Ar Larv Nar Yark

One of the best things about living on the east coast is the security that I'm always within a brief bus or train ride of a couple other spectacular cities, and just a couple hours from my favorite of all cities.

I was on Long Island for business early this week, supervising 800 teenagers who were heading back to their respective countries after a year in Gibsonia, Pennsylvania, or something to that effect.
My duties were:
-Wake up at 3am. Wait for buses to arrive. Direct sleepy Scandinavians to the Rest Area. Direct my sleepy self to the cafeteria to take a secret nap behind the trash bins.
-Supervise the Rest Area. Make sure children are not making out with each other. We don't need any half-Austrian half-Swedish babies on our watch.
-Keep track of a tall gentleman named Jens
-Make sure students do not steal extra pasta salad. Steal pasta salad for myself.
-Keep the one Mexican girl company as she waits for her ride. Ana told me that she didn't hate living in the suburbs of Cleveland this year (to my surprise), and that she hailed from the "Joo-ca-tan" Peninsula. (Were I Alvy Singer I may have accused her of anti-semitisim, but I thought her accent was charming.)
-Wait for buses to leave. Watch Italian children hug each other and cry for for five minutes per person. Begin loading buses an hour early for this purpose.
-Cry on my own bus home, because it turns out they rented a walk-in freezer to bring us back to Baltimore

My new friend Joseph was kind enough to make some educational videos for those of us who are not familiar with his home city.

Here is Joseph speaking in a Long Island accent:



Here is Joseph giving us the Penn Station intercom experience:



You're welcome.