Giornale

The Empire State Plaza, NY

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the beginning of April in Saratoga Springs.  At Case Center, we hopped inside of Joseph's car. Reshma got into the passenger seat, Mark and Emily squeezed into the back with me.  Joseph turned the engine on and began to blast music from the stereo, as we quickly pulled away from Skidmore. Once we hit the highway we began some small talk which quickly grew to funny anecdotes.  Thirty-five minutes later we began to notice tall buildings in the distance, Albany.

When we first got to the Empire State Plaza, I began to notice clear signs of axiality. Initially, there was something comforting about being in the plaza because it reminded me of New York.  Gradually, I began to feel uncomfortable due to several factors. The agency buildings made me feel eerie because they were so dehumanized, as they weren’t named but numbered. As we moved across the plaza I began to question the architecture, the structures didn’t go together at all.  The large capital building was way too elegant to be placed in the center of the agency buildings. The lack of color also created an uneasy feeling within me, there was no emotion or intensity in the plaza.

Due to the nice weather, people were taking advantage of the plaza.  A group along the southern edge of the plaza were dancing to rap blasting through a small stereo.  Mothers and fathers pushed their little ones in strollers up and down the edges of the fountain. A young man skated along the perimeter of the plaza.  Gradually, more and more people appeared, but it was clear they weren’t workers, just average civilians making use of the space.

When we were given twenty-five minutes to explore the area, Mark and I decided that we needed to find a bathroom.  From the bronze firefighter memorial, we tried to search for a nearby cafe or restaurant, we quickly realized that neither was in sight.  We decided to go inside the massive Egg and made our way down an escalator into the concourse below the plaza. When we were on the escalator, I was reminded of the scene from ‘Us’, when Adelaide, the main character, rides down the obnoxiously long escalator to the tunnel below (this made me incredibly anxious).  The concourse was empty, besides a few homeless people. Mark and I followed several signs directing us to the bathrooms. I was struck by the massive size of the bathroom.  A line of twenty sinks covered two walls. It was quite odd that there was only one soap dispenser. After using the bathroom, we both wanted to leave the concourse, but it was incredibly hard to find an exit.  This was apparent to two police officers who were trailing the concourse. They pointed us in the direction of a door, which had a very small ‘exit’ label. We raced down a hallway and up the stairs, which led us back up to the plaza.  It was strange because the stairs were hidden in plain sight. These stairs were purposed for easily allowing workers to go back to the agency buildings from the concourse.

After about an hour of exploring the space within the plaza and the concourse, we reached the church where the car was parked.  The plaza left me anxious and oddly overwhelmed, I was glad to be leaving. The car ride back was my favorite part of the trip. Initially, everyone was exhausted, but once we realized that we were mistakenly going to the Druthers in Saratoga, we began to hysterically laugh.  The five of us starting talking about Rome and all of the things we want to do there. I told everyone about the time I was knocked down by a cyclist in Barcelona who elbowed me in the nose. Of course, everyone started laughing at my short story. It was at this point that I realized I found my Italy gang.  I found my basis. My people.