When I was trying to calibrate my expectations for our move to Albany, I often thought back to my time in Grand Rapids, Michigan as a barometer. Both are similar size cities that are primarily suburban in nature. After living in Brooklyn for nine years, it was hard to imagine what everyday life looks like elsewhere.
I remember when I was in Grand Rapids, I would go to Meijer, a huge chain supermarket in that area for all my shopping. I would buy everything from milk and eggs, to socks and pens there. The store was so huge that if you were in one part of the store and you remembered something you’d forgotten from a previous part of the store, you may very well chalk it up for your next visit to Meijer. You’d definitely park in the lot depending on what you wanted to pick up on the trip.
At Meijer, I’d often stand in line and wait for the customers to pay for their purchases by writing a check. They’d carefully fill in the required information (as well as their ledger), and tear it out and give their Driver’s License along with the check to the cashier’s. This is not common practice in New York City where purchases are made in cash or with credit/debit cards. I can’t recall too many instances of witnessing someone writing out a check at the supermarket.
Monday, November 23, 2009
I Don't Think We're in NYC Anymore, Part 2
When I first contacted a real estate agent in the Albany area to inquire about the desirable neighborhoods, I was annoyed when he sent me back a telephone number without an area code. How did he expect me to reach him without an area code? After moving up here, I am finding that this is a common practice to display phone numbers sans area code.
New York City is served by a few different area codes. There is of course, the 212 for Manhattan and 718 for the “other” boroughs (how elitist of Manhattan to codify such a distinction!). Then there are the many new area codes for the ever growing cell phone numbers, such as 347, 917 and 646. In Albany, it’s all 518 every day of the week. My office land line and my business cell phone both start with 518, and it’s acceptable practice to simply omit the area code in most cases. I can even make an outgoing phone call without the area code (!).
New York City is served by a few different area codes. There is of course, the 212 for Manhattan and 718 for the “other” boroughs (how elitist of Manhattan to codify such a distinction!). Then there are the many new area codes for the ever growing cell phone numbers, such as 347, 917 and 646. In Albany, it’s all 518 every day of the week. My office land line and my business cell phone both start with 518, and it’s acceptable practice to simply omit the area code in most cases. I can even make an outgoing phone call without the area code (!).
I Don't Think We're in NYC Anymore, Part 1
The deposit levied by the state on carbonated beverages is in practice like a tax in New York City. This is because few people bother to collect and return the said containers to the store to receive their deposit. This is largely because the bottle return facilities are dirty or non-existent and primarily occupied by the homeless who patrol the blocks in “borrowed’ shopping carts. This is in start contrast to Michigan (where the deposit is double NY’s, or 10 cents) where returning large trash bagfuls of bottles and cans is an acceptable middle class activity, and just part of going to shop at a big box supermarket in the suburbs. Living in New York City for the past 9 years, I had largely forgot about the deposit since I had never returned a single can during that time.
In my office, it is a common site to see people with a big stash of their favorite carbonated drink in a corner of their office, to be returned for deposit. I also got into the practice and last night took back the dozens of beer bottles that had been sitting on our kitchen counter. I got back the counter space and knocked off a few bucks from my grocery bill. Welcome to suburban living.
In my office, it is a common site to see people with a big stash of their favorite carbonated drink in a corner of their office, to be returned for deposit. I also got into the practice and last night took back the dozens of beer bottles that had been sitting on our kitchen counter. I got back the counter space and knocked off a few bucks from my grocery bill. Welcome to suburban living.
Church Hopping, Part 1
Week 1: L* Community Church
This was mentioned to me as specifically NOT being a mega church, but if this isn’t a mega church than I don’t know what is. It is a very large and apparently well organized church. The adjoining wing had the various children’s ministries humming like a well oiled machine. The volunteers all wore matching name tags and the spaces for different age groups had lots of clean and age-appropriate furniture and play things.
The service itself was in a large auditorium space. The pastor recounted a conversation he had with another “Christian” (the quote is largely his) during which he offered as a litmus test of True Christianity one’s willingness to condemn homosexuality as anti-biblical, or as he put it “the willingness to stand for what’s right and what’s wrong”. The lily-white congregation nodded enthusiastically in agreement. The search for our new church home has just begun.
Week 2: C* United Methodist Church
This church sported more humble, run-down facilities (at least compared to week 1’s L* Community Church). The United Methodist denomination is traditionally the more left of center compared to other mainstream denominations (such as Presbyterian or Reformed), and I had a hope that I would find this church to be a better fit. Seeing a female head pastor definitely signaled that I was less likely to hear about the Bible’s clear and unequivocal condemnation to homosexuality.
The pastor was very soft spoken bordering on inaudible. Following a baptism of some of the children, she walked down the aisle sprinkling water on the congregation, encouraging us to remember our own baptism. There is definitely a precedent on the Old Testament to the leaders sprinkling fluids on the people (thankfully, it’s water instead of a freshly slaughtered animal). But in my three plus decades of church attendance, this was the first time that a pastor had sprinkled water on me.
Curiously, the coffee fellowship preceded the service (perhaps more awake congregants?) at this church. As a result, the congregation cleared out of the sanctuary within minutes of the conclusion of the service, and we did not get a chance to meet anyone. When exiting the sanctuary, I shook the pastors hand and offered that we were new (should be visually evident since again, the congregation was overwhelmingly white), but the pastor only smiled and nodded politely, and did not follow up with a conversation in the coffee-less and quickly emptying reception area.
Week 3: Unaffiliated Church
During our research, we learned that the senior pastor had earned his graduate degree from a well known, mainstream seminary, and further more was previously pasturing a congregation in New Jersey. Immediately, I felt hope that this church would be a better fit for us. Not to dismiss or put down the used car salesman who experiences a revelation from God and decides to lead a flock a la Paul, but I will take my pastors with credentials from an accredited and well-known mainstream institution any day of the week.
The sermon did not disappoint, and I was pleased to hear hardly a slam on any marginal group be it women, homosexuals or the “Christians” who fail to condemn said groups. At the start of the sermon, the pastor lowered the lights and showed a Powerpoint presentation to kick off the day’s message. It was titled “The Seven Wonders of the World”, and the summary of the presentation was the instead of looking for “wonders” such as the Hanging Gardens, The Great Wall or others, a child had more aptly identified more common and everyday gifts such as “seeing”, “touching” and “loving” as the “Seven Wonders”. Each of the Wonder identified by the child had corresponding heart-warming image (a butterfly landing on a flower, a waterfall with a rainbow, so on). The last of the Wonders identified by the presumably enlightened child was “loving”, and featured the face of Jesus (commonly referred to as the Clairol Jesus in the Art Department at Calvin College) in the sky as the sun was setting. The presentation was accompanied in the background by some Christian songs, and employed every transition available as part of Powerpoint, from disintegrating letters to texts sweeping out and over to reveal the next slide.
It’s hard to know how to respond to such a presentation, but the best thing that I can say about it is that it didn’t hurt anyone and its failure was limited to the aesthetic. Again, this church employed the coffee/fellowship time to precede the service and therefore we did not get to mingle with anyone. But of the three churches we have been to so far during our time here in Albany, this third one is the one we’d most likely return to.
This was mentioned to me as specifically NOT being a mega church, but if this isn’t a mega church than I don’t know what is. It is a very large and apparently well organized church. The adjoining wing had the various children’s ministries humming like a well oiled machine. The volunteers all wore matching name tags and the spaces for different age groups had lots of clean and age-appropriate furniture and play things.
The service itself was in a large auditorium space. The pastor recounted a conversation he had with another “Christian” (the quote is largely his) during which he offered as a litmus test of True Christianity one’s willingness to condemn homosexuality as anti-biblical, or as he put it “the willingness to stand for what’s right and what’s wrong”. The lily-white congregation nodded enthusiastically in agreement. The search for our new church home has just begun.
Week 2: C* United Methodist Church
This church sported more humble, run-down facilities (at least compared to week 1’s L* Community Church). The United Methodist denomination is traditionally the more left of center compared to other mainstream denominations (such as Presbyterian or Reformed), and I had a hope that I would find this church to be a better fit. Seeing a female head pastor definitely signaled that I was less likely to hear about the Bible’s clear and unequivocal condemnation to homosexuality.
The pastor was very soft spoken bordering on inaudible. Following a baptism of some of the children, she walked down the aisle sprinkling water on the congregation, encouraging us to remember our own baptism. There is definitely a precedent on the Old Testament to the leaders sprinkling fluids on the people (thankfully, it’s water instead of a freshly slaughtered animal). But in my three plus decades of church attendance, this was the first time that a pastor had sprinkled water on me.
Curiously, the coffee fellowship preceded the service (perhaps more awake congregants?) at this church. As a result, the congregation cleared out of the sanctuary within minutes of the conclusion of the service, and we did not get a chance to meet anyone. When exiting the sanctuary, I shook the pastors hand and offered that we were new (should be visually evident since again, the congregation was overwhelmingly white), but the pastor only smiled and nodded politely, and did not follow up with a conversation in the coffee-less and quickly emptying reception area.
Week 3: Unaffiliated Church
During our research, we learned that the senior pastor had earned his graduate degree from a well known, mainstream seminary, and further more was previously pasturing a congregation in New Jersey. Immediately, I felt hope that this church would be a better fit for us. Not to dismiss or put down the used car salesman who experiences a revelation from God and decides to lead a flock a la Paul, but I will take my pastors with credentials from an accredited and well-known mainstream institution any day of the week.
The sermon did not disappoint, and I was pleased to hear hardly a slam on any marginal group be it women, homosexuals or the “Christians” who fail to condemn said groups. At the start of the sermon, the pastor lowered the lights and showed a Powerpoint presentation to kick off the day’s message. It was titled “The Seven Wonders of the World”, and the summary of the presentation was the instead of looking for “wonders” such as the Hanging Gardens, The Great Wall or others, a child had more aptly identified more common and everyday gifts such as “seeing”, “touching” and “loving” as the “Seven Wonders”. Each of the Wonder identified by the child had corresponding heart-warming image (a butterfly landing on a flower, a waterfall with a rainbow, so on). The last of the Wonders identified by the presumably enlightened child was “loving”, and featured the face of Jesus (commonly referred to as the Clairol Jesus in the Art Department at Calvin College) in the sky as the sun was setting. The presentation was accompanied in the background by some Christian songs, and employed every transition available as part of Powerpoint, from disintegrating letters to texts sweeping out and over to reveal the next slide.
It’s hard to know how to respond to such a presentation, but the best thing that I can say about it is that it didn’t hurt anyone and its failure was limited to the aesthetic. Again, this church employed the coffee/fellowship time to precede the service and therefore we did not get to mingle with anyone. But of the three churches we have been to so far during our time here in Albany, this third one is the one we’d most likely return to.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Unpacking/Homesick
It's been four days since we moved from Brooklyn to Albany. Our apartment is still littered with partially unpacked moving boxes and takeout containers piled high everywhere. Already, we've shopped at Walmart half a dozen times (welcome to suburbia!). Our kitchen is still not functional, and every meal brings up a dilemma of take out choices.
More than a decade ago, I left Korea and came to Grand Rapids, Michigan to attend Calvin College. I had been enrolled in college in Korea for three semesters when I left. My Korean college time was spent mostly in pool halls, bars and other joints frequented by college underclassmen. Not that I deprived myself of pleasure during my high school years to study for my college entrance exams, but I undertook the whole crazy Korean college experience with gusto, rarely coming home sober. Coming from this and a city of 10 plus million (Seoul) to sleepy Grand Rapids (population: 200,000, or 2% of Seoul) was a huge shock to my system. I was sick with homesickness (redundant?). I frequently looked at my watch and silently converted the time to Korean time, and wondered what my friends must be doing at the time. I would occasionally find old Korean coins in my pockets or receipts from my favorite haunts in Korea and feel the unmistakable twinge of sadness in the pit of my stomach.
Needless to say, my move to Albany after 9 years in Brooklyn are strongly reminiscent of my arrival in Grand Rapids. Sure, I had moved previously in the US, but the change in scenery was not nearly as drastic. Or perhaps I should more honestly state that my previous moves in the US had been all for the better each time. After four years in Grand Rapids, Michigan I moved to Ann Arbor to attend graduate school. Ann Arbor, albeit a smaller town than Grand Rapids was far more urbane in feel and offered culture. After three years in Ann Arbor, I moved to New York City. Both of these moves were exciting. I can't even remember if I even experienced any homesickness at all.
Of course, after New York it's hard to imagine a comparably more exciting city to move to. The curse of becoming a New Yorker is that all moves are inevitably a step down in culture, excitement, everything. The strange thing is that my family is all here, so I hesitate to use the word "homesick" since I am literally home. This move is much more palatable than my move from Seoul to Grand Rapids. I have my family. But it is still in the back of my mind that I have left New York, the city that I have loved and lived in for close to a decade.
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