Latin Groove

Last night I went to Glauster (more than an hour north) to hear my piano teacher's Latin band. He, another band member and I caught a commuter train, and it was quite a beautiful ride. Glauster is a fishing town that is quintessential New England. Very quaint and a crisp breeze. Modest homes with pointed roofs line the road that winds down to the harbor.

When you get to the harbor, there are many small funky galleries painted in pink or yellow with potted plants hanging from the ceilings and racks that sport artists' wares. Then there are several restaurants that are jutting out from the harbor to make you feel like you're right on the water. It was a most beautiful restaurant, and I ordered a lobster bisque (as opposed to "soup").

I had to admit that when I got there, I told myself, "What the hell am I doing?" Here I was with Martin (pronounced MarTEEN) and his all-male Latino band (check them out at http://www.grupofantasia.com). It was more testosterone than I was used to, and I barely know Martin. And what's worse is I didn't know what they were saying half the time since they were speaking Spanish to each other.

But I got into the groove. Martin's group packed the place out, and people were in such a party mood, easily taking the floor for some salsa dancing. I didn't dance for the first set of songs. But during the break, with CD music piping through the speakers, Martin pulled me onto the dance floor, and we did the simplest of dances, the meringue. So I was loosened up, and suddenly, another young man asked me to dance (I say "young" since he couldn't have been older than 20). It was fun. But the second set was over and I had all the dancing I needed for the night. So I retreated to the back of the bar area to watch and listen. It was a great experience. The guitarist, Julio, drove us back to Boston. They were driving in circles trying to find Malden (coming from the north). I told them they could use my map, but of course they wanted to figure it out themselves. I finally arrived home safely. Martin and the gang seem to be good-natured, well-rooted guys with strong family values and lots of loyalty. It somehow struck me that way. I'm leaning toward not going next week, partly because there is too much disparity between my lack of desire to dance and everyone else's desire to do just the opposite. This disparity made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. And I don't like to be in the position of making the host see or feel my discomfort, which was probably what happened last night.

I look at myself and realize this is not the same person who was so sheepish back in 1996 in Atlanta. I would've never ventured alone this way and hang out with people I barely knew. I'm glad things change.

Hot 'n' Spicy

Today I craved Panang curry, the kind I always order at Phuket Thai in the McCully Shopping Center. I found Thai Basil on Newbury Street, which is the most upscale part of the city. It was 4 p.m., and of course I was the only person in the lavishly furnished restaurant. The waiter doubted my request for "spicy," so I had to repeatedly say I wanted "spicy." When the food came, it was spicy enough, but he also brought more garishes to make it spicier, if I so chose to. I did. Overall, it was a wonderful dining experience, and I would go there again, even if they didn't have the requisite sticky rice.

Voices 'Round Midnight in Malden

OK. So it's midnight. And outside my window right now is this strange lady whose voice resembles that of a proverbial witch. I don't know what she's saying to someone else. Sounds like she's rummaging through something and frustrated about something and complaining and somewhat frantic about something. I'm scared since as I type this, it's just a wall and eight feet that separate us. What makes this even a bit eerier is that this is a garden-level apartment, meaning the bottom half is sunken below street-level, and my windows sill is the same level as the street.

But I sense she's gone now.

Malden, Massachussetts. The encounters here are a mixed bag, sometimes a nice surprise, but other times just an annoyance. Like earlier on the train, a guy was hitting on me before I had to set things straight that I had a boyfriend. And several times on the street, guys were trying to call my attention with, "Hey, excuse me!" or "Can I talk to you?"

Malden is a working-class town in a diverse city. I see lots of raggedy T-shirts and jeans here and men who don't shave quite as often as their office-working counterparts.

When I wait at the subway stations or sit inside trains, I hear many languages that are not English. Certainly Hawaii is quite a diverse city, but here, there are many more first-generation immigrants. And Malden seems to be the settling place for such people searching for opportunity.

So far, people have asked me if I could ever live in Boston, and based on my experience so far, I would have to say "Yes." For as little contact as I've already had with people here, I've enjoyed the city immensely. I can't imagine how much more I'd enjoy it if I were actually more plugged in via a job or school environment.

The plan is to return to Hawaii, though. I have lots to look forward to at home.

Posted by ruth at July 12, 2002 08:58 PM