Washington DC (Part 2)
I wake up early around 7 or so as my first place I'm going to has limited tickets and is heavily attended. I head downstairs and get my breakfast (2 bowls of Fruit Loops, blueberry muffin), which I was led to believe was free but I guess isn't...I'll have to figure that out tomorrow. I read the paper a a bit and head off to The Holocaust Memorial Museum. I get there super early and as I talk to the security guard, it turns out I didn't need to. I had tried getting my vacation during the slow season and it turns out today was the first day of school for all the local DC kids. Do I plan this shit great or what?
Eventually when the time rolls around to enter into the exhibit, I get past the metal detector (1st of the trip) and enter. Sad that they need such a thing here but whatever. I go and try and find the main permanent exhibit and while walking around I find a solemn memorial for silent reflection. I light a candle, and reflect in my mind what I'm about to see and witness in the memorial. I spot a really cute girl there and realize my luck is horrible in that someone who is interested in this tragic history is probably extremely intelligent or could have had family that was caught in this tragedy. Alas, this is hardly the place or the time and my mind snaps back.
I find the exhibit and it does an incredible job. It's amazingly detailed in WWII history, the holocaust, and its aftermath. Words cannot describe the amount of emotion that surged through me while there. You couldn't be human and have it not affect you. It took a lot of biting my lip to prevent me from just breaking down right then and there. Perhaps I should have just let it it out, I dunno. The more I thought about it, while there is obviously a heavy emphasis on Hitler's main target of Jewish people, the memorial does talk about and address other targets of Hitler's "cleansing" including Polish, gays and lesbians, and the disabled. There's no way for me to ever know for sure due to the way my family tree is constructed (a grandparent on each side was adopted and both sides don't remember much on their parents or grandparents), but I can only imagine that my relatives were either in it or involved at some point. I can only hope that they helped with the uprisings and fought bravely. Regardless if my family isn't involved, it's still my people. I firmly believe that everyone I know (or don't know) should visit there. No exceptions, without a doubt. It's certainly not easy or "fun" but it's not supposed to be something to just breeze through. Something for you to humble you and take with you for the rest of your life. That the next time you see persecution or the possiblity of genocide, that you must step up and speak out against it. To give a modern example, there was an exhibit on Darfur and how the group that maintains the memorial is calling for action on the international community and the United States to help stop it. The story of Darfur is especially poignant having seen Hotel Rwanda before my trip. You'll notice I didn't take any pictures inside, but some of the outside. I couldn't bring myself to do it. It seemed it would cheapen the effect and I would focus too much on getting a shot rather then learning and reflecting. There are others out there who have, and I would direct you to search on Flickr for them.
After this, next on my list was the Newseum. It's a museum (that isn't free in DC! gasp!) that is about journalism in all its form. Lined outside are all the front pages of major US cities including Chicago [link here] and inside everything it up-to-date. I watched a movie on sports journalism and the evolution of it's coverage. They also had an exhibit on the FBI and G-Men which was nice since the FBI used to have a tour (which I went on while little) but after 1999 it was closed for renovation. Then obviously after 9/11...well they don't want any visitors obviously. Still, the Newseum grabbed a bunch of neat stuff the FBI has in their archives that normally wouldn't have seen the light of day. A recreation of the car (used in court) that the DC snipers used for their killing spree, evidence used in the Lindbergh kidnapping, Waco, the Unabomber's cabin, and Oklahoma City bombing items.
I then head up to the Pulitzer prize photo room (an award given to the best pictures in photojournalism every year). The room had on display all the pictures since around the 1920's and they had 2 paragraph explanation on certain pictures that were highlighted explaining how the photographer got the picture and what was going on. Then there was an room on political ads starting from the election in 1956 between Eisenhower and Stevenson (who I learned refused to appear in his political ads since he found it degrading...and lost twice) to Obama and McCain. Interesting to see how the ads have changed throughout the years. They included of course the most famous ad: Daisy (which can also be found on YouTube). I wonder around going up floor by floor and am amused by the Internet and blog section, seeing footage from the early 90's of the web and kinda smirk. As I move on, I see something I can't immediately identify and then it hits me like a ton of bricks. They have a 9/11 section in the museum.
Already a rough morning, I see there's a video playing and just outside is a tissue box. Knowing this, I go in and watch probably about half the video. It's personal testimony from journalists who were covering the events that day. From crumbling buildings and dust storms, to the traffic reporter who was trying to stay calm while watching the building on fire. People who are trained (and pride themselves on) being neutral and emotionally detached from the story who just finally couldn't help but break down and cry at the tragedy they witnessed up front and first hand. While watching this, there were several people who left suddenly with one woman who said "I can't watch anymore I'll be outside". The emotions are still raw on our country's conscience. While it may be used as a throwaway line so much in our discourse, when one sits down and remembers and hears the stories that day, it all hits home harder than you think. Outside the video area is a wall filled with the front pages of reaction throughout the US and the world to the shock and disgust of 9/11. Some calling it a "day of infamy" like Pearl Harbor, others swearing revenge and attack, some telling of solidarity and the line that "we're all Americans today". A feeling that was squandered quickly...
After finishing the museum and exiting, I noticed...the Canadian embassy outside. Sweet. I got a few pictures of that and headed off to find the Atrium Cafe for lunch. Nothing too fancy, just a sandiwch shop nearby. Now while I was walking, I had my sunglasses on to peoplewatch and well...be able to look at all the good looking women who pass by without being creepy. lol For whatever reason when I went out I didn't have them on and noticed 3 girls together who were pretty attractive (2 of em really really skinny, but the 3rd not bad at all). As I pass by, the main girl asks where the National Gallery of Art is. Not having that on my list, I pulled out a map to find it. When I do this, she's shocked as she apparently thought I was a DC native (interesting impression) but is like "oh great you're a tourist too" but I reassure her, I just came from here (pointing to the Newseum) which is right down there, if you head this way you'll find it. They take off and I feel good doing my good deed of the day but felt like a wuss for not taking advantage of the situation presented to me. I get about a block away and the main girl I was talking to runs to me and asks if she could borrow my phone to call a friend she was meeting up with. Not wanting to turn the pretty girl down, I obliged and gave her the nice Venus phone too. As I heard her talk more, I noticed an accent of some sort, it almost sounded French. No way I found 3 good looking French girls, that's sweet. After she's done, she thanks me and asks if I'd like to come along with them to the gallery. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, I agree. Even though it wasn't really on my list and most "art" I don't...get or always find tons of interest in. What the hell, give it a shot.
As we walk there, she asks me where I'm visiting from. When I say Chicago, she jumps back about a foot looking frightened and says "that's such a dangerous place". lol I wonder what she had read to give her that impression. Old gangster stuff? Like Capone and all? After I reassure her that I'm not armed and won't hurt her and tell her to look how nice I've been so far, she's reassured. She introduces herself and her 2 friends. I'll be damned if I understood their names but got hers: Sophie. She said they were there to see impression. I understood this as, to get an impression of, to view real quick as the museum would be closing soon. Noooo they meant as in the impression painters. Oh. She started to ask me what type of art I like, and what my favorite is and I was flatfooted and just explained that I wasn't too much of an art guy to know what they were called necessarily but once I see something I know I'll like it. I could have said photography, sculpture, portraits, anything, but just blanked out. >_< I also say that sometimes it's hard to get since I'm not artistic. She responds that she's not either but can recognize and know beauty regardless. She points out several paintings by Van Gogh, Cezanne, Monet, Gaugin, Passat and explains their history and where the painter was emotionally and how she interprets different paintings. I realize I could learn tons of art history from a teacher that has a bare midriff, a provacative necklace that points to cleavage with a broken English accent. :)
Well it turns out as I learn more that they're not French. I listened to them speak for a good half hour and couldn't pick up what the native language was until I heard someone else say something in Russian and she looked back in disgust at the person. She was offended that someone said Monet was shit. So it's Russian, not French. I'm a wee bit off. She explains that they've been traveling for 3 1/2 months from Boston to Florida and finally to DC. Today was their last day before they were heading back home to Moscow. So Brian's ears perked up at that last line. So as we're ready to leave the museum, she asks what I'm up to next. I playfully wave my schedule and her eyes go wide. She asks to see it and as she reads it over she asks if I did this or someone else did. When I inform her I did, she asks how long it took, why, etc etc. She looks at me, grasping for the right word and pausing, and says I could never do this, you must be some kind of...nerd. LOL Well it's offically international now. As we leave, we head to a sculpture garden with "modern" art. The kind I know I don't like and don't get. Random pieces of metal put together that are supposed to look like something. Like this red piece in the background near Smithsonian Hirshhorn Museum. It looks like something that wasn't finished. I don't get what the hell that is except a pile of beams! I digress. So while we're sitting there enjoying a water fountain area, she casually mentions how she's meeting up with her friend, a guy who's in the Navy and how it might be awkward for me to meet up with him. Shit. She says goodbye to her "friend" on the phone in Russian and jokes about how she's trying to teach him Russian. She tells me the word "Do svidanja" and on the second time I get it, and she's visibly impressed I got it that quick.
Maybe a slicker man woulda gone with the girls, took the challenge, read more into what was said (and not said). Though it's hard to do that when they'd speak to each other in Russian with me standing there not knowing how to react. A more experienced guy would have found some way to meet up with her later on (perhaps after the friend). Or a wiser man wouldn't have any of these questions and just be happy with what happened and not overthink it. It did reaffirm the fact that it will take an agressive girl to kinda take me by the hand and pull me into some sort of relationship.
I've had people tell me that this sorta stuff is easy. It never has been for me. I could blame it on or point to a lot of things, but none of it conclusive and it's just an excuse anyways. Still, a cute or attractive girl asks me a question and my body tenses up, my throat goes dry, my heartbeat quicken (not of attraction but from nerves). If there's a potential or I think there might be then I'll act this way. Furthermore, any intelligent thought or knowledge I have somehow temporarily vanishes and I struggle for cohesive grammatically correct sentences. Like when Sophie asked why there was a monument to Washington, not understanding his importance and she quickly confessed she didn't know a whole lot about US history. Well I don't know a ton about Russian history so we're even. :) I fumbled around trying to explain why the monument was an obelisk not a sculpture and why he was important and what he means to the country. Still, if there's no potential for anything with the girl, none of these symptoms show. If it's a friend or girlfriend of one of my other friends or potentially could be, my psyche changes dramatically. All I am concerned about is being a friend and not doing anything that could wreck my friend's chances at anything. Although until I get to know the girl more I'm quiet, not wanting to offend or do something foolish. I play it safe until I understand their background. It also doesn't happen when I'm at work. Ever. Anyways, back to the vacation story I'm rambling here.
So after meeting the girls...now I'm starving and still can't find this goofy cafe. The VZ Navigator on the phone works incredibly well in cars, but the pedestrian mode leaves a lot to be desired. It's slow to catch up (especially the way I walk) and by the time it catches up you could be 2-3 blocks off your destination. Well the VZ Nav picks up a Quizno's and giving up on the cafe I order a sandwich there. Being near Pennsylvania Avenue, and since my schedule got thrown off yesterday looking for something to drink I headed off to get some pics of nearby buildings: FBI and Deapartment of Justice specifically. I noticed some other interesting ones like the EPA, Federal Trade Comission, the old post office building, even the IRS. Ha. I head on to see the Washington Monument itself and the other nearby memorials: Lincoln, Korean, and Vietnam War memorials. I was able to get some shots of the Vietnam and Washington memorials before it got dark. And resolved to get more shots of Lincoln and the Korean memorials during the daytime on another day. You could barely see his speeches inside on film in the dark.
Realizing that since it is dark, I'm hungry again and head off for a place called the Old Ebbitt Grill. It's a famous restaurant in the fact that's a block away from the White House and a favorite hangout for politicians and in the past, presidents as well. Still, Congress is out of session and it's still the last bit of summer so I had no expectations for any sightings but still wanted to visit regardless. As I was walking to it, Megan H had called me and asked where I was at and I replied with a bit of giddiness in my voice "oh just next to the Department of Treasury". Hehe. I talked a bit before heading in to eat. I was dressed in my normal outfit: nice shirt, khaki shorts, and my camera bag. Obviously a tourist and the lifeblood of the city. I was quickly seated and served but the waitress had this dismissive attitude towards me the entire time. I normally would have wrote it off to being a long day and it's only 1 person at this table. Still she was perfectly fine with any of the other people in her section who were older. The people who came by and cleaned up the table between courses were nicer. Still, I tried to make the best of it and ordered an interesting cocktail called an orangesicle. I couldn't pass this up. It's vodka based (a plus) with orange juice, and half and half that came with an orange slice topped with a sugar rimmed glass. Tasted just like a creamsicle...that had a vodka aftertaste. lol I called Megan H back and after the call dropped in the Metro tunnels while heading back to the hotel, I resolved to finish the conversation later.