Prelude: One day in Boston

 With another trip planned for this weekend, I figured today is the day to start blogging about the five cities I've been in the past three months! When I dreamt up this crazy adventure I knew it would rearrange my life to a certain extent, but I never could have guessed that in only a matter of weeks a new rhythm has taken over. For starters, in order to fund this year I made a few conscious changes to daily living, the most substantial being moving in with two roommates and opting for homemade coffee over the latte at the shop. In regards to running away, I assumed that spending so much time away from home would make me less present, but in fact, traveling so frequently has had quite the opposite effect! The curiosity I embrace on the road has melted into my everyday living, from the opportunities I say "yes" to, to the conversations I strike up with strangers. It's a wonderful report card to bring back after such a small amount of time! But before I get ahead of myself, let me rewind back to November.....
  An opportunity came up to spend Thanksgiving in Boston, and even though my original plan was to officially start my blog in the new year, I decided to make this trip as a trial run. And after my friend Anne gave me a heads up about the $15 Fung Wa bus to New York City, I added the Big Apple to my agenda.
  On Thanksgiving day I landed in Boston and immediately hopped on the train to my friend Mary's in order to start cooking for dinner. Having not lived in a city where the majority of people take public transportation, the subway system is something that never ceases to amaze me. And this day in particular the trains were full of people holding casserole dishes! I saw the same thing a few weeks later in Washington DC on Super Bowl Sunday. Such a little thing but it stands out in my mind and makes me giggle every time.

The plan was to celebrate with a few of Mary's neighbors and I was to bake the pumpkin bread. This turned out to be quite a situation as there was no pumpkin, only squash, and no proper bread pan. Yanina, Mary's friend from school, and I put our brains together and managed to pull it off with quite a few laughs. Michael, the neighbor, loaned us a pan he kept ice in from his freezer, and we found a muffin tin. What resulted was some sort of coriander, anise, and random spices from the cupboard squash bread that I will never be able to reproduce, but was exceptionally good.                                       

  We made our way over to Michael's condo,  which was freshly renovated after the place had been destroyed by a fish tank that caught fire. He cooked the most incredible turkey and his mother's          

apple pie recipe. I have to say, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and this one took the cake. I can't put words to it, but there was something unique about gathering with a group of people I'd never met to share a meal and say thanks, like communion in the truest sense of the word. 

   The next morning was an early rise to commute to South Station to catch the Fung Wa bus to Chinatown in New York City. While waiting for a my train to the bus station, a local on the way to work shared his umbrella as it had started to rain, and spoke to me about a recent trip up to ski in Vermont. This gave rise to two thoughts. One, in the future it would behoove me to carry better gear for the elements. Two, is there an intentional act I
do that will increase the chance of me interacting
with the neighborhood while on the road?  Like something as simple as bright red nail polish which has frequently engaged me in conversation with women everywhere? It was food for thought.        

    This trip taught me to ease up on my overzealous

need to hear everyone's story. When I boarded the 

bus I mistakenly assumed that I would be surrounded by Chinese Americans, which was how it was ten years ago when my friend rode. Instead the bus was filled with hipsters and the man who sat next to me spoke on his phone the entire four hour drive.....in Spanish. So I took the opportunity to rest, enjoy my one holiday tradition of listening to Handel's Messiah in it's entirety, and wait for the Manhattan skyline to rise in front of me.