Brooklyn and masks
Today during the welcome back meeting at our district I heard a neat phrase from a Health&Safety director. "I am very honored to stand here and see all the masked faces." He had a good sense of humor and many people laughed at his joke. Yes, the pandemic seems to have no end in sight and it helps to laugh to disperse those dark thoughts of the future. I'm sure by now we all have a story or two about masks since they've become part of our everyday lives. I remember an interesting one that happened a few months ago in Brooklyn.
It was mid-June, 2021. Many people have been vaccinated by this time, so they lifted the mask mandate in Pennsylvania and some other states. We are finally driving to Brooklyn with my husband. Both my husband and my mother-in-law are way too anxious over pandemic, so we haven't been back in a very long time. I really miss Brooklyn!
As we drive we stop at the rest station in New Jersey. Since I'm not sure what the mask situation is there, I put on my mask as I enter the building. When I see that most people are not wearing masks I relax and take mine off. We keep on driving and soon I see the the dear sight of Verrazano Bridge, one of my favorite places in Brooklyn.
We spend the evening inside the apartment of my mother-in-law catching up on conversations, pictures and so on. In the morning I wake up early while everybody else is still asleep. I need to be quick and make my escape. I have prepared most of my things the evening before. I do a few essential tasks, take a few more things that I haven't packed yet and, feeling a bit like Houdini, quietly and quickly leave the apartment before anyone awakens.
And only walking down the street to the bus stop I realize that I forgot something VERY important. I forgot my mask! For a moment I think about going back, but that is not an option. My mother-in-law usually wakes up early, and in that case I would have to answer 100 questions about where am I going, why do I need to go, how safe is that, and so on. So, I would have to do with what I have. And then, who knows? Both in PA and NJ masks are already optional, maybe they are optional here in Brooklyn as well. I decide to ask people at the bus stop.
There are a few people waiting for B1 when I get there. I ask addressing no one in particular: "Does anybody know if masks are required on the bus?" I get no response. An Asian-looking woman on my left is wearing an MTA uniform. I assume she drives a bus or a subway, so she should know. So, I ask again looking at her directly if she knows about masks. She answers something that sounds more Chinese than English. Maybe she doesn't speak English? Can you really be accepted for an MTA job if you don't speak English? I sure hope that's not the case. The woman probably just doesn't want to answer me.
Hearing my Russian accent a woman on my right starts speaking to me in Russian. She tells me yes, the masks are still required on the bus, even though they are optional in most other places in Brooklyn. She tells me a story how she witnessed a woman the other day enter a bus with a mask on, then go to the back of the bus and there pull the mask down to eat something. The driver saw it, stopped the bus, and threw the woman out of the bus. What a story!
It's interesting how notably different is the communication in Russian between the suburbs where I live and in Brooklyn. I deal with many Russian-speaking people back in PA. If I meet a new person who is Russian-speaking he or she may speak English to me at first if the conversation is in English and there are other English-speaking people around. And then later we may speak Russian when we are alone.
In Brooklyn, though, the language often serves as a secret passageway to communication. Like in this situation. When I asked for information in English no one bothered to answer me. I'm sure if I spoke Chinese or whatever language that MTA-dressed lady speaks she would gladly talk to me. And as soon as I was identified as belonging to the Russian-speaking club the Russian speaking woman very eagerly shared information with me. I wouldn't be surprised if she speaks English, but she just doesn't feel like speaking English to strangers. It's a very Brooklyn-like situation!
I better hurry up and find something to slap on my face, or else I will not be admitted on the bus! I rummage through my backpack and find a pink waist pack that I took with me just in case. That's perfect! It does resemble a mask. And just in time, the bus is already pulling to a stop. I put that pink pack on, turn my face down as much as I can, pour the coins to pay the fair and quickly go to the back of the bus.
Thanks goodness, the bus is is not packed with people. By the time I get to the back of the bus I can hardly breath through my unconventional mask. I want to pull it down, then remember the story that a Russian woman told me at the bus stop. I take out a book, hide my face behind it and then pull the bag down enough so I can breath. I look around to see if there are any spies who may want to report on me. Don't notice anybody.
Everything goes well and I get to Brighton Beach without any surprises. Finally I can pull down my pink muzzle and breath in air with my whole chest. I enjoy my time at the beach. The heat started so early this summer, there are tons of people at the beach. I see a very unusual Karate class. They practice right there, on the beach. First they ran around the beach, the teacher followed by students in their white uniform. Then they practice the actual Karate standing ankle deep in the water. What a fun way to practice!
On the way back I need to stop at some Russian stores to buy some Russian food. After my mask experience on the bus I wonder what the situations is like at the stores? No way am I putting on that pink muzzle again on my face! In the store window of almost all the Russian stores at Brighton you can see the warning that customers have to wear masks. However, there are hardly any masked people inside the stores. Brooklyn, good old Brooklyn!
Thanks goodness I don't have to take a bus on the way back. My husband picks me up and we drive back to Bensonhurst.
August, 2021
It was mid-June, 2021. Many people have been vaccinated by this time, so they lifted the mask mandate in Pennsylvania and some other states. We are finally driving to Brooklyn with my husband. Both my husband and my mother-in-law are way too anxious over pandemic, so we haven't been back in a very long time. I really miss Brooklyn!
As we drive we stop at the rest station in New Jersey. Since I'm not sure what the mask situation is there, I put on my mask as I enter the building. When I see that most people are not wearing masks I relax and take mine off. We keep on driving and soon I see the the dear sight of Verrazano Bridge, one of my favorite places in Brooklyn.
We spend the evening inside the apartment of my mother-in-law catching up on conversations, pictures and so on. In the morning I wake up early while everybody else is still asleep. I need to be quick and make my escape. I have prepared most of my things the evening before. I do a few essential tasks, take a few more things that I haven't packed yet and, feeling a bit like Houdini, quietly and quickly leave the apartment before anyone awakens.
And only walking down the street to the bus stop I realize that I forgot something VERY important. I forgot my mask! For a moment I think about going back, but that is not an option. My mother-in-law usually wakes up early, and in that case I would have to answer 100 questions about where am I going, why do I need to go, how safe is that, and so on. So, I would have to do with what I have. And then, who knows? Both in PA and NJ masks are already optional, maybe they are optional here in Brooklyn as well. I decide to ask people at the bus stop.
There are a few people waiting for B1 when I get there. I ask addressing no one in particular: "Does anybody know if masks are required on the bus?" I get no response. An Asian-looking woman on my left is wearing an MTA uniform. I assume she drives a bus or a subway, so she should know. So, I ask again looking at her directly if she knows about masks. She answers something that sounds more Chinese than English. Maybe she doesn't speak English? Can you really be accepted for an MTA job if you don't speak English? I sure hope that's not the case. The woman probably just doesn't want to answer me.
Hearing my Russian accent a woman on my right starts speaking to me in Russian. She tells me yes, the masks are still required on the bus, even though they are optional in most other places in Brooklyn. She tells me a story how she witnessed a woman the other day enter a bus with a mask on, then go to the back of the bus and there pull the mask down to eat something. The driver saw it, stopped the bus, and threw the woman out of the bus. What a story!
It's interesting how notably different is the communication in Russian between the suburbs where I live and in Brooklyn. I deal with many Russian-speaking people back in PA. If I meet a new person who is Russian-speaking he or she may speak English to me at first if the conversation is in English and there are other English-speaking people around. And then later we may speak Russian when we are alone.
In Brooklyn, though, the language often serves as a secret passageway to communication. Like in this situation. When I asked for information in English no one bothered to answer me. I'm sure if I spoke Chinese or whatever language that MTA-dressed lady speaks she would gladly talk to me. And as soon as I was identified as belonging to the Russian-speaking club the Russian speaking woman very eagerly shared information with me. I wouldn't be surprised if she speaks English, but she just doesn't feel like speaking English to strangers. It's a very Brooklyn-like situation!
I better hurry up and find something to slap on my face, or else I will not be admitted on the bus! I rummage through my backpack and find a pink waist pack that I took with me just in case. That's perfect! It does resemble a mask. And just in time, the bus is already pulling to a stop. I put that pink pack on, turn my face down as much as I can, pour the coins to pay the fair and quickly go to the back of the bus.
Thanks goodness, the bus is is not packed with people. By the time I get to the back of the bus I can hardly breath through my unconventional mask. I want to pull it down, then remember the story that a Russian woman told me at the bus stop. I take out a book, hide my face behind it and then pull the bag down enough so I can breath. I look around to see if there are any spies who may want to report on me. Don't notice anybody.
Everything goes well and I get to Brighton Beach without any surprises. Finally I can pull down my pink muzzle and breath in air with my whole chest. I enjoy my time at the beach. The heat started so early this summer, there are tons of people at the beach. I see a very unusual Karate class. They practice right there, on the beach. First they ran around the beach, the teacher followed by students in their white uniform. Then they practice the actual Karate standing ankle deep in the water. What a fun way to practice!
On the way back I need to stop at some Russian stores to buy some Russian food. After my mask experience on the bus I wonder what the situations is like at the stores? No way am I putting on that pink muzzle again on my face! In the store window of almost all the Russian stores at Brighton you can see the warning that customers have to wear masks. However, there are hardly any masked people inside the stores. Brooklyn, good old Brooklyn!
Thanks goodness I don't have to take a bus on the way back. My husband picks me up and we drive back to Bensonhurst.
August, 2021