All about the money...

For a country so dedicated to the pursuit of dosh, it seems to me incomprehensible that Americans have such poor aesthetic taste when it comes to the design of their currency. The US "Greenback" seen in a thousand gangster movies, might well be iconic but it is also illogical and hard to understand - and not just for the jet-lagged foreign visitor.

Notes are all similarly sized and share ugly gray and olive green colours which makes them tricky to differentiate from one another. The unfamiliar foreigner often runs the risk of picking up the wrong note when searching through a fresh wad from the Bureau de Change and trying to pay for their service, a British friend once left $100 at a restaurant rather than the Ten Dollar tip he intended. Also, though I'm no expert on counterfeitting, but American notes don't seem to have much in the way of security features and could surely be copied more easily than Pounds or Euros. US Monopoply-board money also has an annoying tendency to stick together: I once gave away two twenty dollar notes for a hot dog in Little Italy, my protestations for the correct change were unproductive. It's not only the notes that don't make sense: the nickel coin (five cents) is actually - bizarrely - bigger than dime (ten cents).

Okay, after a while you do start adjusting to these things: you get to differentiate between the Founding Father designs of the notes and realise that the dime is differentiated from the nickel as it's a little bit shinier, but it does seem unecessary. For a country that built itself of on its rationality and logic it does seem, well, irrational and illogical. Maybe they could take a leaf out of the British book with our nice multi-sized and colourful currency.

The other interesting thing is the American reliance on the One Dollar Note. The BoE decided that it wasn't worth printing a Pound note back in 1988 but yet the US reliance on the single dollar note, currently worth about 60p, is retained. Why? Maybe it is because it is easier for bar staff who earn a dollar a drink served in their tip money (as is custom here)? Maybe the extra paper money gives a comforting illusion of wealth? Maybe no politician has the cojones to abolish a note with George Washington on it? I don't know.

The other thing worth mentioning here is the American Automatic Telling Machine (they don't talk about Cash Machines or The "Hole in the Wall". The experience of dispensing our cash costs Americans a lot more than us Brits. Almost all charge, unless you belong to a specific bank. The typical fee is about $1.50 to $3 in NYC whilst we only pay for the really rubbish ones in Cost Cutter when we are really desperate. On the flip side, there do seem to be more ATMs to find in NYC and the ones owned by the banks offer a few extra things, including info on your recent transactions. That said, I always shake the cover of any shifty-looking ATM I use, in case it has a card-cloning cover after my card got copied in London last Summer, and had £100 stolen by some guy in Kuala Lumpur.

Couch Surfing USA

“Oh my GOD!!! You’re staying with a total stranger, is that safe?!?”:
so was my Manhattan co-worker’s reaction when I explained that on a weekend trip away from the city, I would be couch surfing.

What is it?

Couchsurfing is a free web-based hospitality service that connects “surfers” with potential hosts who are willing to offer a place for strangers to sleep, for free. Following the recommendation of an enthusiastic friend, I am a recent convert to the World of Couch Surfing, and have now used it to stay overnight in Montreal and Virginia and plan to do it later in the Summer when I do more travelling. Couchsurfing is open to any one, anywhere and currently has a global membership of over a million and is probably the greatest thing on the internet (following the sinking of PirateBay.org!)

How does it work?

To join, members are required to set up a personal profile, including details of their hobbies and interests, information on their travel experience and a photo. Profiles are then authorised by other members to prove their legitimacy. The better the profile and the more complete it is, the more likely potential hosts are to accept requests of somewhere to stay. Members then use the service to send messages to other people in the CouchSurfing network and basically ask if they can stay with them. Members are typically most inclined to accept requests for a Couch to sleep on from people who tailor a personal message explaining why they would like to stay. Members can search hosts by city (eg “Boston”). No one is obliged to host, though they are encouraged to. The obvious advantage to MB interns is - of course - that it is free and therefore provides us a goods means for saving an extra part of our lavish salary, when we go around exploring the US. However, it is also a great cultural experience. In practical terms, it means that when arriving in a new place couchsurfers can immediately get to meet locals and quickly get useful local knowledge. The CS experience does not finish with a good night’s kip. Members also set up a range of services and events for other members. For example, they often offer rideshares to those travelling between cities and organise gatherings such as - for the NY Group, over recent weeks – movie-watching in Bryant Park, a Thursday-night bar outing and Sunday morning Dim Sum in China Town.

What’s the catch, why did no one think of this before?

Nowt. It took humanity a fair while to evolve far enough to invent the Internet – after all - and now it is merely a case of making the most of it. For Couchsurfing to happen, it requires a small leap of faith on the part of the host and potential guest. It rests on the optimistic and oft-doubted assumption of the innate altruism and generosity of people toward random strangers. Funnily enough, it works.

Inauguration Day 1/20/2009

Weeks later, I’m still finding it a little tricky re-adjusting to a world without George Bush. I am a bit of a skeptic when it comes to Obama: not about his competence or (generally speaking) his political platform, but of the inflated hype surrounding him. The man is clearly no Messiah and - whilst a vast improvement - I am sceptical of the many Americans who seem to think he will quickly offer an elixir for the profound problems created by his predecessor.

Nonetheless, his inauguration was still a unique event and acting on a whim and the promise of a space on a DC-friend’s bedroom floor – at the sacrifice of one of my ten precious Mountbatten holiday days - I decided to follow the crowd of 3-4 million and head to Capitol City.

After taking a lift with MVP Chinatown Bus, I was in DC / Viriginia area for three nights, arriving on Saturday afternoon. The city was packed, the whole weekend. I saw a bit of the concert on Sunday at the Lincoln memorial (including Springsteen, Stevie Wonder, Tiger Woods, Beyonce etc) from the distance, but most of the actual weekend was spent on non-Obama related activities (except trying to negotiate a route around police road blocks and through the huge crowds).

On Monday, I got on to the DC subway system at about 7.30, by which time it was packed. It turned out very well that I was only a few stops from the end of the Red Line commuter route, as it meant there was a little (emphasis on a little) space to squeeze in to the carriage. After avoiding suffocation and arriving at the Metro Center stop, I spent about an hour and a half working out a way to get on to The Mall itself, around the throng. People were making the choice of queuing for hours to go through the security check for the post-inaugural parade, or to watch the swearing in ceremony itself, but i worked out a way of getting to the latter after walking a long way around the White House (bumping in to CNN's Anderson Cooper en route).

I managed to find a place right by the Washington Monument and then braced myself for standing for three hours in a biting cold wind. I could have got a bit closer I think, but because the monument was on a high point, we had a good view of the capitol (albeit nearly a mile away). I would have actually needed the Hubble Telescope to see Obama himself. However, we had big TV screens so the action was relayed to us. The sound quality was fairly good, though the two speakers closest to us were about 3 seconds out of sync, so it was a bit hard to follow at times. Beyond that, I'm sure those of you watching on your computer screens at work, probably got just as good a view of proceedings as they happened.

The best moment (in my irreverent opinion - I've heard some Americans since saying this was distasteful, they're more deferential to their politicians) was Bush's arrival on stage, which was greeted by 4 million people booing - it felt like the ground was shaking. As we were leaving later on after the ceremony, there was a big cheer and wave as his helicopter flew over us toward Maryland and a Texas-bound jet.

There were the usual "Obaama-Obaama" chants, which along with the T-Shirts seem indicative a bit of a cult of personality and I find slightly OTT. However, I guess his personality is preferable to most political alternatives, so it's hard to complain exactly.

There was a great buzz at the point of the various Oaths. I think most people in the crowd weren't particularly interested in Biden, but - I couldn't help feeling that getting rid of Cheney was the most important thing – the personification of Republican malevolence finally gone!
Though the view was restricted even more than usual by a horizon of phone cameras in the air, I just about could see the stage as Obama was declared president, so in case I am ever asked, I can say that “I was there”.

I started working through the crowd as soon as Obama finished. It took an hour to get from grass to concrete but luckily managed to get to my bus stop in time to get a (earlier than booked) 2.30 bus back to NYC.

Crowds of that size are obviously a bit overwhelming in some ways. Completely different scale to any football match / post-concert crowd I have been to. The only thing that I have seen like it would be the 2003 protests against the War. Similar kind of sentiments on both occasions I suppose but a very different 'vibe'. Hard to believe how much has happened in a relatively short time period in between. I guess we will have to wait to find out what the next four to eight years will bring.

In many ways the day was only symbolic: The transition from the Bush to Obama era had taken place over many months as President # 43’s popularity gradually ebbed. DC and the world beyond it did not suddenly “change” around Noon of that day.

Nonetheless, vague historical periods demand tangible measuring points so that an era can be comprehended retrospectively. Correctly or not, 20^th January will inevitably be one of those key measuring posts for our era. So, for vanity - at the very least - I feel lucky to say that “I was there”.

An Amish Paradise

When explaining to New Yorkers that I was planning to visit Lancaster County for Thanksgiving Day weekend, I quickly got a sense of the conspicuous fame of this quiet corner of rural Pennsylvania. Three hours drive from NYC, the area around Lancaster City offers a fairly typical offering of small-town American life: quiet, spacious, ethnically (predominantly) white, church-abundant, moderately conservative and Republican voting, picket fenced, agriculturally rich, but with a twist. Lancaster is famous throughout the world - and particularly amongst the thousands of visiting US School children and tour groups - as the location of the largest Amish population in the country.

This was one of several things that persuaded me to join a group of about 40 international students – including 6 other Mountbatten interns - who traveled down to the area from Manhattan, at the end of November. Since arriving in the city, I had much about the notion of "two Americas" and the supposed cultural divide between New York and the other – "real" – America. I was keen to find out more for myself, particularly so as to properly celebrate "Thanksgiving" – that celebration of wholesome American values and a good diet. Fearing rickets, I also saw it as a good opportunity to get out of the shadow of New York’s large Avenues and lack of natural light and get some natural rural daylight!

Our trip was arranged by an organisation called One to World who run cross-cultural events in the New York area throughout the year. We only paid the price of our travel costs and gave our guests gifts from our home countries, in return for their remarkable generosity. Students can visit one-to-world.org for details of their other events.

We arrived in Lancaster County late in the morning of Thanksgiving Day Thursday. Every member of our group was allocated a local host family. I stayed with a couple called Don and Gayle who lived in a small town within the county called Lititz and had been participating in the cultural exchange program for about ten years through their local church. Their street really resembles Springfield’s Evergreen Terrace: the streets are wide, the gardens large and you would struggle to throw your door mat as far as your Mail Box located far down the driveway.

After arriving, I assisted in lunch preparation and meeting my hosts' grown up family. At lunch time, I got a good dose of Thanksgiving Day turkey – not too dissimilar to what we Britons typically reserve for Christmas Day, except a stuffing which seemed to be more bread-based accompanied with a serving of sweet potato and various examples of Gayle’s personal culinary-idiosyncrasies.

The big moment was of course my first ever slice of Pumpkin Pie. I did enjoy it. Given that 1.5 billion pounds of the fruit is cultivated each year by Americans and then excavated from their Halloween lanterns, I do understand that it might as well be eaten. Nonetheless, I wouldn't say it was quite as great as sweet British winter staples Apple Pie and Crumble. However opinions differ and it is clear that pudding quality is in the taste-buds of the beholder!

After a sleepy afternoon – induced by a saturated stomach and a soporific Football game – my hosts took me on a driving tour of the area. I soon got my first glimpse of the local countryside. The land in the area is richly fertile. The fields are deep greens and dark brown in colour and I was able to get a good sense of its agricultural side, as the magma sunset led to dusk.

That evening, I was quickly was acquainted with the area’s USP for tourism. The Amish people are a common sight on the area's roads. Horse-drawn carriages and buggies are frequently seen on its country lanes – a constant hazard, given they typically lack electric lighting.

Okay, a (Wikipedia assisted) historical explanation. Lancaster was the site of the original Amish settlement in the United States and today the "plain" Christian group in the area, numbers approximately 25,000. They are famous for their very traditional means of living, plain dress and general tendency to eschew most modern conveniences. The Amish wish to avoid perceived "temporal" and "un-godly" frivolities and instead live a life which is pure in the eyes of God. The Amish way of life has changed little since arriving in the area from Europe in the Seventeenth century, when they were initially attracted by William Penn's promise of religious tolerance.

Plain, dark coloured, their clothing is simple. Buttons (considered superfluous and showy) are typically not worn. I soon found out, whilst we were driving that evening, that Amish homes and farm houses can easily be identified by the lack of wiring to the central electricity grid and by their extremely long washing lines – which, in lieu of a tumble drier - stretch (I guess) about 20 metres up the side of their buildings. The danger of vanity in life is similarly respected in death - an Amish cemetery we passed was remarkable for the small size and simple font used on its gravestones. Their lands are ploughed by horses, rather than petrol driven machines, bringing to life images I had previously only seen on quaint paintings of pre-industrial England.

Those wishing to learn more will be interested in Harrison Ford’s 1986 movie “Witness” or Satirist Al Yankovich’s “Amish Paradise” (found on youtube).
From my understanding, the Amish have a reasonably tolerant attitude toward other cultures. Their church is dedicated to the principles of Ana-Baptism – reserving the choice of entering the Church through Baptism to consenting adults (rather than infants, as is the custom in most other denominations). As such, they respect the right of their children to marry into other churches (when they do, they typically join more moderate and local Menonite congregations). However, they take a tough view - and often shun completely -those who are Baptised in the Amish faith and then turn away from it. The Amish are also grudgingly acceptant of the large numbers of tourists who visit them, though upset when photos are taken of them.

After exploring Amish land more thoroughly the following day, it was hard not to be impressed by the calmness that this apparently anachronistic group of people went about its day to day life. To some the Amish are backward and masochistic. To others, the Amish present a flattering light on Christianity that – in (arguably) one of its most fundamentalist manifestations –it is so placid. Both perspectives perhaps have some validity. I was sure that despite its virtues, it was not a way of life I would personally be able to live by.

The rest of the weekend was spent exploring the other sites that the locals claim fame for. Lititz is home to North America's first Pretzel family (presumably brought over from the Swiss or the Germans sometime around the Eighteenth Century). This is of course a "Big Deal" and there's a museum and tour, which I lacked time for. Their chocolate factory meanwhile is – so they claim - unquestionably the greatest in the US, particularly superior compared to that produced by local rivals, Hershey's.

Our whole group came together on the second evening of the weekend. The area has a reputation for large appetites and, as such, we shared a big meal including its-world-famous-within-Lancaster chick-pea pie. Amongst the international factions of our large group, we each had to produce a presentation on our home country and national identity. Struggling to think of something that identifies us as British, we performed Danish Diva Whigfield’s Classic “Saturday Night” and also showed the slower locals whereabouts Britain is on a map.

On my final full day in the area, I took the two-hour drive West with my hosts Don and Gayle, to The Gettysburg battlefield. Site, in 1863, of the most significant engagement in the Civil War, I found it hard to comprehend the size and scale of what had happened there. Gettysburg was the furthest advance of the Southern Confederate force in its effort to assert its independence from the Northern United States – so that it could preserve the use of slaves on its agricultural-based economy. Four months later, President Abraham Lincoln used the site to (arguably) re-define the American raison d’être declaring the chance of “a new birth of freedom” and the necessity of a "Government of the people, by the people and for the people". Years later, Gettysburg’s empty fields and serene hill sides give little impression of what happened – but the quiet surrounding its memorials and its sites of bloodshed remains an eerie one.

On the Sunday evening we returned to New York. We were glad to have experienced another side of American life: quieter and less cosmopolitan perhaps, but fascinating, generous and hospitable also. The people I met operated at a slower pace of life than I had grown accustomed to in New York, but were more world-aware than I had realised also. The cultural divide exists – but is narrower than I expected. I came back determined to travel and extend my understanding as far as possible, in my remaining months in North America.

The last day of MJ...

I got back from work on Thursday June 25th to find out from BBC online that Michael Jackson was "seriously ill" and being rushed to hospital. The beeb was reluctant to speculate but various West-Coast media sources quoted his death. I zipped on to 'The Drudge Report' and it reported that he was dead. When 'The Drudge Report' says that you're dead, I thought, you might as well already be 6 Feet underground but, still, I dared hope otherwise.

An hour or so later, as I was walking through Times Square, heading toward nearby Hell's Kitchen, I assumed I would find some kind of confirmation. A sizable crowd had formed around the abcnews ticker-tape screen.

Times Square is New York's answer to Piccadilly Circus in many ways: it has massive florescent lights, nearby theatres, McDonalds, no locals and a million tourists. It is much bigger though and New Yorkers hate it. I don't like the tourists around it and that tacky stuff being sold:WTC statuettes, "I (L) NYC T-Shirts", dodgy-looking kebabs and too many people hoping to pick up a spare dime. Another difference is its huge military recruitment station right in the middle, replete with large red, white and blue lighting, something you DEFINTELY don't get on a prominent platforin central London.

Nonetheless, at the risk of being looked down on as a tourist myself, I can't deny loving Times Square. I always find it reasonably exhilarating to walk through - especially at night - and do so, given half an excus. It was here - well two condensed blocks of revellers away - in-8oc cold, that I started 2009.

Any way, that evening, lots of people were hanging around outside the abc studios, waiting for their news and giving their upset reaction to a large retinue of reporters. I went over and had a look.

They were on an area that had recently been pedestrianised with deck chairs and there was a real variety of onlooker: a black lady with a Southern-sounding accent hugging her son, some loud tourists, unmistakably from the English Midlands, and another family arguing in Spanish as they took pictures of themselves in front of the huge Coca-Cola advert screens.

Very suddenly, ABC announced with certainty that "the king of Pop is dead at 50" on its rolling news screen and the tears and upset were released in the crowd around me.

My love of "Beat It" notwithstanding, I never considered myself a great fan of Michael Jackson, but - still, somehow - I felt like the world was suddenly a lot more empty than it was before. A true star in his hayday and an endearing freak for twenty years since, he was truly unique and one for whom millions of us had an intense curiosity. Like with the passing of George Best a few years ago, his death gave an opportunity to erase his ugly recent past from our minds and to focus instead on the youtube-worthy artistry of his prime.

Fame-averse though I am, I could not say no to the lovely Romanian TV Reporter when she asked me for my reaction to the news. Struggling for a soundbite, I said something about him being an "unforgettable" and an "entertainer". I don't know of anyone in Bucharest, so not sure if I made it on TV, despite my efforts to navigate their website.

Enjoying a Happy Hour and cheap burger a little bit later, the sleepy bar I was in was shaken up as "Smooth Criminal" was put on the stereo and the people in the bar put up a collective cheer. Suddenly, joining other members of the premature dead crowd, he was able to sing from beyond the grave and his star rose.

Whilst there was some level of grief, there was no hysteria. New Yorkers don't really do sentimentalism, It doesn't have the time. They do have time for fair cynicism though. At the Pedestrian Crossing later, I walked behind two New Yorkers debating his relative legendary status. "Well he was The King of Pop, but at least Elvis was no paedophile..."

As I walked towards my Jersey-bound PATH train later on in the evening, I passed a Broadway ticket seller at 42nd Street who summed up the mood: "Jackson's gone but the show goes on".