New York

When flying back to Germany, I was just happily anticipating the tour, now I'm nervous again. Back to Boston for another night, fetching my stuff, then I'm on the Greyhound to New York. The Greyhound...another thing ticked off!

Even though I wasn't thinking about it at all beforehand, and I had been in the city before, as soon as I stepped off the bus it hit me. New York! I don't know what it is. It's nothing you can see or hear or taste, not some beauty of the city or some particular things to do. But...there's something in the air, a sense of “This is New York! THINGS are happening here!”, whatever these things are. It's a sense of excitement. Had a long chat with a bus driver. She laughed at that, said “Yes, mostly crazy things happening here.”

I know. Pathetically touristy. I admit to it.



Some appropriate dinner.

Short Farewell to Boston and Someone Else

My beloved aunt Gertrud.

January 6^th, 1930 – April 22^nd, 2013

May you be held in God's hand.

Booked a flight back to Germany for a day to attend her funeral. It was sad, but also very beautiful to say farewell. And being there for my family, especially my dad. In a way, these things can also be very beautiful, because they are very real.


“Well, Gertrud, now we drive to you, and walk one last time with you.” Dad

DMV

"You must fill out form A38 if you want
to register a vehicle here."

Today I learned that there is no way for me to register a vehicle in Massachusetts as someone without proof of residence. I knew it wouldn't go without some friction, but I didn't think that there was absolutely no way around it. Maybe that was too much spontaneity. Not much of a problem, however. The first part of the tour is supposed to have a historical character, and Boston had to be in that, anyway. I am enjoying my time here and seeing some great historical landmarks.

But at some point I'll need a bike, so let's go to New York. According to my internet research they don't have a residency requirement. You might ask “Chris, didn't you prepare your trip?” Well, I admit that I didn't get into all the formal details on the different DMV pages for the individual states, but I did my research, I looked up what I need in terms of registration and insurance, the requirements of insurance and title of ownership / manufacturer's certificate of origin for registration, checked with the internet pages of the German and American automobile clubs and the American embassy, I spoke to people who did it before, but apparently I still underestimated the bureaucracy of American local government... ...OK, I didn't prepare too well.

Still, it's baffling how some things are done over here. Just take the fact that there is no central registry of citizens and their residence, so everything works on a rather sketchy workaround basis. In order to prove your residency, there is a host of different documents, ranging from a rental contract to utility bills to a drivers license and even a damn postmarked letter or supermarket check cashing card. These documents are then weighted with a point value, and you need to bring enough documents to reach a certain threshold above which you are considered a resident of that place. It works the same for proving your identity. And then add in the fact that its different in every of the fifty states. Phew!

Boston Freedom Trail

"I also like having Chris sitting at my
feet. He has an atmosphere entirely of his
own, removed from the rest of the world,
separated from reason, though
not quite full of peace."

Folks in America (or at least here in the metropolitan, northeastern part I've seen so far) seem very open towards others. I was approached by several people today, got business cards in case I need help with the motorcycle, even got invited to a dinner snack by a very friendly woman who gave me a lot of tips for my tour and established contact to one of her friends who has some experience with motorcycle tours in the US.

I started the day by again sitting at that place at the foot of Franklin's statue. I really enjoy that space. It has an atmosphere entirely of its own, removed from the rest of the city, separated from hectic business, and full of peace.

Then I did the Boston Freedom Trail. Not the “Historical Walk of Boston”, or the “Tour of Important Landmarks”, but the “FREEDOM Trail.” I need getting used to that. It's very interesting, though, to imagine what life was like at the time in that little colonial settlement, if that is actually possible for us, considering our modern background. I sometimes forget what a small nation the US had been at that time (or rather colony, since it wasn't even a nation, yet), and how makeshift these colonial settlements had been, how rough life was.



Ah, the good stuff!
Makes for a nice cuppa.

I somehow felt a bit irritated when visiting historical places, and at first I really couldn't place it. But now I think it is the fact that these places once where the theater of important events, stage to occurrences that changed the course of history, and now they are “just” silent witnesses of a long bygone era, with no function anymore except as carriers of memory, telling stories and yet being mute. They are sights that are visited by people in stupid hats and cameras hanging around their bellies, at best reading some superficial “historical” account of what had happened here and dragging along their bored kids (not that I am doing anything different, except for the kids part). Maybe that sentiment is just an expression of some inner desire for experiencing some important events, not really valuing the “banal” everyday life we enjoy in the rich parts of the world; on the other hand this life is probably just what those that actually suffered through these important "events" would have desired. After all they not just consisted of declaring independence, crafting a constitution and having expensive tea parties in Boston, but were followed by war and chaos.



The Old State House, where among other
things the revolution was debated and the
Declaration of Independence first read
to Bostonians.

And what do they build into it? Not just a
museum, which is appropriate, but a good
part of the ground level is devoted to the
entrance to a subway station.

Boston Ballgame



Red Sox fan (guess who...)

When walking past Fenway Park, I noticed that apparently a ballgame was set for today, and when checking the ticket office, I found out it was about to start in roughly two hours. Well, I've got nothing special to do, and it sounds like fun. Let's go! Many scalpers around here...I wonder whether very shortly before the game you can actually get a good price. But I thought I'd better go to Gate 4, where game-day tickets are sold. There at least I could see where the seat I'd buy a ticket for is going to be. There wasn't much of a queue, even though the game was more or less sold out. And indeed I got a great ticket for a bargain.

Get some stuff, get some food, get stuffed with the food, and watch the game!

I gotta say, I like Fenway Park. The whole atmosphere of the place, and it being such an old stadium. It just had its 100th anniversary!

Before the game started, however, there suddenly was Jeff Buckley's version of “Hallelujah” playing, and a very emotional ceremony started, remembering the victims of the Boston bombing and honoring the first responders, police and courageous civilian helpers. The whole group of coordinators familiar from TV news was there giving short speeches, from the governor of Massachusetts and Boston's mayor, to the police chief, FBI officer, etc. The whole stadium sang “God bless America” and the national anthem, and the stadium speaker moderated through the ceremony.



Downloaded from somewhere.

I am not quite sure what think of it all, though. On the one hand it is very emotional, gives attention and remembrance to the victims and the helpers. I myself was gripped and touched by it, and I enjoyed it. But on the other hand it also gets ever more ardent, to the point where it has the feel of some kind of mass hysteria / brain wash, especially when all of a sudden people start chanting “USA! USA!” completely out of context. Then it feels kind of weird to me. But that also might be just my perspective, since I am a bit short on patriotism anyway, and I'm from Germany, which for some understandable reasons is especially sensitive and tempered in this regard. When the soccer world cup was held in Germany in 2006, for example, newspapers where full of articles about people suddenly showing and wearing German flags, since that was something unheard of in the decades before.



"This is our fuckin' city, and nobody is gonna
dictate our freedom. Stay strong!"
- Big Papi showing some attitude

But this ceremony in Fenway Park seemed to have a healing effect on people, helping them letting out all these emotions and grapple with events, and that's probably already justification enough, no matter what it looks like to outsiders. Not that it needs justification, anyway.

Still I don't know what to think of it.

1st Day in Boston

First day in Boston, probably best spent walking. I really enjoyed sitting at the foot of Ben Franklin's statue on the old grounds of Boston Public Latin School. The place was very quiet, I listened to the birds and rustling leaves, feeling the wind and the sun. Still I felt like I wasn't quite here, on my trip in the US. Then again, that might be expected too much. Can you actually feel where you are? Nonetheless, I was feeling a bit introverted. But after opening up mentally, I was feeling like being here, in Boston, in America, and felt free to go on. Anyway, really enjoyed it, thought “I like Boston.”

Then I started walking and found myself wondering why everything was closed. That was when some guard at a shuttered supermarket told me they had shut down Boston for the manhunt. They shut down an entire city! Wouldn't happen over in old Europe, I guess. I kept on walking for more or less the whole afternoon. Again I was looking for a place for the next night (reminiscences of London here). Later in the evening I learned that there even was a suggested curfew, though not a mandatory one, in order to prevent the guy on the run from mingling in a crowd, and thus helping police in their search. Apparently I had walked through Boston for five hours during a manhunt for an armed terrorist. Congratulations, Chris! Really smart.

Sounds more of a big deal than it really is, however. There still were a lot of people walking about, even though not as many as there usually are. Many where doing some sightseeing along the Boston Freedom Trail, as for some time was I. I don't know if like me they hadn't heard of the curfew, or they simply didn't care. All in all, it felt like a normal day, just a bit more quiet and a larger police and military presence on the street.

Arrival

Now it's starting. I can't quite believe myself that I am actually here, doing this. A little more than half a year ago I thought I would never ride a motorcycle, given the danger and all that. And now I'm here in Boston, having recently gotten my motorcycle license and starting my tour.
And of course, strange experiences. At the airport, I was taken aside for some extra interrogation (thankfully not enhanced interrogation). Just what you need after 15 hours of airport stuff and flights.

“Hi”

“Why are you coming to the US?”

“I wanna travel for a few months.”

“Why so long?”

“I wanna do a motorcycle tour.”

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Fill out your forms, they're incomplete. Next.”

“What's missing?”

“NEXT!!!”

5 mins later...

“Do you wanna work in the US?”

“No.”

“How are you gonna support yourself?”

“I've got some savings from...”

Grabs his Walkie Talkie “Please send up an escort!”

Then I was taken to some other room where many people were waiting, spent about half an hour there, and was interrogated once more by someone who at least came pretty close to respecting the social conventions for proper conversation.

Sigh. US Customs and Border Protection as I remember them.

Now I'm here in Boston, quite nervous, pulse at rest of just over 100, and feeling a bit lost. In sum: exactly right for the beginning of an adventure!