Settling into New Realizations

Life In Chicago: Week 2

The apartment has begun to feel more and more homey with each passing day. My original painting from Zambia has taken a prominent position on our living room wall. The kitchen has just about any-sized pan one could need. My bedroom has a brand new queen size mattress and frame, a lovely Pier One chair, and 100 dollars worth of quality thrift store furniture. Many thanks to my go-getter father whom wastes no time when in set up mode. It kind of felt like Batman visited me this week. He jetted through in his Volvo station wagon, solved every annoyance I was having with the moving process, fed me good food, and still managed to not fall too far behind saving the world in Cincinnati. My friend Zach, who was also visiting proved to be one hell of a Robin. If anyone needs moving help I recommend enlisting these two fine gentlemen.

With the immediate pressure of moving out of the way I am able to more fully settle into my Chicago life. Realizations I’ve had in my first two weeks here have been many. But to list a couple…

1) Cars are lonely death boxes. Coming from places of less than adequate public transportation, too many hills, and impatient drivers has led to a mostly driving lifestyle. In just two weeks here I have fully embraced the biking/public transit lifestyle. The bike lanes make the car anxiety greatly dissipate. In fact, it seems during high traffic times, biking is not only the healthier, more environmentally friendly way to get around, but it is the fastest mode of transportation. I have gotten in a car accident, but am still bike accident free (I am knocking on wood as I write this). Oh, and perhaps the best part is the biker nod. When driving around the city, fellow drivers do not happily nod at each other acknowledging the beauty of the city by car. No… it is more of an everyone for themselves mentality. In fact, I am convinced that the assholeness often associated with big cities emerges from frustrated drivers. For it is impossible to be a kind driver in the city and get anywhere in a timely manner. Conversely, bikers have a camaraderie on the road. There is this friendly nod followed by a knowing smirk of slight pretension, but mostly of happiness to be outside, going places, and being safe. Bikers don’t angrily creep up on each other’s tails, but if they do get a little too close, they are able to actually say something face to face. There is humanity in travel outside of cars that may have more transformative potential than we realize. Writing this, I know I will still be using my car. Sometimes I’m lazy, sometimes it is still faster, sometimes I want to say “forget humanity” and crawl into my air conditioned box, and sometimes I want to go places far, far away. But, it is nice to feel this shift within me, to feel the peace of biking, to feel the friendship possible on a busy road.

2) “Gay bar” does not translate to an escape from patriarchy. In an adventurous excursion to Boystown with two male friends of mine, I was hoping to dance the night away void of groping hands and sexist comments. My friends and I began dancing to the techno grooves as best we could. Then, midway through a back bend move of mine I got a tap on my back. Next thing I knew, a man had grabbed my bag and ripped me away from my circle. He pulled me close to him and whispered, “I’m straight.” He then began gyrating against my body and said, “Let’s make them jealous.” At this I invented a creative spinny move out of his arms and politely said I would like to dance with my friends. I snuck back between them and managed to create the stereotypical gay bar dancing fantasy of most girls. But it was definitely tainted by knowing that not even at a gay bar was I immune from the ever-present chauvinism of men in dance clubs.

There are more realizations to tell, but I fear overloading my blog entries into indigestible rants. Therefore, I will stop here and allow for digestion. My job begins tomorrow. I can only hope I continue to think, learn, do, grow, and that I find the time and words to share these experiences.