Well one thing is certain, City Year is definitely different. I knew that they prided themselves on their culture, it was one of the things that drew me to them in the first place, but I find that I didn’t grasp how much that culture permeated everything that they do. Everything we wear while on duty is regulated and branded, from our backpacks to our shoes. But I’m happy that we’re getting so many clothes because my closet is definitely not suited to the weather up here. It’s been beautiful, clear skies everywhere, but cold and from what I’ve heard as the season progresses we’re going to lose the beauty but keep the cold.
I didn’t quite believe the hype until I saw all the clothes they had for us to try on. Sweaters and vests, jackets and more jackets, gloves and hats. I looked at all of the clothes in disbelief and asked if they were necessary. Evan, one of the senior corps members, just laughed at me and said that he had worn every single one of these layers last winter… at the same time.
Registration was exactly what it sounds like: paperwork, mindless tedium, and instructions that I doubt anyone will retain past today. But we got to spend time with the corps as a whole and played more games designed to make us all a big happy team. I like the idea of inclusivity but wonder how long it can be maintained.
But there was a surprise to make all the paperwork worthwhile. City Year had come into possession of enough Storms tickets to invite the entire corps, so we all went to a basketball game at the Seattle Center after work! Seattle Center is where the Space Needle is, along with the Center House and Key Stadium. But most importantly it has the International Fountain.
This fountain is intense. My brother’s girlfriend Aelynn told me about it, raving actually about how children and adults could slide down the steep sides of the bowl to the large silver dome in the middle that shot water high into the air while music swells in time with the waves of water. I heard it all, but when I actually saw it I had to run down to the middle and play in the streams of water despite the semi-amused stares of my roommates and the fact that it was getting dark and I was going to go sit in a cold stadium. And you know what? It was glorious.
The game itself wasn’t that exciting, but it seems that the fun part of a Storms game is not the game itself but rather the noise you get to make during it. They hand out these inflatable sticks that make a loud clapping noise when knocked together and everyone in the entire stadium has them. Add to these sticks the roaring crowd and stomping feet and it’s easy to understand why this stadium is known for being the loudest in the league.
But one can only shout for so long, so a bunch of us twenty-one-plus corps members went off to a bar in capital hill called Cha Chas. You have to walk down a set of stairs to get to the bar proper and with every step you take you find yourself descending into a kind of red half-dark, kind of like you would expect upon walking into a dark room. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs you find your eyes drawn upward to the ceiling, where it looks as if a Dia de las Muertos parade got drunk and decided to settle in rather than moving down to the next stop. It’s amazing, skeleton puppets and sparkling sombreros compete for space with tissue flowers and old corona bottles. As your eye continues throughout the room you spy a wall made of glass bottles set into stone, huge black velvet paintings and murals of Luche Libre fighters in full dress.
And they even serve burritos.
Needless to say we got quite a bit drunk (5$ pitchers of Rainer are an amazing invention) and dove into our burritos with reckless abandon. It wasn’t quite the same as going to Nico’s at three am, but it’s a reasonable substitution. I wonder what else Seattle holds?