THE THINGS WE DO...: My crime in Washington (03/22/98)

THE THINGS WE DO...

by Orysia Paszczak Tracz

My crime in Washington

After 27 years, to be in Washington again! I leapt at the chance, both because The Washington Group's Leadership Conference to which I was invited was interesting, and because the city had always had a sentimental place in my heart. My years at George Washington University were special, both because of my studies and the pleasure of living in this glorious city for four years. The freshman experience of being there for the funeral of John F. Kennedy also made me grow up in a way I'd rather not.

I had never broken my link to D.C., even though for the past quarter century I have lived thousands of miles away, here in Winnipeg. Along with the feeling that this was one of my homes, my tangible connection includes the capital's newspapers, the Library of Congress, books about the city, contact with friends, the Smithsonian magazine and the institution's gift shop catalogue.

Aaah, that catalogue! This wonderful, elegant, witty, classy, special and often too-expensive-for-my-budget catalogue tempts me every year. In the fall of 1994, it arrived; there, towards the back, at the top center of the page, was my scarf! I like scarves, and have this passion for paisley, but it must be perfect, with the just-right combination of color and pattern. And there it was, a brilliant red, yellow, orange Echo silk, in a swirly, elegant paisley design. It called to me, it waited for me, it was meant for me. Rather than impersonally ordering it by mail, I could get it myself during the conference.

My flight left Winnipeg practically at dawn that mid-October Friday, with a coffee and bagel breakfast before the transfer in Minneapolis. Between there and D.C., it was another bagel as an early lunch. That afternoon, after checking in at the Georgetown University Conference Center, I found I still had time to see my old alma mater, and to get to that scarf waiting for me at the Smithsonian Gift Shop. The Georgetown campus shuttle took me to Dupont Circle; from there I walked down to the White House and George Washington U. It was fascinating to observe what had changed and what had not. It seemed busier, especially with the street vendors I didn't remember from long ago.

By the time I reached the area of the F Street Metro station, three things hit me: the Smithsonian would soon be closing, I had to be back in time for a reception at the Embassy of Ukraine, and I was very hungry - two bagels since morning were not enough, especially after all that brisk walking. No time for a restaurant meal, but with so many food vendors around, here was a chance to eat on the run Washington-style. I ordered a hot dog with the works and a soda (that's softdrink in Winnipegese), and headed for the subway.

I had left D.C. in 1967 B.S. - before subway. The state-of-the-art ticket system confused me, but the Metrorail staff was helpful in heading me in the right direction, towards my Smithsonian scarf. As I settled into one of the long benches in the middle of the car, with the other seats from both sides facing in my direction, I remember being impressed with the cleanliness of the station and the subway cars. It was a fairly long ride, so I took out my Washington guide book, and before my stomach growled too loudly, I unpacked my hot dog for a late but leisurely lunch. Boy, was it good!

Throughout my meal-with-a-relish, I distinctly sensed the other passengers looking straight at me, but I hesitated making eye contact - after all, the stuff you hear about American city crime and people not playing by the rules ...

I arrived at the Smithsonian station, and both panic and confusion hit. Which Smithsonian gift shop? To my horror I was informed there isn't just one mega-shop - but a separate shop in each gallery and museum, with only the items relevant to the collections exhibited there. Each of the shops is spectacular, and would require at least a day apiece. And it was almost closing time! I felt like a pinball hitting each building and locating the shop in each. I won the jackpot at the Arts and Industries shop - there, among all the other lovely textiles, was my scarf. It felt as ethereal as it looked. There was just enough time to pay for it before the lights were turned off. Satisfied and delighted with my purchase, I headed back to the subway, to get ready for the conference reception. I still had time to admire the hanging baskets of brilliant yellow chrysanthemums on all the buildings of the Smithsonian compound. What a delightful sight!

As I settled into my subway seat, this time facing the signs in the middle of the car, my eyes froze at the main notice in fairly large letters that before I had missed completely - the one about no eating, no drinking, no smoking, no loud music, in the subway "subject to fine or arrest. No wonder all the other passengers had stared at me! The subway guard passed through the car just as I forced my jaw shut. What luck that he hadn't been around during my earlier trip. I would not have made it to my conference. I could see the tabloid headlines now: "Canadian Cultural Crusader Cuffed in Capital." As I left the car to catch the bus to Georgetown, I smiled, then laughed to myself all the way up the escalator, out of the station and on the bus. Other than the big grin on my face, some guffaws behind a hand and the head shaking, I did look relatively normal. Honest.

The conference went well, seeing old friends and meeting new ones was great, and I was sorry to leave D.C. after such a short visit. I learned something, though, and will pass on this advice to others visiting Washington: make the Smithsonian one of your must-sees, but give yourself enough days to really see and enjoy all the galleries and museums, budget for lots of time and money at the many gift shops (and remember that each is different), and - never mind the sleeping - just don't eat or drink on the Washington Metro!

In October 1994 the author participated in the Leadership Conference of The Washington Group (TWG), an association of Ukrainian American professionals. The Smithsonian scarf is still one of her favorites. She misses Washington and hopes the statute of limitations on crime confessions has passed.