Outdoor Voices

It was the most beautiful intermission mid - apocalypse. While the evil overlords of the world had taken a bathroom break, society took the opportunity to celebrate their freedom, mid - Corona Virus.

Smooth jazz tunes filled the air, over the commentaries of Shake Shack fries 'not being that good' and the latest verses of Young Thug casually strolling by.

Pen to paper I sit in Tompkins Park and soak up the beautiful Saturday afternoon.

The gentle afternoon breeze carried the silent buzz of gratefulness and good weed, and even without the contact high, you could feel everyone's gratitude to be alive.

This must have been what Woodstock was like.

Kinda.

Amidst the civil unrest and Black Lives Matter protests, I felt like I mattered.

There was harmony. The crowds that lined the benches and casually sunbathed on the lawn were an event in and of themselves. Indeed, it was historic, as the first weekend of New York's re-opening post Corona Virus.

I sat, cautiously optimistic on a bench. The smooth jazz band graciously filled the air, serenading their audiences mid-stride, post suntan lotion and sandwiches and half semi circular - each-end-of-the-bench-subconsciously-stated-each-person, birds flying high, Maya Angelou, head tilted back [eyes gazing] mid foliage mesmer, shades of green speckling my face, thoughts resting on soft murmurs as sunlight danced and carried away bits of fairy and dust of blue. Along came Arapana.

But I didn't know her yet.

She smiles and asks if it's ok for her to sit so dangerously close to my person. Three feet away I smile and say 'sure, no problem.' She asks how I'm doing. I say great. She says staying indoors was starting to get to her, you know, as she grew tired of staying safe and now only wanted to stay sane.

I say I totally get you.

And I do, no pretense.

She says, "I hope you don't mind me eating," removes her mask and reveals the most beautiful soul I spirit remembered in a while. I could already tell that this was about to be special. I couldn't pull my stare away from her long iron hammered earrings; ingenious eagle sterling necklace and indegenious Napalese inspired cuff.

She was fluent in chopsticks.

I was fluent in social anxiety.

Her soul was intriguing.

She put my soul at ease.

She made me feel as if my rusty people skills pre- Corona were just a figment of my imagination. And, soul at ease, I was already into a conversation.

Me.

"Originally, I'm from Jamaica, but I've been here since the age of nineteen," I answered.

"You? Do you live around here?"

"I live in Union Square, the part where they have the looting because of the protests."

"Can you see the protests from your window?" - wide-eyed, black me.

"No, but all my friends are getting on me because I don't protest. I'm like dude, I'm here on a green card, I protest and get locked up that would be on my record and I could get deported to my country."

I never thought of that.

"I tell them that they didn't care about anybody's life or about the protests before in the beginning. They see the ads twenty times and they care because they're being told to care."

"You sure, I could have sworn I sensed the vibrational consciousness of the planet raising."

"I say you are being told to care because you see the ad in your face in the media twenty times. Do you really care about our lives? Nobody cares about who dies in Nepal, do they care about who dies in Jamaica?"

Preach.

"The cost of living in Nepal is ridiculous. Did you know that owning a car there costs 300% more than here? So if it costs a dollar here, it costs...three dollars there, right, my math is right, right?"

Yes, because I was gonna say $300.

" I see some of my friends owning three cars and I'm like, you must have taken a bribe. Like, what does my family have to do to get a car? Where did my parents go wrong?"

I am hollering.

"I mean bribery and transport or honesty and walk." I warned you about my social awkwardness.

She didn't seem to care.

"I mean they do bribes and those things in Jamaica, right?"

Ha.

Yes, they do.

"I mean, we are from the third world, nobody expects anything from us, but we have the most to lose. They don't understand, they think they understand, but they don't get it. I've always wanted to go to Jamaica. Do you feel as if you fit in here?"

You know what, no, but I do feel more integrated.

"I would enjoy the fresh fish, by the beach ..."

At this, she stared off with the most amusing ferwehnian expression I have ever seen.

She was so herself, I started laughing.

It was so endearing to meet someone so themselves. But again, things had changed. Most people no longer cared about pretenses. A little girl rode a scooter with wild abandon past us. Everyone wasn't trying to be like everyone else. Everyone was now their best self. Collective authenticity felt good.

Arapanah had to go.

She wished me all the best in my endeavours. And, with a heavy heart, wishing her all the best in her acting career, I did the same.

Adieu.

Amidst everything, I desperately needed a friend and I was blessed with the most intriguing person for twenty minutes.

The birds flew by.

I forgot to tell her that I wanted to learn French.