New York - Subways, Chinatown & World Trade Centre

Subways The subway is the type of place where when you walk in a puddle and liquid flicks from your jandle and dribbles down your leg, you cringe at the thought of what that liquid might be. They almost smell as bad as the stairwell of Wgtn’s St James Carpark. Stale urine. On the 30 degree days the subways feel like saunas and there is usually nowhere to sit while waiting (could turn into a bed for a homeless person) We would be sweating wearing only shorts and singlets then look in astonishment as a man would walk past in full Jewish regalia- a tall black top hat, suit and full length coat. Grand Central Station is the exception to the ugly, dirtiness of subways. Complete with crystal chandeliers and restaurants it’s beauty is in stark contrast to the dark, smelly place that lies only a few minutes walk away.
In Brooklyn being white is to be the minority race. On one memorable ride, a black guy sitting in the corner with giant pair of headphones gave a rap concert to the train with every second word being an expletive. This was an R18 concert and he sounded really angry especially to the ‘white man’ and ‘all those b*tches’. As curious as I was of this misogynistic, racist rapper – I was too scared to even glance in his direction in case he ‘popped’ me! On 3 occasions homeless people came onto the subway and announced their state to the people of the carriage and asked for money. The reaction to this was as if they were invisible.
If you are into people watching, New York and the subways are the place to do it. I saw the fattest person, the skinniest person, the blackest, the whitest and the lady with the biggest pair of boobs I’ve ever seen. New York is a truly multicultural city. While we never heard another NZ accent in our visit (except when visiting Luke Weston from CPNZ) we weren’t unique. In the space of 5 minutes walking down a street you would hear a dozen different languages spoken from people all over the word. It would be impossible to describe the ‘average’ New Yorker. I was kind of expecting to see the Sex in the City types, strutting about in manolo blahniks, but they probably don’t frequent the subways, choosing taxis instead. The black people were interesting. Especially the women who had bodies I thought anatomically impossible – they have huge butts protruding out at such an angle that you could stand a can of coke up on it. And still, no matter how big, they could squeeze themselves into the tiniest pair of jeans and walk down the street with an air of confidence surrounding them so you just know they still think they are all that.

I found the subway system quite difficult to understand. The train announcers only added to the confusion. Their announcements about the train you were on and it’s destination followed by the standard ‘stand clear of the closing doors please’ sounded as though they were being broadcasted through a World War 2 PA system. Sometimes you couldn’t even tell if they were speaking English. So I was quite happy to let Warren navigate us. He did pretty well. We only took the wrong train once and ended up in a ‘less desirable’ part of Brooklyn where a couple of guys were negotiating a drug deal at the top of the stairs and low riding cars with rap music blaring drove past us slowly while their occupants glared at the 2 white tourists who had stumbled into their hood. Needless to say we got out of there in a hurry.

Watching the guys doing breakdancing on the streets or in the stations was always entertaining. I admired them for their skill and talent and decision to make money the hard way rather than stealing or begging. These guys were totally cut and had bodies that would make even the most dedicated 6-day-a-week gym junkies jealous.

Chinatown
Chinatown was a bustling, busy market area where again we were in the ethnic minority. The streets reeked from the fish markets and rubbish bags piled high along the footpath. There were lots of fruit markets selling everything from the ordinary banana to the bizarre dimpled fig thing. We walked around trying to find somewhere for dinner but all the signs were in Chinese. In the end we selected our restaurant based simply on the fact that it had an English sign in the window. $3 for 4 dishes, rice and soup – you can’t beat that for value. We were the only non asians in the diner and it looked slightly dodgey. I had to say it was a brave move for Warren who was still suffering the ill effects from a bout of food poisoning. But the food was delicious and we remained in good health – for the next 24hrs at least.

World Trade Centre
The site of the old World Trade Centre was a sombre experience. Large billboards told the timelime of the tragic events and parents read the words in hushed voices to children too young and innocent to understand them. You just didn’t get the extent of the attack until you went down there and saw all of the large buildings surrounding a giant fenced-off empty square. You feel the loss of the people at this location. The impact on the States has been much more than an empty square; it has been the cause of a complete change in operation of the country. Security now abounds. As frustrating and tiresome as it is, the Americans seem to understand that this is how it is now.