I don't know yet that I would ascribe titles like Bostonian or Bostonite upon myself anytime soon. I am through and through a New Yorker, and inefficiencies--such as people taking up too much room as they walk on the sidewalk--as well as deficiencies--the T closing at midnight--drive me nuts. That being said, I find myself continuing to enjoy this little place they call Boston.
First, a note about the title: dialogics. Comes from a dude named Mikhail Bakhtin, who--even though he's dead--has yet to master writing sentences shorter than one paragraph. To distill his thoughts grossly, it's the idea that there are multiple voices and languages functioning concurrently, and some bit about heteroglossia. Blahbiddy blah blah bullshite.
My first impression of this city is that it is quaint, in a non-condescending sort of way. Neighborhoods which were so clearly delineated in maps all seem to bleed into each other, and within the same ten minute walk you traverse 3 neighbohoords, e.g., from South Station to Chinatown to Beacon Hill.
All of the non-academic people here (read: blue-collar) look Irish. So far, I'm the darkest person I've seen in this city.
Boston is also expensive, in a way that even I--as a New Yorker--am shocked to see. Red apples are more than two dollars a pound. Watermelon--whole--fetches 89 cents a pound (you can get organic watermelon--sliced--for almost half that amount). Regular yellow onions fetch ONE DOLLAR SEVENTY-NINE CENTS a freakin pound. We're talking non-organic, non-gourmet, regular old supermarket. Back in Brooklyn, you could knock a dollar off of those prices.
I continue to be baffled by the T, or the trolley/subway system for the MBTA. In the above-ground stations (which is where I am, at St. Mary's St), all of the doors open. Yet the conductors are only at the front of the cars. How do they dissuade people from sneaking on in the back to avoid paying the fare? When do you ring for your stop, and when does the T just make each and every stop? How do people know where the station stops are, when many times they are just arbitrary spots on the side of the tracks, with no platform or signage or shelter structure?
Many more insights to come, but just some initial impressions.
Annie--buena suerte for getting through your first day! I thought the Latinos in NYC all assumed everyone around them knows Spanish--I can only imagine what it must be like down in Miami. Once you look up from all of your soon-to-be-unpacked boxes, however, I'm sure you'll get to get out there and discover all of the glories of the city: Cuban sandwiches, salsa dancing, bottled blondes salsa dancing, Spandex... it's going to be great!
love,
Patty
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So in my day, the green line was free if you were getting on at certain points out in trolley-land. Don't know if that's true anymore but it might explain why all the doors open. It also used to only take coins except if you folded up a dollar bill into a tiny little square, there was this tiny little space you could shove it into in the coin collector machine. Yeah, Boston makes no sense at all. The red line is really far more civilized and normal by the way. Glad to hear you ladies are settling in to your respective abodes for the year. Keep the updates coming. And of course, check out www.landibadeau.com for my own musings!
haha, red apples "fetch" 89 cents... Very Dickensian of you.
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