Tired travelers quickly shuffled onto the bus to get out of the drizzle and into a warm comfortable seat for the last bus of the night. Having collected all of the tickets, the animated driver slid into his seat, closed the door and buckled his seatbelt in one motion with surprising speed for the time of night. “Oh, no they didn’t!” He said, quickly bouncing back up eyeing the rearview mirror. Through the opened door a young asian couple stood in the cold apologizing for their delay and plead with the driver to let them on. Hesitantly, he did so with a stern reprimand not too be late again. The driver took his seat again, with a sarcastic chuckle and a broad smile on his face, “See, that’s what I’m talking about! Those are the ones who would be running down the runway to catch the plane. You can’t run after a plane! I’m on a schedule too!” Shaking his head, we were on our way. With a glance at the clock, we were only 1 minute behind our departure time. I soon learned that this driver prides himself on being early. I dozed in and out of sleep as the bus made it’s way out of town and further east than I had driven. We arrived at the New York Port Authority 30 minutes early, much to our driver’s pride.
With the confidence that I was taught to walk with as a kid growing up in big city, I made my way out of the bus terminal and onto the streets of downtown New York City. After years of only imagining what the Big Apple must be like based on pictures and movies, I had finally come to see for myself. My first impression was the international presence. I heard at least 5 languages before exiting the bus terminal and it didn’t stop there. Once on the street, I was struck with the brightness and busyness for 10pm. I headed in a direction that seemed right in search of the flashing subway sign which I had been instructed to look for. A young woman approached me as we crossed a cross walk, “Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of Grand Central Station?” (I guess I was walking confidently enough to fool her). My initial reaction was to look around (as if I could find it) and give her directions until I quickly realized that I was going to have to confess that I had no idea. We walked together for a block in search of our separate destinations. She spotted my subway sign and we parted ways.
Once underground, I felt a familiar peace, a comfort. A crowd had gathered to listen to a band play well-known tunes in the underpass. I stopped to listen for a moment then took guesses at which signs to follow to find my platform. While waiting for the train, I looked around me, soaking it all in. The people around me ranged in age, social status, nationality and race. We stood together waiting for the train, we filed together onto the the subway, no one made eye contact, but everyone shared the public space. Something felt so familiar and so right about this experience. Between blinks, my mind flashed back to years of riding the Moscow metro. I smiled, happy to be reliving the experience and enjoying a new one. I arrived in Central Harlem, and hung out at Starbucks until my friend and host, Jordan arrived to walk me to her apartment.
With the confidence that I was taught to walk with as a kid growing up in big city, I made my way out of the bus terminal and onto the streets of downtown New York City. After years of only imagining what the Big Apple must be like based on pictures and movies, I had finally come to see for myself. My first impression was the international presence. I heard at least 5 languages before exiting the bus terminal and it didn’t stop there. Once on the street, I was struck with the brightness and busyness for 10pm. I headed in a direction that seemed right in search of the flashing subway sign which I had been instructed to look for. A young woman approached me as we crossed a cross walk, “Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of Grand Central Station?” (I guess I was walking confidently enough to fool her). My initial reaction was to look around (as if I could find it) and give her directions until I quickly realized that I was going to have to confess that I had no idea. We walked together for a block in search of our separate destinations. She spotted my subway sign and we parted ways.
Once underground, I felt a familiar peace, a comfort. A crowd had gathered to listen to a band play well-known tunes in the underpass. I stopped to listen for a moment then took guesses at which signs to follow to find my platform. While waiting for the train, I looked around me, soaking it all in. The people around me ranged in age, social status, nationality and race. We stood together waiting for the train, we filed together onto the the subway, no one made eye contact, but everyone shared the public space. Something felt so familiar and so right about this experience. Between blinks, my mind flashed back to years of riding the Moscow metro. I smiled, happy to be reliving the experience and enjoying a new one. I arrived in Central Harlem, and hung out at Starbucks until my friend and host, Jordan arrived to walk me to her apartment.
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| Manhattan from my favorite spot, on top of the Rockefeller |
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| Central Park - another "shared public space" |
My entire visit to NYC was refreshing and enjoyable. Refreshing in two ways: for one, exploring a new place or having a new adventure (especially one with an international element) is like quenching a thirst with a cool glass of water – I crave it. Also refreshing, because being in the city felt so normal and comfortable to me. The things that I loved about NYC are probably things that most people dislike: the crowds – I am more comfortable being surrounded by people; the public transportation – I’ve already touched on my affinity for public transit; the people – call it rudeness, I call it unveiled honesty; the diversity – half the time I wasn’t sure what country I was in and I loved it. Besides just enjoying the city, I so appreciated my conversations with Jordan, a friend from college, and my visit with a friend from middle school. It was a good reminder, as I draw quickly near to another time of transition, that “goodbyes” should never be treated as final. You never know when you will cross paths with unexpected friends and acquaintances, and what a joy it is to do so!
I returned to Bethlehem, fulfilled by my trip and ready to face my last two weeks here. I fully expect that, Lord willing, I will return to New York again someday.
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| China Town after the Lunar New Year parade. I just missed it by about 30 minutes. |
