The Grand Canyon Comes to Life

The Grand Canyon was beautiful, breathtaking, benevolent, sacred and a collection of about a million other adjectives that I could use to describe its beauty. It’s as if God took a brush and painted one of the most beautiful and intense canvases that can neither be captured in any camera or any post card. You can’t help but put your faith back in the Supreme Being who created something so precious and beautiful. Untouched and untarnished by the vulgar habit of humans to commercialize every inch of mother earth.

As I ran/walked the morning of our second day with Caroline Casey, and took a walk with Tiffany O’Neal over a path on the afternoon of our third day there, that’s all I could think about. Time has come to stand still in the aging rocks of the Grand Canyon. I wonder what atrocities the underbrush has witnessed. I wonder how much history has been archived in the walls of the Canyon. What stories the Hopi Indian tribes may have shared there or the pain and joy that John Wesley Powell, the one-armed explorer who braved the rivers and valleys of the great canyon and made the basis for much of the documentation that is followed even now.

Despite the fact that there was such immense beauty all around us, it did seem a bit surprising that there was such limited connectivity for cell phone reception or internet out there. The hotel that we were staying at, provided the equivalent of a slowspeed, dial up connection that worked only when it was fed two dollar bills for a duration of 8 minutes. Sharlene, Roberto and Bulent were all those who suffered from money-gone-no-service syndrome when the browser refused to spit out ay data after receiving what it referred to as the “generous contribution” from each of them.

Here’s a piece of advise of people who consider the internet to be part of their lifelines into the real world – take a satellite phone with you or invest in some kind of communication peripherals that will allow you to have two-way communication. Even those little walkie-talkies would do.

Headline: Stubborn Women on Ice

I'm grateful for each day that I am here. I am so grateful for a wonderful family, great friends and extraordinary opportunities. I am eternally thankful for being with people who are passionate about what the change they want to bring about in their communities to learn and be continually inspired by each of their struggles and lives. I am so thankful for finally having had the chance to experience my first snowfall. Yes. Most definately thankful for so much. What I thought I would never be grateful for would be for sore feet and a bruised fanny (is that even a word is this day and age!!?) - Here's the scoop on that -

As we made out way down to the Central Park, Casey and I got started chatting on a number of things up until the time we both found ourselves infront of a white mirage: the Trump Ice Rink. One would imagine you need a sense of adventure and a great deal of body cushion (both of which I have in large quantities) to follow Casey down her mad craving for adventure on the Ice. Could I just let her make fun of me and not follow her?! Under normal circumstances when I wouldn't be suffering from Brainfreeze in New York's cold spring weather, I'm sure I could handle all the poking possible, but since the part of my brain that would normally make the critical practical decision of "no - can't do therefore shouldn't do" wasn't functioning, I did. Yes. I lept.

I've never been on the ice. Never. I thought about it may times, but you have to remember that I live in Karachi, Pakistan where the closest you'll get to weather like this is if you decided to sit in the freezer. So yes, you guessed it - I was down in the first 5 minutes of my first steps in the rink. But Casey was determined. Funny how her determination found itself in the soles of my feet and I actually made my way around the rink hanging onto Casey's hand and relying on her to guide me through.

Round one. No fall. Round two. Boom! Forward momentum, Forward momentum and boom. "The trick is to keep your feet just slightly apart and make sure you lean forward" says Casey. I could have sworn that I was in the shooting of a film about dedication and overcoming the most severe challenge on earth, and though I wasn't ready to give up, I had Casey to hang onto. And so we went onto finish Round 2 with only one fall and then laughs and says, "Okay - You're doing great. Now I'm going to let go of you and you're going to get around this on your own" -

And so with Casey on my side, I take off.. Round 3. As much as I would like to imagine this to be the most courageous thing I have ever done, it was really nothing that heroic. And I fell.... more than once. But it was strange - This Casey woman, who I met just 2 weeks ago and actually only spoke to yesterday on the train, was there to help me up everytime. With her words of encouragement, and mastering the ability to brake, I did it. I went around with Casey determined not to pull me up.

Now that I sit and think back to the hour that I was there at the rink, I feel full of life and more adventure, happy that I tried something I otherwise never thought I would do. But that hour was quite a bit more than just a ice skating adventure. It was an hour where I was able to remind myself about something so important: there is more than just simple humanity all around us. We developed wonderful friends who give us the push (or in this case, the shove) needed to experience something and expand life as you know it. And most importantly, no matter how many times you fall, there will always be a hand to help you up and give you that subtle guidance until you get back on your feet.

Casey? Thank you!

Subway trains XYZ, GOFO GSAT HOBO and PQRST (FEE FI FO FUM!)

What better way to experience New York than just to go ahead and jump into the system. Not walk. Definitely not tip toe. Jump. I am careful not to use the word “leap” since that is usually directional and Casey and my jump into the system was not necessarily in any specific direction.

To be quite honest, we were going in no particular direction, to no particular destination with no specific route in mind. I would imagine if our route was that flexible, we could never actually get lost. Huh!

So first things first – Buy yourself a metro card for $10 rather than going in for a single ride – if you’re going to spend a few days in New York and don’t want to get run over by mad cab drivers, it’s probably a good idea to stick to the underground. Well.. kind of a good idea. Okay – it’s an idea, and here’s why – If you don’t spend a few minutes trying to read the metro map, you will only use, re-use and keep using the card until you run out of a few dollars before you actually SIT on the subway. Yes. We say this from experience. *giggles

The hotel usually provides you with a street and subway map (or you can always ask V at the UN Plaza hotel – He’ll whip one up for you..) The subway information booths can usually part with a metro map which is even more complicated than the street map, but could help. Please do take the time to notice the look on the information providers face before you grab the map and run. It makes Britney Spears look like a hyperactive toy (wait.. isn't she that anyway!?)

Okay – Now here’s how we get around in the underground world and I’m not making this up – There are ‘123 lines’ which are red; blue ACE lines; Yellow NRQW lines, Green 456 trains, Mustard BDFV trains; Brown JMV lines, the magenta 7 train and the lonely S or L train. I have no clue what these numbers or letters stand for, but you can imagine the fright Casey and I had whilst trying to deal with impaired sight and mental retardation whilst trying to figure out what the damn routes were. I can safely say that we were today’s Short and Tall crew for the underground – If you see two people whipping out maps and stopping at every corner (up and down several blocks at a time), on the news, you’ll know that to be us.

We chose what was supposed to be the most complicated way to travel from 42nd street and Avenue of the Americas, down to the trendy and chique Greenwich Village. And the route was just so darn confusing, we got there without realizing that we had reached! How’s that for knowing where we were?!

For your information, UN Plaza and the Bronx is UPTOWN which is where I got further confused and made us use our metro cards twice over. I think this one exploratory trip into the underground of New York probably cost us about 6 dollars since it costs about 2 quid a trip.

But we made it back home, despite the fact that Casey flew here and I panted on four legs right behind her. You can tell she is the taller one from the both of us. ☺

New York is only New York in certain streets and you haven’t landed in New York until you block someone’s speed travel on the street and have them yell back at you. 5th Avenue upwards is life on the edge – you stand too close to the edge of that sidewalk and you shall be whisked away.

More from Shorty later on!

Hello Caroline? Am I there?

The joke could be no bigger and the irony could be no less obvious. But before I go onto write about the queer title, here's a bit of background -

Rizwana and Caroline both had very busy schedules today, yet needed a bit of technical assistance in buying some computer paraphranelia. Because I had a free morning, I offered to run out to Radio Shack before my 2pm meeting, and get their stuff for them. I went to Radio Shack on 18th street (take the Metro to Farragut West, exit Metro and take a right) and drooled some at the site of the gadget Mecca.. It's always amazing how many treasures these little stores have packed into them.. Anyways, getting back to the story -

I make my evening rounds and give Rizwana the one-two guide on using her stuff and take Caroline's webcam upto her room to install it for her and make sure its working.... After a fun chat with her on how heavy the work burden on our little shoulders are, I walked back to my room and I thought my evening would end there.

I consider myself a careful person.. I carry a huge napsack everywhere because I keep all kinds of cables and accessories with me - who knows what curve balls situations can throw at you. But when I sat down to write a thought-provoking blog about a photograph I snapped with my phone-camera during my run to the Arlington Cemetary today, I couldn't find my phone. Please understand that my work is dependent on people who live in my phone. So I went through my suitcase, opened the safe, went back to the kitchen, ruffled up my bed, looked under the table, went through my napsack (again) until I realized that I should just call myself from the room phone. Simple enough? I think not!

The hotel hadn't activated my call facilities and so I called the front desk and requested them to give my phone a call.. And that's when, yes you guessed it, Caroline answered the phone and told them where she had found the darn thing sitting in her room..

Moral of the story here? No matter how great the distance between Ireland and Pakistan, I won't be able to talk to Caroline if I leave my phone in her room. Huh...