I was in the United States with my ex from February 20 to March 15. We visited altogether seven different places in the eastern parts of the USA and on the Caribbean Sea, and the trip could therefore be entitled as a highlight sightseeing experience of my life. Within a couple of weeks we were lucky enough to visit the historical streets of the French Quarter in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, enjoy picturesque beaches on a beautiful Spanish Virgin Island as well as dig into the cultural variety of New York City. However, the nearer the end of our trip came and the more I shared my experiences with my family and friends later, the more I was sure that compared to cultural objects, many of which now live their own life, and natural objects, which are literally alive, nothing forwards the vibe of the life there better than contacts with local people. Before leaving Estonia I was generally disappointed in people. While flying back from New York to London I realised that I like people and I'm happy to be one of them.
Before landing at Chicago's O'Hare International Airport on the evening of February 21 I was never really fascinated by the United States as a country nor its culture in comparison to that of Europe. What I probably thought back then was that almost everything travelling to America could offer me is intellectually limited and thus culturally secondary. There were, I think, only three experiences I would have liked to have in the land of opportunities. First, I definitely wanted to visit New York. In later years my wish had a lot to do with Sex and the City, one of the greatest TV-shows that literally personified a place in a superb way. Secondly, I was very fond of the Southern United States and New Orleans in particular, for its ethnical and cultural eclecticism and covert traditions caught my interest in a more profound way than any certain historical event could have done. And last but not least, I was very interested in the nature of the West because it represents to me the vastness where Americans have taken their energy from and which is something one can never experience in Europe. During our trip I managed to visit New York as well as New Orleans, both of which I consider to be my favourite cities of the world (probably due to my strong fixation on these cities beforehand), so I managed to fulfil two of above-mentioned goals. However, earlier than that going to the United States would have probably never come under question as long as my interest in European cultures had not been exhausted. The USA was something lower for me, and I was exceptionally proud that I lived in Europe.
What made the situation worse was my general prejudice towards American people. Without wanting to concentrate on all the stereotypes that prevail in Europe and reflect both superiority and arrogance (and are thus exaggerations), I know now that the emotion that governed my judgement back then was fear. I thought, for example, that as Americans tend to be more obsessed with traditional values (including virility) they are also more homophobic, and for me that would mean cautiousness and insecurity in public. More than that, I made a very clear distinction between Americans and Europeans saying that the social context I was going to invade in for nearly a month has only a few similarities to that of the Old World. Even though my ratio reminded me that I should concentrate on the bridge that links the two continents together, and despite the fact that my shrink suggested me not to worry about the temporary change of environment as America is not North Korea, I was still quite frightened. It's logical to conclude from all of this that these negative thoughts were there to be proven wrong. Today I'm rather afraid of Estonians but I love Americans, and it seems to be a normal state of my mind.
The reason why I look back upon our trip with such warm emotions is largely caused by what I already referred to above. In almost every city we visited my contact with locals was substantially different from how I usually get along with people here in Estonia. For example, in Chicago, which was our first stop ever in the USA, we had a very funny welcome-to-the-city experience. Having just arrived from the airport, we were looking for the way to our hotel in the Loop, which surprisingly seemed to lack of people on a Saturday evening. Suddenly a guy came towards us on the street and posed us a highly inconvenient question in a very straightforward yet friendly way. Without being sure whether or not we had misheard him, our faces expressed pure indifference until he repeated his question: "Are you guys hustlers? I'm sorry, but you look like you are..." I don't remember precisely what we replied, but I know I was pretty confused about the whole situation at the beginning. However, later at the hotel when I was trying to fall asleep after a nice warm shower, a big smile appeared in my face. I was not defeated by the fact that a regular bloke on the street probably thought that I have sex with guys for money. Not at all. To be honest, I was pretty flattered. The direct attention we caught quite shortly after having arrived - it was basically our first hour in the New World - turned it into a very positive experience and I didn't feel as a victim of insult. In Estonia, if someone stands out in public (not that I think I normally get so much attention), he or she will probably be directly or indirectly critisised. Even if someone has positive thoughts about how this person looks like, the latter will never be aware of them. I am glad I was not in Estonia at that time.
Another motive for the expression of my vanity (in my mental condition, I consider moderate vanity to be a good thing) has to do with our stay in New Orleans, Louisiana. Nearly as in the Windy City, we had just brought the luggage into our guesthouse and were about to get acquainted to the downtown when three very young yet rather handsome guys contacted us spontaneously on the street and invited us to enjoy the Carnival with them. Canal Street and the French Quarter were filled with people on that evening, for the world famous Mardi Gras events were taking place there. And instead of enjoying the event yearningly from the distance, we dug into the crowds and became a part of the Big Easy. In Estonia it's quite difficult for me to make new friends, and I tend to be quite shy in the situations that require from me a deeper social engagement than I've got used to. In the United States it was not an issue for me. Not at all. When in Estonia I have always excluded myself from other people claiming that I want to belong to the group yet have a specific role in it, then particularly in New Orleans I realised that even an occasional blending in with others gives me a lot of strength and positive energy. Therefore I also had to correct my thoughts about the value of mass culture. During Mardi Gras I concluded that a piece of culture which Modernist elitarians would claim to be unworthy but which has the support of many people who fill their lives with it is not necessarily worse than, for example, the literature of Kafka or the cinema of Eisenstein. One shouldn't forget that masses too have the power.
Compared to other cities we visited in the US, the people in New Orleans were the friendliest. Again, when I have to examine side by side what I saw there with the way I see the life in Tallinn, things are quite different. People in Estonia desperately want to socialise but are very often afraid to do so, for it's easier to go on in the way things have always been done instead of grabbing the result one yearns for. Thus, Estonians prefer to avoid getting involved and therefore risk being unhappy. In New Orleans, on the other hand, direct communication is so elementary that introvertedness could under certain circumstances be interpreted as impoliteness. I was happy to experience there that even a slight expression of attention by someone who I would probably never meet again could actually make my day. When a driver sees you trying to locate where you are on the map and stops his car specifically for helping you, or when a cashier at Walgreens cracks a friendly joke on you, then of course you will realise what the Big Easy really means. Therefore I am very grateful to Cody, Anthony and Zach, who introduced us to New Orleans, the city which since the morning of our departure to Miami could be, according to Louis Armstrong, called as "the city where I left my heart".
The first impression I had of Miami was rather negative. Was it caused by the fact that we were sleeping at the airport the previous night and therefore could neither get proper sleep nor wash ourselves in the morning, or had it anything to do with my insecurity about my looks under these circumstances, I don't know. At the end of our first day in South Beach I was slightly disappointed in the city, for although the people were all toned, tanned and stylish it looked like they had lost everything that makes a person visually interesting for me. Therefore there seemed to be a lot of false glamour as well. However, the following days changed my views radically, and now I think that out of all the cities we visited Miami was the biggest surprise.
As South Beach has a large gay community and the locals don't make a fuss of seeing two guys showing their affection for one another in public, even walking down the local streets can be an extraordinary event for an Estonian homosexual who in his own familiar environment is probably quite neurotic about the fact that he likes to take it up the ass. Local guys there are not afraid of approaching someone who they think is physically attractive, and as a "Hi! How are you?" is an easy start for a conversation, no-one sees a reason for concealing an important part of one's identity. On the contrary, being in Miami gave me a lot of sexual confidence. I realised there that intellectualisations about why it is so hard to be gay in Estonia cannot be used as an excuse for one's denial-based behaviour. Showing another person that one likes a certain aspect of him or her (in the most general meaning) is not something to be ashamed of. Everyone wants to be happy. Eastern Europeans just have to overcome some additional obstacles while reaching for that. That's all.
During our whole journey open attitudes toward sex and sexuality dominated. A couple of funny incidents happened to us in Puerto Rico. First we spent five days on a beautiful island called Vieques, which has quickly become an important resort for gay and lesbian travellers in the Carribbean region. As we stayed in a small town where there are no ATMs and roosters play the role of an alarmclock, we didn't really expect meeting many people of our own kind. However, once at the local supermarket a regular guy turned to my ex and honestly, without warning, tried to "help" us by suggesting that if we are looking for a hook-up we should go to the local yacht club and meet his colleague there for this purpose. In the morning of our departure we found out that because of horrible weather conditions the ferry on which we planned to leave the island has been cancelled, and therefore we had to change our plans. Together with a nice lesbian couple who also stayed at our guesthouse (owned by another two lesbians) we managed to find a solution to our problem, and we arrived successfully in San Juan. There I got some attention from students on a school bus, and one of them waved me in a humorous way as if he were gay, too. I replied with the same gesture, and all the students began to laugh. Usually I feel really bad in such situations, as I tend to overrationalise things and interpret them in the most negative way. In Old San Juan, when I listened to the laughter of the kids on the bus I realised that they did not laugh at me because they thought I looked somewhat ridiculous. They laughed at the joke we were all involved in, and that was positive. Although being gay is not and has never been the central issue of my life, it was nice to admit that neither is it for other people.
Compared to all American (and Puerto Rican) cities we visited during our trip, I would glorify New York the most. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw the skyline of Manhattan through the window of the bus we took from Washington, DC (which, except for Georgetown, didn't impress me that much). Walking on Fifth Avenue early in the morning, a coffee in one hand and a doughnut in other, and yearning for a piece of jewellery in front of a display window of Tiffany's as Audrey Hepburn once did is a must-do in New York. Being a part of the crowds on Times Square and running with people along Broadway is something I have never experienced anywhere. Admiring masterpieces by Matisse, Picasso, Pollock, Warhol, van Gogh, de Chirico, and Rousseau in the Museum of Modern Art, which I now consider to be one of the best art museums I have visited, and enjoying the view from the Cloisters on the Hudson River in Bronx belong to my lightest memories of New York. I also enjoyed small parks of Manhattan and Tudor City, all surrounded by wonderful buildings and scattered with men walking dogs and children on the playgrounds - being there on a foggy spring day was almost surreal. Looking across the East River next to the Queensboro Bridge, which was captured by Woody Allen in his Manhattan and has now become an iconic symbol, was something I definitely wanted to do. Even returning to our apartment after a long day out was not a disappointment, for knowing that somewhere there, near Madison Avenue and 72nd Street, lived marvellous Carrie Bradshaw put a smile in my face. The pure fact that New York City is full of cultural references of large significance on a global scale means that I was never bored there.
What I enjoyed most in the Big Apple was not admiring famous landmarks nor shopping in Saks Fifth Avenue or Bloomingdale's but being a part of the atmosphere of the city that never sleeps, especially while walking down its streets and avenues. The kind of anonymity I have always been looking for... well, I got it. In Estonia I have an eye contact with most people that come towards me on the street. Soon after the end of our trip I had a realisation that it is probably caused by my insecurity and I probably do it to find out people's thoughts of me. In New York, the only eye contacts I had were with another gay guys. It seems to me that as people there have got used to the variety the world has to offer being somewhat different is not really such a big deal. The same thing can be said about the attitudes of local homosexuals. In Eastern Europe, the gay guys who take care of their looks and have successfully become a part of the gay scene very often seem to think that being gay, looking good and having many friends is something exclusive. In the United States, on the other hand, a healthier kind of attitude towards one's sexuality seemed to prevail and people are more interested in who one is in general, not who he or she sleeps with. At Estonian gay venues one might easily feel as on a meat market. In the USA I realised that it doesn't necessarily have to be so.
During the trip I also had several prearranged encounters. In Miami we had a meeting with Pedro, one of my first MSN contacts who I have known for about six years. As we stayed in South Beach and were interested in seeing some other parts of Miami, he was kind enough to show us around. As on that evening there was a reggae concert taking place in Bayfront Park filled with pot-smoking Jamaicans, listening to the music of Bob Marley reminds me of the time I spent there with my friends. In New York I met Sebastien, a French researcher from the Columbia University, who I have known for only six months but who, I think, knows me more than many other people. When I look back on the evening we spent together, I perceive an image of the two of us walking through dark and cold Central Park, NYPD cars and yellow cabs driving on the distance. In New York I also met Alon, who I had three encounters and great fun with. We went to two lounges in Hell's Kitchen to see a drag show, and even though at the beginning I was suspicious of whether I might like it or not, I really enjoyed it. On my last day in New York he also introduced me to his friends, and when I was running from his place through the Central Park to our apartment in Upper East Side to get my luggage and be off to the airport, I realised that to me he somehow represented everything positive New York has to offer and I almost felt like a Pavlov's dog.
What our trip to the USA gave me exceeded all my expectations, and I managed to do everything I had previously planned. In fact, there were so many spontaneous incidents we experienced that missing, for example, the Arlington National Cemetery or the Metropolitan Museum of Art would not have worsened my mood. However, there were four things I didn't manage to do in real. I couldn't go to a tour on a typical Louisiana bayou, something I've always wanted to see. We also didn't have a chance to admire a very unique bioluminescent bay in Vieques, Puerto Rico. In the MoMA, I couldn't see The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dalí, one of my favourite Surrealist works, just because I had no idea that the piece belongs to the collection of the museum. Another thing I missed in New York cripples my heart the most. At the last night of our stay in New York Alon invited me to the Chelsea Hotel, which has always been of big significance for me due to the fact that it used to be a residence for celebrities such as Leonard Cohen, Janis Joplin, Bob Dylan, Jean-Paul Sartre, Jack Kerouac, and the Andy Warhol Superstars, all of whom are important to me. Although earlier that day I had a stroll with my ex in Chelsea and we also admired the façade of the hotel, I was sick in the evening and wasn't thus able to go out. The next day Alon told me that instead of the Chelsea Hotel he went to his friend's cocktail party and, as a surprise, no-one else than Debbie Harry performed there. As Blondie is one of my favourite bands of all time, I was extremely sad that I couldn't pay farewell to New York in the late 1970s way. Despite the above-mentioned things I absolutely loved my stay in the USA. I liked myself there more than I do in Estonia. I forgot all the problems I have in Tallinn. Even these sudden headaches I regularly have here were more like a bad dream when I was in the United States. What tops it all... I was happy.
When I flew back to Europe I was still under the enigmatic impact New York had left on me. At Heathrow I heard after a very long time people speaking Estonian, and that brought me back to reality. Furthermore, in Stockholm we took an Estonian Air flight to Tallinn, and what shocked me most was the way a flight attendant welcomed us. Compared to the English "Hi!", which sounds so soft and friendly, Estonian "Tere!" reminds me of the raucous voice of Joseph Goebbels. At that moment I knew that it is almost mandatory for me to keep the positive energy I got from the US.
In Tallinn I realised that my behaviour compared to the way I acted before the beginning ouf our trip had changed in at least two aspects. First, I did not look at the faces of other people in public so that I occasionally missed the people to whom I would have normally said "Tere!". Secondly, as the traffic lights in the USA are much bigger than those in Estonia, the latter seemed to be extraordinarily tiny, and every time I wanted to cross the street, I was happy that I was living according to American mode. I hoped that I could keep this view of life. I hoped that the traffic lights in Tallinn would always be small for me. Now these lights are not small any more, and I look for an eye contact with people on the street.
What gives me strength and reminds me that life is not as meaningless as it sometimes seems is an image of me at my second night in Manhattan. I had just met Alon, we had fucked, and I was on my way back to my apartment. It was 3 o'clock in the morning, and I was walking down 59th Street. I was listening to the voices of the night, and the smell of horse shit found its way into my nostrils. There were no people out except for a couple of street preachers who were trying to spread the message of Jesus. I looked up and saw the skyscrapers in lights, and being stunned by such an urban beauty I suddenly realised: "This is what life means. This is where I want to be. This is what I want to do. I'm in New York. Everything is possible here. I want to be a part of it. I am a part of it. I'm happy." And I was happy.
