NY: August-November

Manhattan from the Williamsburg Bridge

On July 31st, a warm sunny day in Burlington, I loaded two duffle bags, a suitcase, and a couple instruments into a cab, and left my apartment on Hyde Street behind. It was the first time I'd attempted to move on my own, and overall it went well. Still, it was pretty weird...

I had made arrangements to sublet a room in a New York apartment just three weeks before, and during that time, I managed to sell or give away things I didn't need, and find storage for books, and other stuff I wanted to hang onto. I actually gave away my air conditioner in exchange for storage - a great deal. I left the apartment spotless, and didn't say anything about leaving to my roommate, who was 2 months behind on his rent, and yielding the constant threat of eviction from our landlord, who at least accepted my taking off a month early.

I had a really great time those last few weeks - I was performing all the time up until the day I left, and the weather was awesome. a few friends from Boston even came up and played a couple things. It was a good way to go out, and I knew that I'd achieved my goal of connecting with another place that I love. I've been back there three times for gigs since I moved, and it's been a complete blast.

Anna Pardenik playing piano in New City Gallery on Church Street in Burlington, VT

I spent a week at home in MA, and left for NY on 8/8. Upon my arrival there, I started looking for work, and had a really decent transcription job that got me through the month. The 156th street sublet was not long, but I knew this. In September, I brought my things to another friends place in Brooklyn, and went up to Boston for a few gigs. Although it had been only 3 weeks, I needed to recharge before going on a housing search. When I returned, I got right to it, and moved into an apartment on W.138th Street on september 14th - my 26th Birthday.

W.138th Street in September, near my apartment

Living in NY was great up to that point - always new and interesting, cheaper than people say it is. but definitely not conductive to blogging. Some highlights would have to include going to hear music all around the city (for relatively little money), going to the Whitney Museum every Friday, and meeting a ton of musicians. While I only had a few gigs in the short time I was settling there (two of them in Jersey), I'd managed to find other work, and more copying jobs - two things I was on the lookout for.

In terms of concerts, I was particularly drawn to things at the Manhattan School of Music - I had a few friends there already, and found it easy to meet potential collaborators. When you get out of school, you realize how small that world really is. They also have a very strong Contemporary Music program. I particularly remember going to hear the MSM percussion ensemble play George Antheil's Ballet Mechanique. I could walk there in about 15 minutes from my place. I loved living in Harlem, and though I could be wrong, I'm not sure I'll ever find a deal like that in Manhattan again.

I'm finishing this post a couple of months after starting it, and perhaps the biggest reason for that is that the building I moved into caught fire on November 24th - less than 3 months after I began living there.

The fire was a tremendously surprising event, as the building seemed to be in good shape from my perspective. Perhaps living on the first floor hindered my view of the buildings overall condition, though I'm still not exactly sure.

I rented the room from Juan and Maria Hernandez, a retired couple whose kids had since grown and left the house. They were originally from Cuba and the Dominican Republic, cooked amazing food, and were enthusiastic to host a recent arrival from Vermont who didn't speak their native language. How I came to find these people is really a strange story that I have told a lot recently, and will try and spell out here:

The Whitney Museum in August 2012

Before I left for Labor Day gigs, I noticed a number for "rooms available" on a billboard near my first place on 156th and Broadway. I wrote it down, but I wanted to look at other things first. It seemed a bit odd, so I kept my distance. I found a similar ad on Craigslist, but with a different number, and the name Gabriel.

I waited until the last possible minute to call this number. I wanted to find a place by meeting with my potential roommate first, and handing them a check. When I realized that I wasn't going to have enough money to put down first and last as required, I resorted to calling Gabriel's number. His office was located in a regular 5-story building on E.33rd street. I was buzzed in by a receptionist who told me to go to the 5th floor. On that floor, I found Gabriel's office at the end of the hallway. His name was on the door, in arching decals:

G-A-B-R-I-E-L

It was then that I knew this was special, and I rode the special train to the end of the line.

He explained to me that he was a liaison to the company that dealt directly with the rentals, and that he would send me to them for a small fee. He explained how it worked, and it was definitely within my means. I was very hesitant at first, but also desperate! I gave him the fee, and he sent me to this other office - strangely, the same office for which I saw the billboard near my sublet. I showed them that I had payed the fee, and then waited to speak with them. 

Just about everyone in this office spoke fluent Spanish, and when I got to the desk I was asked to fill out a short form that also stated the process in detail. They had several notebooks with numbers and addresses. Though I never learned Spanish, I could tell that they were asking if there was a room available. If the person on the other end said yes, they went on: "OK. He's American, mid-20's, doesn't speak Spanish" etc. After about 10 minutes, they gave me two addresses. If either of those worked out, I'd pay the rent directly to the people in the unit, and move in immediately.

The people I spoke with at these addresses had no interest in me, likely because of my non-existent Spanish language skills. I went to the office the next day, and asked for a few more places to look at. This time around they were slower, and perhaps more detailed in their searching. They gave me two places to look at, and 138th street was the first. The building and unit were nicely kept, and Juan and Maria were incredibly warm people. Their English was a bit rough, but their will to communicate with me was strong. We definitely enjoyed each others company, and I was really starting to feel settled before the fire. A few days before it happened, they left for the Dominican Republic, where they were already planning to spend a few months. We'd worked out an arrangement for me to pay rent a relative of theirs who lived across the hall, and would clean for them while they were away.

The night before the fire was the coldest of the season. I went out for my usual walk around 10 or so, and made it down to 125th street before turning back (it was about 23 degrees, and windy). It made me feel exhausted, and I fell asleep quick after getting home. The next morning around 6am I woke to the sounds of firefighters breaking windows above our floor. I was a bit confused at first, and began to hear  shouting, catching a faint whiff of smoke.

My first instinct was to go into the kitchen, where I saw no sign of any fire. My neighbor and I quickly got out of the building. Being in a panic, I hadn't grabbed any belongings. I don't think I'd realized yet that the fire started on the 3rd floor and spread upward. Our unit was affected only by water damage - not the whole unit, but it's bad enough that they have to gut the whole place out and remodel it.

We spent the next four hours or so hearing updates on the fire, and by 10am it was declared extinguished. One of our neighbors (of several buildings over) let us into her apartment, where we made massive amounts of hot chocolate, and brought it to about a dozen people downstairs trying to keep out of the cold. The Red Cross was also present, with two large busses on Broadway, blankets, and food items. I spent a good amount of time in one of the busses chowing down on oreos and talking with some of my neighbors. One guy lived on the 5th floor, and didn't know if he could get back into his unit. Later I saw him on the corner with a few bags - he said he was able to get most of his stuff, but he was headed to live with a friend until he heard anything else. By noon, we were able to get into our unit, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that my room was dry(unlike the living room and the master bedroom, which both had windows near the street).

I grabbed my computers, packed a bag full of clothes, and made sure that anything that could possibly get wet was elevated before I left. When they let us in, they made it clear that our unit would not be habitable for a while. After saying a temporary goodbye to the building, I made my way down the the East Village for a meeting, as if nothing special had happened. I resolved to treat myself that day, ate really good food, and ended up staying with a friend in Brooklyn that night. Oddly enough, I'd scheduled to leave NY for Thanksgiving the day after the fire, so while it was a horrible thing, it couldn't have happened at a much more convenient time.

After Thanksgiving, I went back to 138th Street to clear out my room. It was going to take them at least 4 months to renovate the place, and I'm doubtful that I'll be going back there. However, crazier things have happened. We'll see what happens, always and forever.

I was grateful to have a few friends who could help me move and temporarily store my stuff. I don't have many things - just a few boxes, but enough that a solo move would be impossible. I spent the next few days working out details with some of my clients about how to continue working while away. It didn't seem worth it to search for a new place just then, and as I was technically subletting without a lease, the housing authority probably couldn't do much.

I left Manhattan for Boston on December 3rd, and I'm still traveling back and forth for activities relating to my work. I'm lucky to have great friends here who took me in before I was offered a stellar housing deal (by another great friend)  in Brighton. I currently plan on getting back to New York before July, almost a year after this whole Post-VT adventure started. The things that have happened to me since my unexpected return to Boston have generally been quite wonderful. Another new chapter starts there, and I'll be sure to share more frequently with anyone who is still reading.