Love in Philly

on the BlackStar Film Festival & intimacy

As I mentioned in Sunday's Little Deaths and Little Delights, I visited Philly to see my friends Nina and Drew and to attend the BlackStar film festival. Below is what I found there. Enjoy :)

***

The first event of my trip was a mildly intimate premiere party for the documentary film Expanding Sanctuary directed by Kristal Sotomayor. I hadn’t even picked up my press pass yet and all I had in my stomach was Eggo waffles from earlier that morning and a just finished Dunkin' chai. We arrived in time to get two of their last remaining drink tickets and sat at the bar next to the drag queen. Before we could get the bartender’s attention to order, the heartfelt speeches began and we were suddenly in the center of the immigration rights activist community of Philadelphia. We snapped our fingers while each speaker spoke to the community organizer sections of our souls. 

After picking up my pass, we sat in a booth at a pizza shop and I was filled in on the lore of Nina and Drew’s Philly dramas. We only got through the tip of the iceberg before realizing we were late for the opening night screening. From the highest balcony’s side-view seating, we watched Dreams in Nightmares by Shatara Michelle Ford and I was overwhelmed with emotion while watching the Black director and Black cast answer questions onstage, looking ever so elegant and being ever so honest.

On Friday I woke up to a dark and empty room, forced to fend for myself in this new city (Nina was at work). I took the train to Center City and watched a moving film about artists and Haitian elders returning to the 1937 massacre of Haitians living in the Dominican Republic under Trujillo’s dictatorship. By the responses in the dark theater I could tell I, a Dominican, was surrounded by Haitians. To learn about this massacre in this way was a poignant feeling. I am not well versed on the political history of the island and I have not previously experienced having my identity attached to the evil side of history. I left the theater holding the lifelong duty that comes with this kind of acknowledgement and an aching to call my politically radical grandfather, whose story of committing to the revolution in the 60s I have uncovered over the past few years. He was busy listening to music so he asked me to call back later. That evening we talked about when I could visit him, and when he forgot my name his wife took the phone and spoke to me in rapid spanish while on the receiving end I worked to keep my head above water. I fared better than expected.

We were supposed to go to a party later that night but the tickets sold out. Instead, we watched the Olympics and I fell in love with Suni Lee. We went to Wawa and Rita’s to get a pretzel and water ice so I could experience a true Philly snack. I don’t think I’m a fan of dipping pretzels in water ice but then again maybe it was the mango flavor that threw me off. Throughout the weekend Nina’s very Puertorican father – who, in the face of company, acts just like my Puertorican mother – drove us around offering me a personal tour of Philadelphia. He made me laugh from the backseat by telling stories of him and Nina’s mother. 

That night we laid in the dark, ready for bed, talking about our lives. While she gave herself therapy and I saw my old and current reflections in the man she spoke of (he is also a Taurus), I thanked the world for the gift of friendship. I decided, definitively, that I loved Philly because in it I could find this irreplaceable intimacy. After an hour or so of talking and a recorded declaration to “lock in to life,” we went to sleep.

The next day we walked around South street and went into stores selling clothing and accessories for strip club dancers and/or sex toys. I must say that I was heavily inspired by what we saw and I now have new takes on accessorizing that I cannot wait to trial. I tried a Philly cheesesteak and Nina put on her newly bought bamboo style hoop earrings, arm cuff, and waist beads. I kept telling her how beautiful she looked as she sassily flapped her blue handheld fan. She looked just like her mother, and my mother, and herself. She looked like a woman. She looked like our island.

We took the bus and trolley to West Philly to meet Drew, his girlfriend, and their highschool friends so that he could perform his DJ set. As we arrived at the park, a thunderstorm settled in and so we moved to a parking garage. We crowded into their friend’s car as Drew took the front seat and turned the five seater into a club. The owner of the car climbed into the trunk because the bass was better back there. I enjoyed every moment.

The Marias were having a concert at 8:00pm that night and at 7:30 Nina and I decided to go. This was her second time seeing them but I had never even listened to them before. Those are my favorite kind of concerts - the kind where I will come out knowing more music than I did before. When the security guard saw my ring she asked me “have you guys set a date yet?” In response to my hesitancy she apologized for assuming it was an engagement ring. I assured her it was an engagement ring but that I wasn’t engaged – at least not in the way she assumed. I didn’t feel like explaining my whole engagement philosophy to her, though I have a feeling she would have been very nice about it. Inside I got a pear margarita in a really cool cup and we had a blast. When we got home we indulged in our leftover halal and slept soundly.

On my last day in Philly I was once again on my own. I saw a couple of short films and walked a lot. I remembered that it was the first day of my Hot Literati season and thus I began writing. 

During the bus ride back to New York I mused on BlackStar and the legacy it will leave on me. Whether it was the festival, Philadelphia, or my friend’s home I’m not sure, but this weekend has left me bearing the comforting weight of horizontal (within my generation) and vertical (with generations above and below) intimacy. I came home to my grandma, mom, and brother waiting to eat dinner with me and the news that a possible long lost cousin of mine has found his way to us. That night I went out on the balcony, watched more BlackStar films from my computer screen, and wrote a messy, mindless poem about how to be loved is to be known. 

I hope over the next few weeks of heightened intimacy that we have together, you will engage with me and I with you. To be loved is to be known. I want you to know me, and I want to know you too.

All Love,

Vic