into my mouth and had a faint memory of my mother for some reason.
That was all. She slapped my back to tell me to get up and shower.
I said "Kom sam nee da" which is "thank you' in Korean as she slapped my ass on the way out.
In amazement with what just happened, I showered off and robed up. Still curious, I see that this was just the beginning of the spa. There was an array of Korean women meticulously applying make-up, others lounging in robes watching Korean music videos. There is even a place to sleep on warm tile floors and thin mattresses (overnight, too). I got dressed, paid my small fee, and left with the same grin of confusion as I walked in with. But I sure did feel relaxed. In some way I felt healed. It was like a mother/child experience that I have not felt in a long time.
How good it is!
Another cultural connection of sharing bodies with out saying more than 3 words,
'Hello', 'Thank you' and "Good bye".
That's all we need!
Today, I picked Korea town!
I have heard of these so called Women's Day Spa's and have passed by one many times on my route to and fro. Enticingly, it was named, The Grand Spa, so I decided to create an adventure for myself. As I was getting into the elevator I was accompanied by young, giggling Korean girls. They were all excited and talking in Korean about all the services they are going to get done. I tried not to stare too much but I was hoping to get a glimpse of understanding as to what I should do.
As the doors open, my eyes were greeted by an array of Korean women all dressed in white. From white towels, robes, to scrubs. I swirled around trying to figure out what the posters on the wall and front desk meant.
Finally I spotted something I recognized, "Oil Massage", "Scrub", $40".
That sounded good to me. I greeted the woman with a smile and pointed to the poster. She smiled and nodded and gave me my own white robe and towel. At this point, I was a bit confused, but I just smiled and made my way to the locker rooms.
All wrapped up in my white towel, I made my way towards the squeaky sounds of water and flip flops. The Grand door opened to what seemed like a mermaids oasis.
20 showers to your left, with a standing or sitting option, soaking tubs upstairs in all different temperatures, dry saunas, steam rooms, and so much more. I decided to try it all.
As I peeked into the dry sauna I saw expressionless, naked Korean women sitting, sweating and watching tv. I went in for a few minutes and found it impossible to make eye contact with them. As I sat and attempted to block out the Korean news, I decide to head to the tubs. Hmmm...should I do the Green tea cold plunge, the warm plunge, or the hot salt plunge. I decide to go into the cold. For I do know that circulating from hot to cold stimulated your lymphatic and adrenal systems. As i slowly stepped inch my inch into the freezing cold water, my cathartic reactions got the better of me. My Oklahoma came out and I could not help but to laugh and scream! Now of course, I caught some eyes. The naked Korean woman all looked at me with a slight grin on their face, as I said to them with articulation,
"C O L D". They nodded and giggled and I popped out of there faster than a frog about to be cooked in a pot.
I spent 20 minutes or so popping in and out of steam rooms and hot tubs until I was stopped by a short, chubby, Korean woman wearing a black bra and black panties. "Numbe 75?" she says to me. Remembering the number on the key to my locker I say yes. She slaps me on the back and says, "Good".
Is she my masseuse?
She leads me past the showers and into the massage room that shares the same floors as the showers. As I passed naked Koreans lying on wet beds, I heard the sounds of flesh hitting wet flesh. My eyes were wide with complete shock. Not only was I naked and wet, so was my masseuse. For some reason, it filled me with memories of Miller Swim School as a kid. Oh, how I loathed swimming lessons!
She lead me into the room and smacked the plastic bed with her hand signifying me to hop on. s.o. hop on.
She then pours hot water all over me like a dog being washed in the sink. I was laughing with awe at the fact that this was happening to me. She pulled me down on my tummy and got these huge exfoliating gloves on. With brisk movements she salted and scrubbed me like a piece of meat being seasoned for the BBQ.
As I vocally express my shock and amusement she says the second English word of the day, "Good?" "Good" I say.
Then more warm water was being poured on my back with small bowls and I started to relax and enjoy it. Until, I turned my head and was faced with a big black panted crotch in my face. She was pouring hot oil over my back and rubbing me like a potter loosens his clay but just a little too close. I couldn't move too much...even though she was small, she was strong as hell.
Did she realize her black panted crotch was in my face? I held my breath and let her do her job. After vigorous strokes all over my body, she flipped me over and opened a box filled with cucumber and pear relish. She slabbed the goo on my face and wrapped me in a steaming hot towel. I would have smiled at this point, but I was afraid the facial relish was not edible.
Then came my favorite part...she washed my hair. With vigor, she lathered and brushed and rinsed like Ann used to do when I was a kid.
As this whole process was going on, no words were said in the whole place, only the sounds of water splashing and hands smacking wet thighs was heard.
She then rinsed me off and poured this warm, white liquid over me. Milk! She was pouring warm milk all over my body. I let a little drizzle into my mouth and had a faint memory of my mother for some reason.
That was all. She slapped my back to tell me to get up and shower.
I said "Kom sam nee da" which is "thank you' in Korean as she slapped my ass on the way out.
In amazement with what just happened, I showered off and robed up. Still curious, I see that this was just the beginning of the spa. There was an array of Korean women meticulously applying make-up, others lounging in robes watching Korean music videos. There is even a place to sleep on warm tile floors and thin mattresses (overnight, too). I got dressed, paid my small fee, and left with the same grin of confusion as I walked in with. But I sure did feel relaxed. In some way I felt healed. It was like a mother/child experience that I have not felt in a long time.
How good it is!
Another cultural connection of sharing bodies with out saying more than 3 words,
'Hello', 'Thank you' and "Good bye".
That's all we need!
Americas Gypsy
Do you know how happy I was when I was a gypsy? Just floating around like a foreign traveler flows through the ancient city…these cities of mystery. Enchanting opportunities at every corner where some poor Serbian beggar and I drink Slivovitch, “Zivoli!” or some opinionated Persian is making me kashk-e badenjun. What would I speak next, French…apres I ordered mon tarte e pastis and lit my imported cigarette? Or would I speak Arabic for ithnan seconds, finishing all the only words I know and then shaking my hips to prove my knowledge. Or maybe I would meet a valet, who sits outside waiting for me with a grin of gratitude as I hablo mi espanol. Por que everyone likes to hear Hola! Hola Hola J Oh….this gypsy squirming in my belly when Amr Diab comes on the air…yalla yalla Loosening me up with the waves of salsa Viejo that sweep into my lips, wrapping me with memories of my past latin lovers and churning the suavesito of my senses as I sip my mojito! And oh…my groins that pawn at the site of your majestic name…you from that country afar…with promises that keep me happy at night, even though my American hand is my only friend. Me, an American Gypsy…screaming the songs of solitude in this echo less city! My Oklahoma charm is wearing thin bc the skin of the world is coming in! And no other man loves me better than that big, fat, rough globe of you! You…LAND! You…LANGUAGE! You OLD Woman that spits out my name into every dish of ethnicity I eat! Comelo! Comelo! World, Fuck me in my eyes so that I can see your real color! Shove dirt into my mouth so that I can taste your stories. Blow your songs into my ear so hard that the melody comes out on the other side! Me…Eat me world! Fill YOU with ME! I want to feel your trees inside my knees, so much that I bleed from the seams of corporate he’s! Take me into your arms as if I was your lover and come in me so that you are me and I am you. But WHO ARE YOU? And why can’t I see you! How can you take these realistic burdens away so that no duty can block your organic play? To run along your streets, to swim in your streams, to eat with my hands on my knees. Sunburned and cold, bartering my shirts to get them sold. That freedom, that peace…but its so so so far from me. Cesaria Evora sings my woes as Willy Colon taps my toes! You men, so old, who see my rubies and my gold. You see me as this child, listening to you, filling me with your stories of survival and exile. Putting life into perspective in ways I can not even imagine…but I do, imagine…bc of you! You give me a gift of a kaleidoscope view of what family means, how music sounds, what food tastes like, what language really is and how above all else, love is all you need. What love really is??? Its is a meal prepared by the most authentic and cultured hands that create this feast of flavors and all for me!!!…arros con pollo ‘aye que rico’, foi grois avec le gout de la dieu, creole of jambalaya’s leaving tastes in my mouth for hours, chunks and chunks of kibbe and korma, the sambusas of spices pushing the limits pad se eu style! That mambo melting into my hips as I hold you, yes YOU…to tango into the night. I am yours forevermore, here I stand ready to explore…you, land. Je suis ici y toute est bein, por que you tengo mi mundo, en shallah en shallah, bi amar min allah!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
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