SSSSNAKE AND THE CITY

Another charming thing about New York City is how much fun New Yorkers can have over the strangest things. The week-long absence of an adolescent (20 inches, 3 ounces) Egyptian Cobra from its cage in the Bronx Zoo occasioned more merriment than terror. A twitter account was set up in the snake's name, and it reported back from the Art Museum (10 a.m.), the Empire State Building (3 p.m.), Ray's Pizza (5 p.m.) and Wall Street (8 p.m.). It was tweeted by the Mayor, and Ellen Degeneres welcomed it to NYC, but told it to stay away from Times Square "which" she said, "is a zoo!" Finally it was found in a dark corner of the reptile house, not 100 feet from its cage. Our heroine is now going from back-room obscurity to Special Attraction, and a naming contest is going on. I'm going to submit "Slyther Lynn" and "Cleo" (one of her famous ancestors killed Cleopatra).

Often-seen subway rats are another cause for dark humor, and of course, rampant speculation. The subway news has it that there is going to be a massive population explosion this summer, which might be true, as 75% of the city exterminators were laid off. I took Jan's picture in front of a giant (20 foot?) rat on Wall Street -- not what you are thinking -- someone told me that unions put it in front of non-union businesses. Well, I guess that could apply to Wall Street, too.

Bedbugs are also back in the news; landlords are going to be required to spray ALL the apartments near an infested unit: up, down, right, and left. People are being careful about where they buy their clothes and "fleamarkets" are less popular right now. But New Yorkers seem to take a perverse pride in their wildlife, except for pigeons. It's the non-wild life I worry about. How can those BIG dogs live in such tiny apartments?

I was really mystified about what picture to choose for this; finally decided that the terror factor of an Egyptian Cobra was outweighed by the gross-you-out vision of a highly-magnified bedbug, or up-close Rattus rattus rattus. (At last: I knew someday I would get to use the official name of that rat!) Sweet dreams, everyone.

MISSION: 97TH STREET

At the end of the day, it's so good to get off the subway and head for my home away from home. Even though I can't see much from my window but a brick wall and a church steeple, maybe that's what Angela Merici saw when she lived next to a church in 16th Century Brescia, Italy. And I'm warm and well fed, unlike the homeless on this night when we are expecting subzero temperatures in New York City.

But today I was feeling a little like a stranger in a strange land; I miss being close to nature, even if it's only to look out at my back yard. They don't have any back yard here, no front yard either (you just walk into the buildings right off the street). There's no place to plant flowers or a tomato. The school next door doesn't have a playground--for recess, I'm told, they just close the street for play.

It's easier to cope when I remind myself that this is a missionary experience. Our sisters who went to New Mexico in the early 1900s missed Kentucky in the same way I miss nature; the Ursulines who came in the early 1800s from a well-ordered Bavarian city must have had a shock when they got to Louisville, and Angela surely must have missed her rural home and vineyards when she moved to a typical medieval city! We go where we are called, because our true homes are in the heart of God. And of course there are other forms of beauty here: the architectural embellishments on buildings are remarkable, there are parks here and there, and trees planted in the median along Broadway. Oh, and did I mention that I went to Lincoln Center to the opera the other night? The sisters know someone who gives them free tickets--we saw a stunning performance of Simon Boccanegra. In the subway tunnels last week we were treated to a Peruvian folk ensemble, jazz, Cajun, a Chinese stringed instrument, breakdancing and mime...this is not a bad place to be "exiled." And there is beauty everywhere, if we just look.

STATUS: UNEMPLOYED

After a 33-year career as a college biology professor and/or adminstrator, and a six-year elected position as leader of my religious community, it happened--I joined the ranks of the unemployed. I've never been "between jobs" before, and it made me empathize with the unemployed (of course, sisters are never really unemployed: we are always seeking to do the will of God and furthering the mission of our community...and besides, someone will always find something for us to do)!


But as a newly "unemployed" person, I began to notice things. For example, when someone meets you, the first thing they want to know is what you DO. They don't particularly want to know who you ARE (like, an Ursuline Sister of Maple Mount, Kentucky; a native New Mexican of Irish-Scottish-Austrian descent; a lover of nature, including insects; an incurable optimist...) no, they want to know what you DO. Well! does saying you're "between jobs" make you sound like a loser? So I found myself saying that I was a "former" this or that, which seemed somehow unsatisfactory and even unhealthy. But there I was--no title, no salary--a situation many of us are experiencing these days.

I was lucky; I got to take advantage of a transition program that my community offered me, which gave me the time to think about what I should do next, and to explore this new "self" and what it might have the potential to become. Stay tuned and I'll tell you what I learned about transitions...