The WashPost (a/k/a the WP or WaPo) published two terrific Blaine stories this weekend.
Today he has an entertaining, creepy piece about the plastic surgery capital of Asia: Seoul, South Korea. The headline is "Assembly Required" and here is the lede.
"With wide eyes, sleek cheekbones and delicately upturned noses, the soap stars look alluringly and somewhat numbingly alike -- thanks to their own visits to the scalpel-wielding wizards whose gleaming clinics are clustered in a part of this city called "Makeover Town."..."
Yesterday (Saturday), Blaine had a story about Billy's Bootcamp, an exercise fad in Japan that has earned an aging American exercise guru more than $120 million, in a country where women and men are already shockingly thin.
Here are some choice grafs:
"Feel the power!" commands Blanks, who first felt the power of infomercials in the 1990s, when TV spots for his "Tae Bo total body fitness system" made him gobs of money and helped him land appearances on "ER" and "The Oprah Winfrey Show."
"Blanks has made himself into a household name here by tapping into two lucrative streams that flow from the modern Japanese psyche: an unselfconscious passion for fads and a self-conscious concern about being overweight...."
Stories like these set Blaine apart as a newspaper writer in America, not just because they are fun to read but because he identifies and wittily explains the social contexts that give birth to trends like these. Okay, so I'm his wife, but I also know what makes a good story even better.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
Moon Festival
Tonight we went to Nishimachi, Lucinda's school, to celebrate Otsukimi, the Japanese moon-viewing festival.
In the gym, we watched a program about the holiday, which celebrates the harvest and full moon.
The sixth grade staged a play of the Otsukimi legend, called "The Rabbit in the Moon". Here's the simplified version:
In the story, the "old man of the moon" looks down on Earth and sees three friends, a rabbit, a monkey and a fox.
To find out which of the three animals is the kindest, the old man in the moon comes down to Earth disguised as a beggar and asks the three to find food for him.
The monkey brings fruit; the fox brings fish. The rabbit offers to throw himself into a fire and cook himself as food for the beggar.
Hearing this, the beggar turns himself back into the Old-Man-of-the-Moon and invites the rabbit to live with him in the moon. This is why the Japanese people believe that when the moon is shining brightly, they can see the rabbit there pounding rice.
After the play, students waited in line to look at the moon from the school observatory; the moon was behind a nearby building, oh well. Many girls (Japanese and non-Japanese) and their mothers wore "yukata", or cotton kimonos, to the celebration.
The kids snacked on Otsukimi treats - rice-flour balls filled with red-bean paste and rice crackers and made a rabbit-in-the-moon with paint.
Finally, a teacher helped Lucinda fold an origami rabbit for an Otsukimi scene on paper, and Arno giggled when Blaine tickled him.
In the gym, we watched a program about the holiday, which celebrates the harvest and full moon.
The sixth grade staged a play of the Otsukimi legend, called "The Rabbit in the Moon". Here's the simplified version:
In the story, the "old man of the moon" looks down on Earth and sees three friends, a rabbit, a monkey and a fox.
To find out which of the three animals is the kindest, the old man in the moon comes down to Earth disguised as a beggar and asks the three to find food for him.
The monkey brings fruit; the fox brings fish. The rabbit offers to throw himself into a fire and cook himself as food for the beggar.
Hearing this, the beggar turns himself back into the Old-Man-of-the-Moon and invites the rabbit to live with him in the moon. This is why the Japanese people believe that when the moon is shining brightly, they can see the rabbit there pounding rice.
After the play, students waited in line to look at the moon from the school observatory; the moon was behind a nearby building, oh well. Many girls (Japanese and non-Japanese) and their mothers wore "yukata", or cotton kimonos, to the celebration.
The kids snacked on Otsukimi treats - rice-flour balls filled with red-bean paste and rice crackers and made a rabbit-in-the-moon with paint.
Finally, a teacher helped Lucinda fold an origami rabbit for an Otsukimi scene on paper, and Arno giggled when Blaine tickled him.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Learning Japanese
Lucinda is soaking up the lessons from her daily, 40-minute Japanese class, and today she announced that she'd learned to write her name in Katakana, one of the three Japanese alphabets. She showed me on a recent drawing.
It's not 100 percent right, but it's darn close to "Ru-shi-n-da" if you look at this katakana map.
It's not 100 percent right, but it's darn close to "Ru-shi-n-da" if you look at this katakana map.
How much for an artichoke?
I didn't anticipate one of the biggest challenges to adapting U.S. family life to Tokyo.
In Seattle, we could find a broad selection of the best vegetables and fruits at prices we could handle, even at Whole Foods. But some produce that we loved to eat in Seattle, like grapes and blueberries, corn and artichokes, are a costly minefield here.
Today at one grocery store that had generally reasonable prices, even for imported goods, I saw a 1/2 pint box of blueberries for $6, a half-pint of raspberries for $10, and corn for $2/ear. And these artichokes.
That's right: one artichoke costs 1575 yen - about $14! And it wasn't even a great-looking artichoke.
We are adjusting our cooking and eating accordingly.
In Seattle, we could find a broad selection of the best vegetables and fruits at prices we could handle, even at Whole Foods. But some produce that we loved to eat in Seattle, like grapes and blueberries, corn and artichokes, are a costly minefield here.
Today at one grocery store that had generally reasonable prices, even for imported goods, I saw a 1/2 pint box of blueberries for $6, a half-pint of raspberries for $10, and corn for $2/ear. And these artichokes.
That's right: one artichoke costs 1575 yen - about $14! And it wasn't even a great-looking artichoke.
We are adjusting our cooking and eating accordingly.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Children's Castle
Lucinda, Arno and I tested another weekend children's hangout: The National Children's Castle, a multi-million $$ play center near fashionable Omotesando. It's a lot like the Tokyo Metropolitan Children's Hall, but this is the paid version. (400 yen per child, 500 yen per adult - or about $4 and $5 if you ballpark currency exchange.)
The two best attractions at the Children's Castle are the rooftop playground and the 3rd floor art room. The roof has a maze of nets and tunnels to climb through, but the kids absolutely loved jumping into these balls.
In the art room, there is a totally cool, huge white board for the kids to paint on. This would be such a great addition to any children's museum - there's a drain underneath so it must get hosed down every night.
There's also a wooden indoor play structure called...
...and low-tech games, like air hockey without the air. In the home-play section, Lucinda put Japanese dolls on tiny futons.
Afterwards, I took them to McDonald's for lunch, their first-ever McDonald's meal. I decided not to tell them about the restaurant's American identity because I didn't want to make it even more alluring.
In Seattle, Blaine liked to take the kids to Red Mill for burgers, fries and milkshakes, but we haven't found a suitable replacement here.
At McDonalds's, Lucinda scarfed down her burger and fries, spotted the milkshake ads and declared, "On Daddy's birthday, we should surprise him and bring him here for supper!"
The two best attractions at the Children's Castle are the rooftop playground and the 3rd floor art room. The roof has a maze of nets and tunnels to climb through, but the kids absolutely loved jumping into these balls.
In the art room, there is a totally cool, huge white board for the kids to paint on. This would be such a great addition to any children's museum - there's a drain underneath so it must get hosed down every night.
There's also a wooden indoor play structure called...
...and low-tech games, like air hockey without the air. In the home-play section, Lucinda put Japanese dolls on tiny futons.
Afterwards, I took them to McDonald's for lunch, their first-ever McDonald's meal. I decided not to tell them about the restaurant's American identity because I didn't want to make it even more alluring.
In Seattle, Blaine liked to take the kids to Red Mill for burgers, fries and milkshakes, but we haven't found a suitable replacement here.
At McDonalds's, Lucinda scarfed down her burger and fries, spotted the milkshake ads and declared, "On Daddy's birthday, we should surprise him and bring him here for supper!"
Diapers for sale
On the plus side, Arno has effectively potty trained himself in the past week. He even wakes up at night to pee! This is a welcome surprise, because Lucinda followed her own schedule (as usual) on this front.
Now I can sell the 4 boxes of diapers I bought at Costco in Seattle, and cut down on my burnable trash collection!
Now I can sell the 4 boxes of diapers I bought at Costco in Seattle, and cut down on my burnable trash collection!
Long weekend
Some days with children are not fun - and this was one of them. On days like this, I remind myself not to blame Tokyo, but being here adds a degree of difficulty to the average, not-fun day.
Lucinda and Arno dragged Blaine out of bed to make pancakes, and within an hour, they were squabbling, shouting, screeching and driving us crazy. When will they be old enough to play by themselves in the morning?
Then Blaine told me he felt sick - and he also had to work this afternoon, which meant that I was solo-parenting for the seventh day in a row. (Blaine was in South Korea last week and took a reporting trip to Yokohama on Saturday. He is working like a dog.)
I scrambled and took the kids to a park, Hibiya Koen, near the Imperial Palace, where there was a playground we hadn't visited. It started off well: we emerged from the subway to see Tokyo's version of Nature with a pond, turtles on a rock, ducks and a German garden where several people were painting the scenery from benches.
On to the playground which, like so many Tokyo playgrounds, looks like something you'd find in Romania, circa 1978. Run-down equipment with a bit of rust, on dirt sprinkled with scrubby weeds. Not inspiring.
On the plus side, the park was the finish line for a charity 10k run, and there was a guitarist singing in English. I'd been feeling bummed out, but the kids threw themselves into playing, and pretty soon were chasing each other around.
Then they got tired and Lucinda started whining, but sometimes I can't just make it easy and take a taxi home. Instead I dragged them back to the subway and then decided I should buy groceries - which meant taking the kids into a new store where I couldn't find anything.
Soon enough, they were running down the aisles and pulling colored marshmallows off the shelves and I was hollering at them while I scrambled to buy meat and veggie. And THEN we walked home. Do you ever compound mistakes by making new ones that are just as irrational?
In Seattle, I'd arranged our family life to minimize hassles. Tokyo is more of an adventure, but sometimes it's an adventure in exhaustion.
Lucinda and Arno dragged Blaine out of bed to make pancakes, and within an hour, they were squabbling, shouting, screeching and driving us crazy. When will they be old enough to play by themselves in the morning?
Then Blaine told me he felt sick - and he also had to work this afternoon, which meant that I was solo-parenting for the seventh day in a row. (Blaine was in South Korea last week and took a reporting trip to Yokohama on Saturday. He is working like a dog.)
I scrambled and took the kids to a park, Hibiya Koen, near the Imperial Palace, where there was a playground we hadn't visited. It started off well: we emerged from the subway to see Tokyo's version of Nature with a pond, turtles on a rock, ducks and a German garden where several people were painting the scenery from benches.
On to the playground which, like so many Tokyo playgrounds, looks like something you'd find in Romania, circa 1978. Run-down equipment with a bit of rust, on dirt sprinkled with scrubby weeds. Not inspiring.
On the plus side, the park was the finish line for a charity 10k run, and there was a guitarist singing in English. I'd been feeling bummed out, but the kids threw themselves into playing, and pretty soon were chasing each other around.
Then they got tired and Lucinda started whining, but sometimes I can't just make it easy and take a taxi home. Instead I dragged them back to the subway and then decided I should buy groceries - which meant taking the kids into a new store where I couldn't find anything.
Soon enough, they were running down the aisles and pulling colored marshmallows off the shelves and I was hollering at them while I scrambled to buy meat and veggie. And THEN we walked home. Do you ever compound mistakes by making new ones that are just as irrational?
In Seattle, I'd arranged our family life to minimize hassles. Tokyo is more of an adventure, but sometimes it's an adventure in exhaustion.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Big Digger
We have a new stop on our walk home, a small construction site near Lucinda's and Arno's schools where a digger and a concrete crusher are tearing away the foundation of an old building.
The kids are fascinated to see these machines up close.
Progress seems slow, perhaps because the concrete is laced with rebar. One machine pounds into the concrete, then welders move in to slice the rebar, and the digger strains out the biggest rocks.
The kids are fascinated to see these machines up close.
Progress seems slow, perhaps because the concrete is laced with rebar. One machine pounds into the concrete, then welders move in to slice the rebar, and the digger strains out the biggest rocks.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Dog day
Dogs are a huge deal here, and they are a good substitute for children in a country where having kids is expensive and a career-killer for most women. I often see 20-somethings carrying tiny, super-fancy dogs in designer purses.
This morning, this woman walked by the Starbucks in Roppongi Hills with her two pups in a stroller.
When I asked if I could take a picture, she fluffed them up, stood a few feet away and made kissing sounds to perk them up for the camera.
Later, I saw this fancy store: Pet Esthe. There's a doggie dress in the window!
This morning, this woman walked by the Starbucks in Roppongi Hills with her two pups in a stroller.
When I asked if I could take a picture, she fluffed them up, stood a few feet away and made kissing sounds to perk them up for the camera.
Later, I saw this fancy store: Pet Esthe. There's a doggie dress in the window!
Practicing for Earthquakes
After a few weeks of practice, Lucinda's kindergarten held an earthquake drill today.
The "earthquake" occurred at 1:50 p.m. Parents were asked to leave home at 1:50 p.m. and walk to school (most families live nearby) to pick up their child in person.
Lucinda told me what happened after the teacher announced, Earthquake! The kids duck under the nearest table. When the shaking stops, her teacher hands out silver, pointed, padded hoods that the children wear to protect them from falling debris and (I assume, because of the silver fabric) to keep them warm.
When I arrived at the kindergarten at about 2:20 p.m., school administrators in white helmets were waiting outside.
Lucinda and her classmates, in their hoods, were sitting quietly at a table reading books. Lucinda told me not to laugh about the hood, and she looks a little sheepish here. (I warned her that I was bringing my camera.)
I had to present an emergency card to her teacher before she could leave with me.
Then her teacher praised her for sitting quietly and following directions, and Lucinda walked to the ground-floor window and climbed out. (Here's a photo of her classmate doing the same.)
I have bought boxed emergency supplies - three days of food, water and a blanket - but some people have cookstoves, fuel, boxes of canned goods and thousands of dollars in cash in their homes, just in case.
The "earthquake" occurred at 1:50 p.m. Parents were asked to leave home at 1:50 p.m. and walk to school (most families live nearby) to pick up their child in person.
Lucinda told me what happened after the teacher announced, Earthquake! The kids duck under the nearest table. When the shaking stops, her teacher hands out silver, pointed, padded hoods that the children wear to protect them from falling debris and (I assume, because of the silver fabric) to keep them warm.
When I arrived at the kindergarten at about 2:20 p.m., school administrators in white helmets were waiting outside.
Lucinda and her classmates, in their hoods, were sitting quietly at a table reading books. Lucinda told me not to laugh about the hood, and she looks a little sheepish here. (I warned her that I was bringing my camera.)
I had to present an emergency card to her teacher before she could leave with me.
Then her teacher praised her for sitting quietly and following directions, and Lucinda walked to the ground-floor window and climbed out. (Here's a photo of her classmate doing the same.)
I have bought boxed emergency supplies - three days of food, water and a blanket - but some people have cookstoves, fuel, boxes of canned goods and thousands of dollars in cash in their homes, just in case.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Blaine's latest...
... is a story about a homeless man living in a park near our house.
I noticed this man at the playground. He was sitting on a bench behind the enormous wooden play structure that Arno imagined was a pirate ship. His jacket, on a hangar, was hanging in a tree and his "outdoor shoes" were placed neatly at the base of the tree.
This could not be more different than a New York Times story I wrote about homeless alcoholics in Seattle, who ran up huge bills in emergency rooms and the drunk tank - and were now living for free (or with low rent) in apartments where they could drink and pass out, and save taxpayer dollars.
I noticed this man at the playground. He was sitting on a bench behind the enormous wooden play structure that Arno imagined was a pirate ship. His jacket, on a hangar, was hanging in a tree and his "outdoor shoes" were placed neatly at the base of the tree.
This could not be more different than a New York Times story I wrote about homeless alcoholics in Seattle, who ran up huge bills in emergency rooms and the drunk tank - and were now living for free (or with low rent) in apartments where they could drink and pass out, and save taxpayer dollars.
Sun and fashion
Most days here are still muggy and hot, in the 90s. I imagine it's like being in the South in mid-summer without ocean breezes or an air-conditioned car, and wearing shorts and T-shirts is the only option for many expat women who are pushing strollers up and down Tokyo's hills.
But many Japanese women manage the heat differently: with parasols, huge tinted visors, white gloves and a long black shirt and pants. This woman was on a rooftop playground with her son yesterday.
Maybe I'll try it next summer?
But many Japanese women manage the heat differently: with parasols, huge tinted visors, white gloves and a long black shirt and pants. This woman was on a rooftop playground with her son yesterday.
Maybe I'll try it next summer?
Design tune-up, please
This is one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world. Using your cellphone, you can check the precise location and arrival time of the next metro bus on any route.
But the public toilets could use some innovation! This is the ladies' room in a public park: you squat down, hold tight to the bar on the wall and go. At least toilet paper is provided.
But the public toilets could use some innovation! This is the ladies' room in a public park: you squat down, hold tight to the bar on the wall and go. At least toilet paper is provided.
Old house, new house
Wow, I haven't finished a blog post in several days - it's hard to keep up with the action!
Our furniture arrived last Wednesday, and I was swept up by the busyness of unpacking and organizing. (Which still isn't done, oh well). I want to show you where we live now, and to compare it to our house in Seattle.
Here's Seattle: a 100-year-old house with lots of color inside and out, a minivan and a big, green backyard. Plus fantastic views of the Cascade Mountains and Lake Washington.
Our Tokyo house is a few years old and triangle-shaped, with beige stucco on the outside and oatmeal-colored wallpaper and beige wall-to-wall carpet on the inside - totally bland, which is standard for expat rentals. The only bright color in the picture is our red mailbox.
And here's our Tokyo living room and kitchen - which look more like our apartment in New York.
We are relieved to have our rugs and paintings to brighten up the house and soften the expensive, insane-asylum decor.
Our furniture arrived last Wednesday, and I was swept up by the busyness of unpacking and organizing. (Which still isn't done, oh well). I want to show you where we live now, and to compare it to our house in Seattle.
Here's Seattle: a 100-year-old house with lots of color inside and out, a minivan and a big, green backyard. Plus fantastic views of the Cascade Mountains and Lake Washington.
Our Tokyo house is a few years old and triangle-shaped, with beige stucco on the outside and oatmeal-colored wallpaper and beige wall-to-wall carpet on the inside - totally bland, which is standard for expat rentals. The only bright color in the picture is our red mailbox.
And here's our Tokyo living room and kitchen - which look more like our apartment in New York.
We are relieved to have our rugs and paintings to brighten up the house and soften the expensive, insane-asylum decor.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Great food
Blaine had an 7-course lunch today with some government officials, at a restaurant near the Tokyo Tower.
Walnut tofu
Deep friend tofu with sweet miso sauce and egg custard
Simmered daikon radish and beef
Crab and spinach with ginger vinegar, eel-pressed sushi and caramelized chestnuts, plus persimmon with sesame sauce
Bean soup with tofu
Boiled rice with taro
Jelly made of pumpkin
We'll have to go back, and I will take pix of the best dishes.
Walnut tofu
Deep friend tofu with sweet miso sauce and egg custard
Simmered daikon radish and beef
Crab and spinach with ginger vinegar, eel-pressed sushi and caramelized chestnuts, plus persimmon with sesame sauce
Bean soup with tofu
Boiled rice with taro
Jelly made of pumpkin
We'll have to go back, and I will take pix of the best dishes.
Neat building
Tokyo is not known for beautiful architecture, but I did see a neat building on a walk the other day.
It's the Prada shop in the high-style Omotesando neighborhood, designed by Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron.
Found: local produce market
It is shockingly expensive here to buy fruits and veggies at supermarkets that cater to expats. As in, $8 for a small bunch of grapes or $1.50 for an ear of (admittedly delicious) corn.
So my big discovery this week, thanks to a friend in the neighborhood, was a produce market for locals.
All the signs are in Japanese, and the prices are incredibly cheap - easily half of what I'd spend elsewhere. Now I need to figure out how to cook all of the curious Japanese veggies, like that bumpy looking cucumber or that green, spiky thing (fruit? veggie?).
Fortunately, Blaine's WashPost colleague and translator, Ako, is taking me at a grocery store near her house for a full supermarket briefing. Photos and details to come...
So my big discovery this week, thanks to a friend in the neighborhood, was a produce market for locals.
All the signs are in Japanese, and the prices are incredibly cheap - easily half of what I'd spend elsewhere. Now I need to figure out how to cook all of the curious Japanese veggies, like that bumpy looking cucumber or that green, spiky thing (fruit? veggie?).
Fortunately, Blaine's WashPost colleague and translator, Ako, is taking me at a grocery store near her house for a full supermarket briefing. Photos and details to come...
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Six years after Sept. 11
Every year on the anniversary, I think about my experiences on Sept 11 and Sept 12, 2001. I was standing on the corner of Chambers and Church Streets with hundreds of other people when we heard a confusing, roaring sound as the South Tower fell. People were shouting "Run!", and I nearly vomited in fear as I sprinted up Broadway with smoke and debris billowing up behind me. I was far enough away - 5 blocks - to be totally safe.
Here's a photograph taken by my Columbia journalism school friend, Ting-li Wang, who was shooting that day for The New York Times. I am with Jeremiah Johnson, a public radio reporter, on a 28th floor balcony overlooking the Trade Center. This picture was taken shortly after the collapse of WTC Building #7.
We went to the top floor of this apartment building and knocked on doors of apartments facing south. A frightened couple let us in. They listened to our radio, used our cell phones and fed us a dinner of canned mushrooms, beans and beer. The electricity went out and we had nowhere else to go. Ting-li took her images back to the NYT. Jeremiah slept on the floor and gave me the couch.
At 6 a.m. the next morning, Jeremiah and I held hands and counted out loud as we walked down 28 flights in pitch-black darkness. I snuck closer to Ground Zero in a trash truck and joined a group of reporters to see the North Tower. I spent the rest of the day arguing with police officers to try to get back to Ground Zero, but I finally gave up and interviewed firefighters about what they'd seen.
Here is the top of that grim story, from my old life:
Newsday (New York, NY)
September 13, 2001 Thursday ALL EDITIONS
HEADLINE: TERRORIST ATTACKS; 'The Pile' Holds Out Little Hope; Rescuers frustrated in search for survivors among the ruins
BYLINE: By Jessica Kowal; STAFF WRITER
Ground zero at the World Trade Center is a nightmarish jumble of steel and pulverized concrete and human remains.
The skeletons of buildings are laid out over several blocks, thousands of tons of steel compressed into what rescuers have begun calling "The Pile." Those who saw the wreckage were unanimous in the view that, despite a few rescues, the Twin Towers have become a horrific cemetery.
It seemed impossible that victims survived monster blasts and tumbling steel and concrete, firefighters, doctors and volunteers said yesterday. Jennifer Svahn, an attending vascular surgeon at Beth Israel Hospital, walked through the core of fallen buildings ready to help victims. Amid the gloomy, sooty, ashy heap, there were none.
"There's a morgue down there, and body parts," Svahn said. "It's a crematorium."
Early in the day, reporters were brought to the corner of West Street and Vesey Street, directly across from the charred stub that is One World Trade Center.
Six floors remained of the 110-story tower, with girders sticking up like forks and white window shades fluttering out of broken panes. From high up a half-mile away, both towers resembled scorched souffles, a grim blackness caving in on itself.
Office documents had flown out of file cabinets and off desktops and littered the ground, their edges burnt. Handwritten memos, lunch and limo expenses and paper covered with Chinese characters were found...
---
I also think about journalist friends who were much closer and could have been seriously hurt, like Willie Rashbaum of the NYT, who was with Mayor Giuliani, and Greg Smith of the NY Daily News, who dove down subway steps when the first tower fell. I'm glad they weren't hurt.
Here's a photograph taken by my Columbia journalism school friend, Ting-li Wang, who was shooting that day for The New York Times. I am with Jeremiah Johnson, a public radio reporter, on a 28th floor balcony overlooking the Trade Center. This picture was taken shortly after the collapse of WTC Building #7.
We went to the top floor of this apartment building and knocked on doors of apartments facing south. A frightened couple let us in. They listened to our radio, used our cell phones and fed us a dinner of canned mushrooms, beans and beer. The electricity went out and we had nowhere else to go. Ting-li took her images back to the NYT. Jeremiah slept on the floor and gave me the couch.
At 6 a.m. the next morning, Jeremiah and I held hands and counted out loud as we walked down 28 flights in pitch-black darkness. I snuck closer to Ground Zero in a trash truck and joined a group of reporters to see the North Tower. I spent the rest of the day arguing with police officers to try to get back to Ground Zero, but I finally gave up and interviewed firefighters about what they'd seen.
Here is the top of that grim story, from my old life:
Newsday (New York, NY)
September 13, 2001 Thursday ALL EDITIONS
HEADLINE: TERRORIST ATTACKS; 'The Pile' Holds Out Little Hope; Rescuers frustrated in search for survivors among the ruins
BYLINE: By Jessica Kowal; STAFF WRITER
Ground zero at the World Trade Center is a nightmarish jumble of steel and pulverized concrete and human remains.
The skeletons of buildings are laid out over several blocks, thousands of tons of steel compressed into what rescuers have begun calling "The Pile." Those who saw the wreckage were unanimous in the view that, despite a few rescues, the Twin Towers have become a horrific cemetery.
It seemed impossible that victims survived monster blasts and tumbling steel and concrete, firefighters, doctors and volunteers said yesterday. Jennifer Svahn, an attending vascular surgeon at Beth Israel Hospital, walked through the core of fallen buildings ready to help victims. Amid the gloomy, sooty, ashy heap, there were none.
"There's a morgue down there, and body parts," Svahn said. "It's a crematorium."
Early in the day, reporters were brought to the corner of West Street and Vesey Street, directly across from the charred stub that is One World Trade Center.
Six floors remained of the 110-story tower, with girders sticking up like forks and white window shades fluttering out of broken panes. From high up a half-mile away, both towers resembled scorched souffles, a grim blackness caving in on itself.
Office documents had flown out of file cabinets and off desktops and littered the ground, their edges burnt. Handwritten memos, lunch and limo expenses and paper covered with Chinese characters were found...
---
I also think about journalist friends who were much closer and could have been seriously hurt, like Willie Rashbaum of the NYT, who was with Mayor Giuliani, and Greg Smith of the NY Daily News, who dove down subway steps when the first tower fell. I'm glad they weren't hurt.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Chopsticks
Lucinda has learned to use chopsticks after living in Tokyo for only 3.5 weeks! In this picture, she is eating eel and rice in a tiny restaurant at the fish market.
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