When I first moved down to New York City, I wasn't sure quite what to expect. I was had spent the previous semester in Washington, DC, a city I absolutely adored and one quite different than New York. I distinctly remember driving down the West Side with my parents on our journey here and looking at the garbage, the construction, the buildings and feeling a sense that this wasn't quite what I expected. This was New York? This was where I was supposed to live? And I was living in a "nice" area?
Thus, I started the semester not loving the city - it was a little cold, a little big, a little dirty for my taste. As the days and weeks have passed, however, I have grown accustomed to life here, used to the hustle, the garbage, the subway. Tolerance, however, is different than acceptance and I don't know if until the other night I really felt connected to what is New York.
It was 4:00 in the morning and I sat tiredly in an airport shuttle, weaving around downtown Manhattan as the driver stopped to pick up the other passengers that were also traveling to LaGuardia Airport. The city was still when we began; very few cars traveled the streets with us. I saw the garbage waiting to be collected, some of it being caught in the wind and blowing across the quiet streets. The van wound its way down narrow streets, in Chinatown, Little Italy and other places that I had never ventured. As we bumped over potholes and around parked cars, I saw the abundance of possibilities - shops never visited, restaurants never eaten in, and I began for the first time to feel a sense of wonder about this place I lived in.
As we continued our driving over the course of an hour around parts of the city not broken by gridded streets, the city began to awaken. Cars began to slowly fill the streets, buses started their first runs and the lights in the bakeries flickered on. The vendors were setting up their carts, with stacks of fresh bagels awaiting the morning commuters. Yet, I also saw the bar owners sweeping their floors and locking their doors as their night was just ending and morning was nowhere on their mind.
As we traversed the Manhattan Bridge, the Q train rumbled by us and I realized for the first time I had become enchanted with New York City, if only a little bit. Whether it was because I was drunk on lack of sleep or unable to see clearly in the dark, I was nonetheless swept away by a little bit of New York magic. While I don't know if I'm ready to commit to loving this city or ever be willing to live here for an extended period of time, it just goes to show that this city can break down even the most hardened of its residents.
