Massachusetts I

 

Jen Barclay was there to meet me.  (If you’ve read Frolicking on a Headless Ostrich about cultural adventures in Bangkok, or Anchors Aweigh about a short cruise out of Keelung, then you have read her name before.)  We had initially planned to go to Irene Zydek’s home for a nightcap, but as it was quite late, we drove directly to Jen’s Mom’s home in Hull.  Mom was already asleep, though she was in Jen’s room having decided to let me sleep in hers.  How unexpected and kind!  I wasn’t able to stay awake for more than an hour and was soon slumbering soundly. 

When I woke on Saturday, the house was quiet, so I showered, dressed and went downstairs.  Linda had waited in Jen’s room until she heard me descend, at which point I could hear her readying above me.  Jen herself was still asleep on the sofa in the living room.  I quite liked the design of the house, and indeed the appearance of the other houses in the area.  (This is a snap from Google Maps; I didn’t take any pictures in Hull.)

When the ladies were active, we had some snacks and coffee, and I walked the dog with Linda.  Linda’s West Highland Terrier is called Izibella Rose, and Jen assures me that she is rather butch.  (I didn’t get enough time with her to confirm this.)  The ladies call her Izzy, while Jen calls her mom Billy.  We pottered for a bit, and then Jen and I took a scenic route back to the airport area, where Irene lives.  Irene Zydek is the mother of a colleague of mine.  I’ve met her several times in Taiwan.  She spent her working years in the air, as cabin crew for one of the American airlines – I forget which one.  Her son, Ken, has lived in Taiwan for at least as long as I have.  Although we’d moved in close circles, I’d not met him until he started working with me, which I think was a decade ago.  (I have been at the same school for 20 years, and there have been so many people in and out over that time, it’s really hard for me to remember who came when and who all was there at any given point in the past.)  Anyhoo, his mom has visited several times.  Irene has now retired, and she declared her February 2024 visit to be her last.  At that time, I had my second gallery showing, presenting my home after renovations subsequent to my roommate moving out.  Irene joined her son at Millford. 

Leading up to my own trip to the US, I got a photo via Facebook Messenger from Jen Barclay, one showing her, Ken and Peggy in a picture together.  At first I assumed it was a picture from way back in the early days of my Taiwanese life, but then I realised that it was quite recent.  I didn’t know that Jen knew Ken, and that by extension, she also knew Irene.  (Peggy is a good friend of theirs.  I did meet her when she lived in Taiwan, but we didn’t end up in the same circle of friends.)  Together with this picture, Jen said that Irene had invited me to her place while I was in Boston.  In truth, I hadn’t really realised that I’d made much of an impression on her, but I was thrilled that she’d invited me.

Jen drove us to hers.  Irene had prepared brunch for us, including eggs, fruit, bread and cookies.  We ate it on the porch under a beautiful blue sky on a clear summer’s day.  As we caught up, we enjoyed a mimosa.  This picture, too, is taken from Google Maps; Irene’s unit is the one on the ground floor.  She lives in an area of Boston called Winthrop, which looks out over Broad Sound and into the Atlantic Ocean. 

Soon it was time to head to Salem.  Jen would drive me again.  Here I would be staying with Rob and Christine Madore, whom I know from Taiwan.  I met Rob in the early days, and he also knew Peggy and Jen.  In fact, he, Jen and one or two others shared an apartment in downtown Taichung.  Their building had a great swimming pool, and we’d frequently have fun around that pool.  Jen and Rob had not stayed in touch after leaving Taiwan, and they were seeing each other for the first time today.  When Rob lived in Taiwan, he moved to Tainan for a while.  There he met Christine.  Several years later, they were married and eventually settled in Salem. 

Arriving now, it was a happy reunion.  Rob’s parents were there, too, and I’d met them at Rob’s wedding in Kaohsiung years ago.  I met Rob and Christine’s two lovely kids, Alex and Abigail.  His parents left and then Rob took Jen and me on a brief walk through parts of Salem.  We stopped for a pint, and then bought some more beverages to bring back to the house.  The four adults sat outdoors on the deck that Rob built and blethered about old times and the intervening years.  Christine had been a city counselor, and she astonished us with stories about what that entailed.  What shocked me most was that public servants have to make their address known, which meant that at least one nutter stalked her for a spell. 

Jen was heading on to New Hampshire (or Vermont) to spend the weekend with a cousin there.  When she departed, the rest of us headed out for dinner nearby.  It was now already approaching bedtime for the kids, which kind of meant bedtime for me, too, grey as I am.  The Madore’s home has three storeys above ground and a basement.  The basement is Rob’s man-cave, and it was here that I would sleep.  There was a sofa bed, and I had a bathroom all to myself.

On Sunday, I rode the commuter train into Boston.  The Madores were committed to the Salem Family Bike Ride, and didn’t join me.  I’d been warned to not expect much from the rail service.  The carriages were old, and the infrastructure dated.  Jen had talked about it.  Rob and Christine had talked about it.  A friend I would be meeting later today talked about it, as did the friends I’d catch up with later in New York.  The commuter train was late.  The carriage was old.  I’d bought a ticket on the app.  One conductor came to check my digital ticket, and then slipped a paper ticket (not unlike the ones we’d get as kids to go on rides at the amusement park) into a slot cut into the fabric of the seat in front of mine.  Another conductor came by later and collected the paper ticket. How antiquated!

I arrived at North Station, from which I wandered about semi-aimlessly.  I had plotted attractions on Google Maps, but found myself disinterested in rushing to see it all.  I strolled for a little while along the Freedom Trail.  I descended into the catacombs of the metro.  It looked very old and surprisingly dirty.  At length, I decided to visit at least one of the places I’d planned to see, and so I descended into the metro once again.  The line I needed came up to the surface and proceeded level with the traffic, not unlike a European Tram. The driver made some fun announcements.  Departing each stop, he spouted, “Welcome aboard the red comet.  I am the master of transportation.”  He then continued his announcement in the voice of a horse racing commentator.  

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I alighted at the station closest to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.  The woman whose name is given to the museum was an art collector and philanthropist, and stated in her will that her collection should be displayed in a museum “for the education and enjoyment of the public forever.”  Arriving there, I now learned that entrance was staggered through the day, and that the next available slot was at 12:00.  I’d arranged to meet Christopher Szczerba at 12:30 for lunch in Cambridge, and I still needed to get there, so I swallowed a bitter pill and skipped this attraction.  It was worth it, though.

Chris worked with me in Taichung for only a year.  He had come to Taiwan after finishing his studies.  He’d arrived on a Fulbright scholarship.  The Fulbright Program is an American cultural exchange program.  “Via the program, competitively-selected American citizens including students, scholars, teachers, professionals, scientists and artists may receive scholarships or grants to study, conduct research, teach, or exercise their talents abroad; and citizens of other countries may qualify to do the same in the United States.” (Wikipedia, “Fulbright Program”)  Chris had been placed at a government school, and after fulfilling his obligations, he decided to stay another year and came to my school.  He was great at teaching, and his positive, vivacious personality was effervescent.  Not only was he great in the office and classroom, he also sang, and I attended one of his performances outside a local pub.  Fluent in both English and Italian, he was also learning Mandarin.  He and his boyfriend also joined me to watch a performance in one of Taichung’s theatres.  If I remember correctly, it was a choir performance, but I can’t be absolutely sure about that.

Christopher had driven down from New Hampshire to see me.  That journey had taken three hours.  We started with lunch, which he paid for.  Then we wandered about Cambridge, heading towards Harvard.  I felt drawn to this place, as if to walk across its rarified campus could make me intelligent.  While the campus tour was somewhat disappointing – I don’t really know what it was I thought I’d find there – the conversation was anything but.  

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Our exchange was lively and lovely.  We spoke of his years in Taiwan, his reasons for going there and for coming home, and about the intervening years.  He has been with his current partner – who is an opera singer (!) and teaches the voice at Clark University in Worcester, Massachusetts – for several years.  As we walked, the weather changed.  It had been hot and humid all day, since I got on the commuter in Salem.  Now, the temperature dropped, the sky turned dark, and soon it was raining quite heavily.  We had to rush for cover and wait in doorways until it lightened enough to move on.  We stopped for a drink, and then it was time for Chris to head back north and for me to return to Salem.  I arrived just in time to have dinner with my hosts, and then it was time for the kids and the grey to slumber. 

On Monday, both Rob and Christine had to work.  Christine would do her work remotely at home, while Rob would drive into Boston.  After the kids had gone off to summer camp, Christine gave me a brief guided tour of Salem

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as she led me to the ticket office to purchase a seat on the Salem Trolley, and then she walked me to the pick-up point.  She then went home and I jumped on the trolley.  The trip lasted an hour or so, and there was commentary the whole way.  We passed a candy store that our guide claimed was the first in the US.  Ye Olde Pepper Companie, on its website, declares the same.  I was unable to find independent verification of this, so we’ll just accept that it’s true.  I made a mental note to go back there to find FUDGE!

We rode out to Winter Island, stopping to stretch our legs at the tiny harbour.  It’s not really an island, being connected to the mainland by an isthmus that separates Smith Pool from Juniper Cove.  Back in the vehicle, we passed Waikiki Beach, which, our guide claimed, was the first one to be named as such in the States.  He continued by explaining that the famous one in Hawaii was named first, but that the one here was named when Hawaii was still a territory and not yet a state.  Our guide was a little too much at times, although the information he offered was interesting.  Christine later told me that he is an amateur comedian, which explained his drive to be funny as he spoke.  I learned that the Parker Brothers, manufacturers of games, were from Salem.  We passed a house that had been their home.  I learned that, in the early Monopoly sets, the place holders were made of wood, and there were two fewer: the ship and the top hat (or was that the dog) were added after one of the world wars.  (I researched this while writing and found pretty disparate articles on the topic.  Whether true or not, it was an assertion that stuck with me.  The history of Monopoly is actually quite interesting and full of intrigue, deceit and, frankly, fraud.)

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Afterward, I returned to Christine’s.  She would accompany me out again during a break in her day, this time to the Peabody Essex Museum, where her membership card would get me free access.  Yay!  She would get me in and then return to her duties at home.  I also got a separate ticket to view the Yin Yu Tang Chinese home.  This is a house that was disassembled in China’s Anhui Province, and transported bit by bit to Salem, where it was reassembled on the museum premises.  What a marvel!  (The only other place I’d viewed such a phenomenon was in Reykjavik, where historical homes were transported, whole or in pieces, from within the city to just outside it and reconstructed for the Open Air Museum.  Entrance to the house was staggered, as it was to many of the attractions I’d still enjoy on this trip, so I decided to get a sandwich and coffee in the museum café while I waited.  The meal was tasty, and the house magnificent!

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Tickets allowed only 30 minutes in the house, but returning into the rest of the museum, I was in for a treat!  This place was expansive and the collection truly magnificent.  I spent several hours there.  

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Once I started losing focus, I walked to Ye Olde Pepper Companie to get sweets.  Then I got some beverages and returned to the Madores.  I was soon off again to Seagrass Salem Dispensary.  Weed for recreational use is legal in Massachusetts and several other states.  I stopped using it ages ago, but the opportunity to partake in a place where it was legal was too much to give up.  I bought gummies.  I had one before dinner, and it certainly affected me, but I was nevertheless conversant.  When bedtime came around after the meal, I ate another one.  It was pleasant to go down that rabbit hole again.  There were ten gummies in the pack, so I had eight to carry along with me.  I hadn’t initially thought that I might find myself in a place where it might not be legal, but my host brought it up, so I checked.  My planned destinations were all within states that had already legalised weed.