That was one of the welcoming signs posted on the wall at
the Kansas City (KC from now on) Airport which made me smile. I travel a lot
and I am surprised with the extent of the comparisons of an X place to Paris
across the world. I thought “well, another one of these…” I jumped into the
shuttle bus and made my way to the hotel and impatiently waited for the moment of reunion with my good old friend from Toronto. We haven’t seen each other for
ages. There is nothing like a good girlfriend. People pay tons of money to the
therapists but I prefer to pay for the hotel & flight for reunions. Even
the most serious and life-changing events taking place in one’s life can be
transformed into light & creamy conversations embellished with big laughter
that would make people turn around and wonder: What the hell they are laughing
so hard for?
The first night dinner was on Oya at Classic Cup on the
Plaza. Fireplace and candle light definitely contribute to the classy ambiance.
The dinner ended with a shared pumpkin pie (on the spicy side) so delicious that
we went back the following night just for that one slice. Next day began with a must-visit to the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art
(it is not just the collection but the building itself and the way it is
designed as a Museum, it can compete with the leading art museums around the
world) and continued with a play at Copaken Stage (rather than Spencer
Theatre!) The play The Who and the What is written by Ayad Akhtar (1970-),
directed by Eric Rosen, and is a comedy on the immigrant experience of a
widowed Pakistani man with two daughters. Conflicts between the father and his
American-born children, different interpretations of Islam and how it affects
the family relations are the highlights. What it means to be an American and Muslim
is major question that has been posed but definitely not answered especially
after 9/11.
Although the play was a moving one and is full with
contemporary issues of how to deal with one’s identity and love, I need to talk
about how we made it to the play. For some reason, we did not pay attention to
the venue and when we typed into our smart phones KC Repertory Theater. We were
happy that the theatre was within the walking distance to the Art Museum.
However, the one we made on time(!) was not the one we were supposed to be. It
was a different stage in a different neighbourhood and we realized it when we
had 5 minutes to the curtain-opening at 2 pm. See, it is not enough to have a
smart phone as I always joke about, the owner needs to be smart as well! I
called a taxi company and was told that that there was a waiting list. We
walked out, desperately. We needed a miracle to happen. I was so upset that my
birthday gift to Oya would be wasted in this manner. Let alone the total
dollars on the two tickets. Then we saw a young American couple looking for the
entrance of the theatre. Oya asked them which play they were going to see and
it turned out that they were in the wrong spot too for the very same play we
were literally missing while having the conversation. It was 2 pm but they had
a car and they knew where to go (Copaken Stage). They gave us a ride, very calm
and friendly the whole time. We only missed the very beginning of a 1.5 hr long
play, and the people checking our tickets were friendly enough that we needed
not to cry or make a scene to be accepted to the play. We were shown decent
seats at the balcony and enjoyed the play fully. The whole time, I was
thinking: How is that possible? Countless gratitude to our Angels (both of whom
have been to Istanbul and enjoyed the experience) who are disguised as human
beings on earth. Since the play itself was on the different interpretations of
Islam, me, the spiritual feminist, was experiencing something in awe. That was
the only thing that made focusing on the play a bit difficult for me. After the
play, we exchanged emails and was wondering how to appease the huge hunger we
have (obviously the adrenalin rush at 2 pm stopped that for a while). The
Angel-couple gave us another ride, this time to downtown KC, showed us around (e.g.
the opera building, which was modelled after the famous Sydney Opera), the KC
skyline and dropped us at a local restaurant called Anton’s. Good food, good
job!
We called a taxi whose driver was from Mombasa, Kenya (and
yes, very friendly too) and once at Classic Cup, we began a long conversation
about life, religion, Islam, miracles, and orgasmic taste of the zesty pumpkin
pie. It was still early and apparently we were still under the effect of the
adrenalin pumped into our system, plus the sugar now! That is why we asked the
waitress where to go after the pie-experience. Fred P Otts was the recommended
name, only 5 minutes walking distance (which we managed to make it a
20-min.one) As put wonderfully in one of the online reviews "the un-plaza bar
in the plaza", "you are transported far away from the hustle of the Country
Club Plaza elites", "the crowd is always interesting and, if you are friendly,
will surely meet some new friends to drink with." And guess what? We both are
friendly. I cannot go into the details of the wonderful time we spent there but
it would be enough to say we sure drew some attention in the midst of the
regulars. They did not hesitate to share their stories with us, some shocking,
some funny… The wonderful barmaid, Mmmm Marcy was the queen and clearly is
loved and respected by the whole local crowd. Her story of the
hockey-team dressing room visit as a child is a classic! The bar is frequented
by the staff who work around the fancy plaza restaurants and end their shift to
chill there. The rebellious blond Chef, who sat next to me for a long time
until his bar stool was taken by another guy the moment he stepped out for his
smoking break, did not even bother to take off his white apron (or rightly
thought that it added to his charm and kept it on intentionally). He was full of stories, strong opinions on "the land of freedom" and had a unique bitter-sweet laughter. Oya & I had a
great time and we both felt very grateful for the recommendation. OK, no more
details on the characters who wanted to become our friends, or even friends
with benefits. We had Jubelale
which is a winter warmer style beer
brewed by Deschutes, continued with water and disappointed the ones who insisted on buying more drinks for us. Jubelale is delicious and fits the holidays spirit when
it is -10C outside. Yes, our whole time in KC, it was very cold, much colder
than the average mid-November but the people had big warm, very warm hearts and
smiles. Apologies for the cliché saying but it helped us dealing with the cold.
Monday morning was dedicated to some window-shopping and
thanks to the wonderful (and genuinely friendly) salesperson Mike, we got to
taste an unusual rosemary latte by the local coffeehouse Kaldi's. It is named
after the Ethiopian goatherd who discovered the coffee plant, according to
popular legend. That is why their symbol is a jumping goat who got high on
caffeine! Lunch at good-old Panera (chain sandwich place) but the highlight of
all remains our non-stop conversations and sharing stories one after the other,
or speculation about pretty much anything (men-women relations, scepticism on online
dating, Oya Başak, the amazing Bogazici Professor of Literature who would
assign her students to enjoy life fully and fall in love). Outside was still very
cold and windy too. That is why the idea of a warm massage salon sounded so
attractive.
The dinner at Gram&Dun exceeded our expectations by far.
Yes, true, it was highly recommended but still… It has been some time since I
had such a richly flavourful and delicious meal. I won’t try to express it in
words. This feast was combined with a pre-birthday celebration and a wonderful
gift from Oya. It is made by a Canadian artist but she got it here from Phoenix
Gallery.
Tuesday morning, we squeezed a visit to the World War I
Museum. The volunteers were so eager to inform us about everything but the
whole concept of war and weapons are cumbersome for both of us so we probably
could not get the best out of it. Plus, the stress of arriving at the airport
on time. It was good to have the leftover cheese we saved for snack. And always
the half-jokingly asked question at the hotels during breakfast: How can you
not have cheese? Mistake! Thus, we bought our cheese and added to the hotel’s
breakfast menu of fried potatoes, pancakes, scrambles eggs, bacon and donuts. We
shook heads by the sight of the small kids around us whose plates were full of
crap and the parents seemed to be okay with it.
It is not easy to say goodbye and I feel particularly clumsy
at the airports. That is why our last latte sucked! The African goatherd Kaldi
punished us for choosing Starbucks. But as long as I keep on believing in
miracles, separations become lighter and easier to deal with. Remember, Oya got
my gift from Phoenix gallery? And unlike the ordinary migratory mortal birds,
phoenix is a long-lived bird that is regenerated or reborn at regular
intervals. It is like our friendship, like our tested sisterhood of the
traveling pants. We still don’t know how I fully fit into her pants and shoes
at the same time during my PhD defense at York in 2010 but that is another
story for later.
Our next meeting… Who
knows? Maybe in Paris, the Kansas City of France!
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