It has taken me awhile to summon the courage to admit this, but here goes - I could live in New York City.
What makes New York City so great? I cannot think of a more qualified person to answer that question than my sister, who has lived in Manhattan for the past several years. I asked her that very question not long ago, and the following is Sarah's response:
I took the local 6 Subway line from Grand Central to Spanish Harlem - close to 125th Street. Leaving the bustle of Midtown, the atmosphere immediately calms, especially when compared to tourist hotspots like Times Square or the Theater District. Spanish Harlem was a respite. No one carried cameras, maps, or water bottles. Scraggly trees stood watch over a parked Chevy Cavalier and Honda Civics. A garden hose transformed to a makeshift sprinkler cooled a weedy basketball court where a decade-span of children ran through the mist or played a pick-up game.
Although I have lived in Manhattan for more than three years, this was my first venture to the northeast corner of the island. My purpose in getting off the subway here was to head to the Central Park Conservatory for an engagement photo shoot with my fiancé. To reach the Conservatory from the 6, we needed to walk a few avenues west and a couple of streets north.
It is these nondescript blocks that make New York remarkable. You can easily spot the basketball court once you surface from the subway. It is not particularly noteworthy: seaweed-green asphalt cracked from seasonal temperature shifts, divots from enthusiastic budding basketball champions pivoting around each other, a shopping cart carrying cardboard and a plastic milk jug in the far corner.
Despite the slightly mundane venue, the basketball court seemed to be a meeting place for four generations. At the entrance, two weathered old women chatted ebulliently, their tongues rolling Spanish "r's" as fast as a car engine turns over. Barrettes pulled back their gray hair, which gleamed under the summer sun. One of the women was in a wheelchair and seemed to be in charge: she spoke loudly and waved her finger sternly at passers-by. A young man held a toddler's hand tightly and cautioned him to avoid pigeon droppings in the street as they walked toward the women. The toddler was unsure in his footing and stumbled in his Velcro sneakers toward the basketball players. Three teenaged boys were skateboarding while another videotaped them with an old camera. They tried the same tricks over and over again, jumping a shallow curb. The tallest boy tripped and fell over his board, and the other two laughed - the old ladies joined. A middle-aged woman screamed at who appeared to be her young daughter, who was gleefully scampering through the sprinkler. I heard no English spoken on the walk, but I saw an energetic community of families and good friends.
These spontaneous community gatherings are the real trademark of New York. The Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Grand Central, even a Broadway show, are landmarks and institutions that enable the city to thrive as a metropolitan tourist destination, but I find the diversity from street block to street block the most inspiring. A few streets north of the basketball court you'll find restaurants from every country in Central America; a few more blocks will take you to the heart of Harlem and great Southern-style soul food. I tried chorizo and fish tacos from El Salvador after the photo session.
Two years ago, a friend of mine set out to test a personal goal. He aimed to try food from every country in the world without leaving New York City's five boroughs, Staten Island, Manhattan, Queens, the Bronx, and Brooklyn. With a few game rules - e.g., the country must have a population of at least 1,000,000 (sorry, Saint Kitts & Nevis.) and a native of that country must prepare the food - Charles ate food from 129 countries. I was lucky to tag along for a few culinary adventures. The Estonian pierogi bake-off was only a few blocks from my apartment, but took place in the local Estonian culture center that reminded me of the Historic Cheesemaking Center here in Monroe. It was crowded with women competing for the most votes for their homemade breaded meat and vegetable dumplings. I also traveled to Brighton Beach for Georgian food, down to the Meatpacking District for Laotian, and over to Queens for a Bolivian lunch. When my mom came to visit, we followed a tour of the Brooklyn Botanical Garden with a Syrian lunch. Ask her about the garlic yogurt drink if you see her - it was unforgettable, if not regrettable. And feel free to check out my friend's blog about touring the world in New York City, at www.unitednationsoffood.com.
It did not take long for us to reach the Conservatory. While the walk through Spanish Harlem took a brisk 10 minutes, I felt humbled to see yet another puzzle piece that helps to structure New York City. I would encourage any visitor to Manhattan to check out some of the so-called quieter streets. If you do, and have time to slow down to observe the scenery, you will likely find that the energy of the city stems not from flashing billboards and landmarks, but from the residents born and raised there, who take pride in their city block.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Tuesday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
What makes New York City so great? I cannot think of a more qualified person to answer that question than my sister, who has lived in Manhattan for the past several years. I asked her that very question not long ago, and the following is Sarah's response:
I took the local 6 Subway line from Grand Central to Spanish Harlem - close to 125th Street. Leaving the bustle of Midtown, the atmosphere immediately calms, especially when compared to tourist hotspots like Times Square or the Theater District. Spanish Harlem was a respite. No one carried cameras, maps, or water bottles. Scraggly trees stood watch over a parked Chevy Cavalier and Honda Civics. A garden hose transformed to a makeshift sprinkler cooled a weedy basketball court where a decade-span of children ran through the mist or played a pick-up game.
Although I have lived in Manhattan for more than three years, this was my first venture to the northeast corner of the island. My purpose in getting off the subway here was to head to the Central Park Conservatory for an engagement photo shoot with my fiancé. To reach the Conservatory from the 6, we needed to walk a few avenues west and a couple of streets north.
It is these nondescript blocks that make New York remarkable. You can easily spot the basketball court once you surface from the subway. It is not particularly noteworthy: seaweed-green asphalt cracked from seasonal temperature shifts, divots from enthusiastic budding basketball champions pivoting around each other, a shopping cart carrying cardboard and a plastic milk jug in the far corner.
Despite the slightly mundane venue, the basketball court seemed to be a meeting place for four generations. At the entrance, two weathered old women chatted ebulliently, their tongues rolling Spanish "r's" as fast as a car engine turns over. Barrettes pulled back their gray hair, which gleamed under the summer sun. One of the women was in a wheelchair and seemed to be in charge: she spoke loudly and waved her finger sternly at passers-by. A young man held a toddler's hand tightly and cautioned him to avoid pigeon droppings in the street as they walked toward the women. The toddler was unsure in his footing and stumbled in his Velcro sneakers toward the basketball players. Three teenaged boys were skateboarding while another videotaped them with an old camera. They tried the same tricks over and over again, jumping a shallow curb. The tallest boy tripped and fell over his board, and the other two laughed - the old ladies joined. A middle-aged woman screamed at who appeared to be her young daughter, who was gleefully scampering through the sprinkler. I heard no English spoken on the walk, but I saw an energetic community of families and good friends.
These spontaneous community gatherings are the real trademark of New York. The Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Grand Central, even a Broadway show, are landmarks and institutions that enable the city to thrive as a metropolitan tourist destination, but I find the diversity from street block to street block the most inspiring. A few streets north of the basketball court you'll find restaurants from every country in Central America; a few more blocks will take you to the heart of Harlem and great Southern-style soul food. I tried chorizo and fish tacos from El Salvador after the photo session.
Two years ago, a friend of mine set out to test a personal goal. He aimed to try food from every country in the world without leaving New York City's five boroughs, Staten Island, Manhattan, Queens, the Bronx, and Brooklyn. With a few game rules - e.g., the country must have a population of at least 1,000,000 (sorry, Saint Kitts & Nevis.) and a native of that country must prepare the food - Charles ate food from 129 countries. I was lucky to tag along for a few culinary adventures. The Estonian pierogi bake-off was only a few blocks from my apartment, but took place in the local Estonian culture center that reminded me of the Historic Cheesemaking Center here in Monroe. It was crowded with women competing for the most votes for their homemade breaded meat and vegetable dumplings. I also traveled to Brighton Beach for Georgian food, down to the Meatpacking District for Laotian, and over to Queens for a Bolivian lunch. When my mom came to visit, we followed a tour of the Brooklyn Botanical Garden with a Syrian lunch. Ask her about the garlic yogurt drink if you see her - it was unforgettable, if not regrettable. And feel free to check out my friend's blog about touring the world in New York City, at www.unitednationsoffood.com.
It did not take long for us to reach the Conservatory. While the walk through Spanish Harlem took a brisk 10 minutes, I felt humbled to see yet another puzzle piece that helps to structure New York City. I would encourage any visitor to Manhattan to check out some of the so-called quieter streets. If you do, and have time to slow down to observe the scenery, you will likely find that the energy of the city stems not from flashing billboards and landmarks, but from the residents born and raised there, who take pride in their city block.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Tuesday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
