October 11, 1997
I was in New York for the first time way back in February of 1977. At that time, New York was considered a city of crime, mafia, pornography and more. Harlem was not recommended for whites to enter. Times Square was not yet at the crossroads of the world. My friends, the locals, were shaking their heads when they heard I was walking the streets in the middle of the night.
Years later, I ended my trip across the US at three in the morning on a Sunday at Greyhound’s Port Authority on 42nd Street. And made a bold march to Fifth Avenue, and quickly returned with hastening steps.
During one of my visits, I met Father Krizolog, a Franciscan, a priest in New York’s Slovenian Church of St. Cyril.
Already in 1878, the Slovenian community settled in New York. The number grew and in 1893 the first Slovenian newspaper Glas Naroda appeared in New York. In 1912, the newspaper had at least 9,000 subscribers. Glas Naroda was published more or less frequently until 1963.
Slovenes did not have their own parish in New York for a long time because they were mainly Catholic. Thus, they socialized in German-speaking churches and developed many societies within these churches, including choirs, youth societies, and a charitable society. On January 29, 1916, the Slovenian parish and Roman Catholic church of St. Cyril. Church of St. Cyril is located at 62 St. Mark’s Place in Manhattan’s East Village and is still an important center of Slovenian life in New York.
At its eightieth anniversary, the church needed renovations. Some funds were provided by the state, some were donations from believers, and a small amount was contributed by a charity concert in Cankarjev dom. I had the honor of designing the poster and program flyer for this concert.
And then I went to Krizolog in New York a few more times. When I came to visit Krizolog for the first time, I first looked for a church. When I see a cross on top of a building, I say to myself, aha, here. An older Afro-American woman was sitting on the steps. I say good morning to her, I’m looking for Father Martin. I do not know! What? Never heard of him! When I look up, I notice the sign First German Methodist Church on the front! OK, let’s move on. On the opposite side of the street I notice the Ukrainian Church. Well, two entrances further I finally found a Slovenian church.
So, shortly after finishing the renovation, I came by late in the evening. Krizolog was just cleaning the basement. The garbage collectors come in the morning, and by then the garbage must be on the street. I approach and help him take the useless things to the street. When we finished, still dusty, says Krizolog, let’s go to the Japanese for sushi. I tell him, you know I don’t like fish, especially not raw. And he replies, I didn’t like it either, but after trying it, I think they are very good.
Okay, let’s go.
Sushi (すし, 寿司, 鮨, 鮓, pronounced [sɯɕiꜜ] or [sɯꜜɕi]) is a Japanese dish of prepared vinegared rice (鮨飯, sushi-meshi), usually with some sugar and salt, accompanied by a variety of ingredients ( ねた, neta), such as seafood—often raw—and vegetables. Styles of sushi and its presentation vary widely, but the one key ingredient is “sushi rice”, also referred to as shari (しゃり), or sumeshi (酢飯).
The inventor of modern sushi is believed to be Hanaya Yohei, who invented nigiri-zushi, a type of sushi most known today, in which seafood is placed on hand-pressed vinegared rice, around 1824 in the Edo period (1603–1867). It was the fast food of the chōnin class in the Edo period.
We arrive at a small restaurant on Third Avenue. A few tables in front of the bar. It’s past midnight, but everything is full, no empty tables. We walk in and the first waiter who sees us says oh, hi father. It seems that everyone knows Krizolog. The waiter says how many? Two! And we got our table in a few minutes.
As a connoisseur, Krizolog orders a portion of sushi. With a bit of skepticism, I try the first one. Um, it wasn’t even that bad. The point is that the ingredients are even fresher than fresh and that the sushi, if possible, is prepared in front of you.
Despite everything, I visited a Japanese restaurant many times after that.
Once, when I was leaving back to Europe, Krizolog felt he had to drive me to the airport. What’s worse, Saturday afternoon and queues on the highway. I am already afraid of flying by plane and of course I was nervous. Krizolog, however, was silent. Fortunately, we arrived on time, just before the hour, so I didn’t even say goodbye as I should.
And of all the things in New York, I still love the endless subway rides and Staten Island ferry rides the most.