Sonder n. the realization that each random
passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their
own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story
that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground,
with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know
existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the
background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at
dusk. – from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
I first learned this word from my dear friend Elan about two
years ago, but it has not been until recently that it has become an integral
part of my interaction with the world. I had had moments of sonder, but after
visiting New York with its endless throngs of tourists and business people and
homeless, I realize now what it means to truly live with sonder— to be continually conscious of the fact that
there are a thousand stories unfolding around you, in which you are merely part
of the back drop.
New York is crowded. It’s not Bejing or New Dehli, but was definitely the most people per square mile I have ever experienced. Needless to say, people watching is one of the best
free sources of entertainment, but it can also be one of the most enlightening.
I had the honor of hearing Nobel Peace Laureate Adolpho
Perez Esquivel speak last fall, and his words on the subject have stayed with
me. He explained that we live in a universe, but we are surrounded by
universes, each balanced precariously at a moment in time that is both preceded
and succeeded by a story we will never fully know. And though we are at the
center of our universe, recognizing
the depth and value of those lives around us is the simplest way to find
empathy for other human beings.
Imagine that the guy who just cut you off was late for a job
interview after months of unemployment. The irritatingly slow woman on the
narrow staircase just had both hips replaced. The guy who stole your wallet
went through a broken school system in a broken family and still can’t read at
a fifth grade level. He’s been in and out of prison for theft because he chose
to marry his pregnant girlfriend instead of taking off and needs money for rent
to keep them off the streets. Make up whatever story you want, but know that there is always a story and a reason why people are the way they are. Forgiveness for trespasses against us becomes so
much easier to grant when you can remember that people are their own giant
universes, not just insignificant pinpricks in our own, and most importantly that
too we carry our own flaws and imperfections. If everyone could live with this deep and constant empathy think how much more compassionate we would be as a race...
But enough with the philosophical stuff. NEW YORK!!! Man
what a circus… the energy of the city was unexpected, though I’ve seen a dozen
movies with the bustling Time’s Square. As an introvert I have to admit I found
myself desperately needing some peace and quiet after 48 hours, and Central
Park was, not surprisingly, my favorite part of the city.
A rundown of the weekend:
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| Our beds, captured from the mirror. |
Our hotel was called The Jane and was built before World War One as a hotel for sailors. The rooms were designed to feel like ship cabins, and it was actually used as a refuge for survivors of the Titanic while the investigation into the sinking was underway. The lobby felt like a scene from the Darjeeling Limited, with
a 1900s era front desk complete with uniformed bellhops and stuffed peacocks on
the walls. Our room was about as big as my bathroom at home, with bunk
beds and two pull out drawers. The walls were wood paneling and it felt very
much like a tiny ship cabin, though quite well furnished with such little
space. Pretty damn cool.
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| The Front Desk at The Jane |
My dad’s flight didn’t arrive until around 2pm that day so I
took a nap in the room and then headed up the street to figure out the subway
system. I made my way to the north side of Central Park, where I probably
walked about three miles just exploring the various woods, bridges, and gardens
with swarms of tourists and local joggers. I had no idea how expansive and
diverse the park was, and I am so thrilled it has been well protected.
I met my dad at Grand Central Terminal and from there we
made our way to the Public Library (though the main room was under renovation),
through Bryant’s park and finally to Time’s Square. The crowds were insane, and
we were clearly in tourist territory.
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| Times Square |
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Grand Central Station
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We bought tickets to see Book of Mormon later that night and
dipped down into an underground Italian restaurant for dinner. The lasagna we
split was the best I’ve ever had, but we unwittingly ended up paying $20 for
water (1 bottle of still, 1 bottle of sparkling). We learned the hard way that when
the waiter asks you if you would like still or sparkling water, you say “just
from the tap, please,” as the people who arrived after us did.
The play was crude, sacrilegious, and hands down the
funniest performance I’ve ever seen. Not for the easily offended… Afterward we
made our way to the 48th floor of a nearby hotel, where we got
drinks at a rotating restaurant and bar with a cool view of the city lights.
The next day we took a train into Brooklyn and walked back
to Manhattan over the Brooklyn Bridge, which offered spectacular views of the
city.
After that we cut through Wall Street where tourists were queuing to pose with the giant bull statue (either its horns or balls depending on the direction).
From the southern end of the island we took a $2 ferry to
governor’s island, an abandoned military post that used to house over 3,000
people including the families of the troops. We rented bikes and rode around,
which was a nice change of muscles since we’d probably walked close to 4 miles
at that point. It felt like a colonial ghost town, and we walked through a few
open houses and the old castle/jail/community center.
After that it was the 9/11 memorial, which was exceedingly
eerie. The cascading reflection pools were built in the exact location of the
two fallen towers, creating two literal holes in the city.
For dinner we headed
up to Little Italy, where we had pizza at the oldest pizza shop in New York
City, though to be honest I didn’t like it much. The pizza was made with fresh
mozzarella, but it was in thin slices that covered maybe a third of the slice,
so it was mostly bread and sauce. Mamma-meh.
Little Italy and China Town were neat for window shopping
and people watching. In the park in China town there were tables full of
elderly Chinese people, with the men all playing checkers and the women playing
cards. Those not playing were crowded around, and it seemed like a very strong community.
Later that night we snuck into the rooftop bar of our hotel,
which had an incredible view of the city lights and matched the 1920s décor of
the rest of the hotel. (I faked a German accent and had my German ID on hand,
but they didn’t even ask. Apparently they’re pretty lenient with foreigners.)
New York would be a really fun city to live in in your 20s just for the
nightlife.
I’ve now forgotten the order of things we did, but we went
to the free night at the Museum of Modern Art and saw some of the great works,
including Starry Nights, Andy Warhol’s soup cans, Monet’s Water Lillies, and
Mondrian’s color blocks. We also checked out the Chelsea Markets, an indoor
strip of artisanal shops and restaurants, and the High Line, a park and jogging
path built on an elevated stretch of old rail track.
On the last night we went to a biergarten, where again an
accent and a foreign ID was all it took to get me in (though my German ID has
my real birthday on it). I really wish I’d figured out that trick sooner.
Some general observations about the city:
-Holy Calvin Klein are there beautiful men in New
York. The city is a magnet for young professionals, thus the percentage of well-dressed
eligible bachelors is extremely high. Note to future self.
2 -There are a crap ton of tourists, and thus a
crap ton of people trying to sell you touristy things. On one walk down a street
near central park we were asked by 12 people (yes I counted) if we were
interested in a horse drawn carriage ride. They need to strategize a bit more I
think.
3 -People were not as rude as stereotypes had led
me to expect. I learned that honking is usually more of a way of telling other
drivers/pedestrians where you are that just saying “move”.
4 -It’s doable on a range of budgets. While
entrance to the main attractions will typically cost you $25 a head, there was
a slew of things to do for free, some with a bit of planning. The line for the
free night at MOMA was originally about two hours, but after talking to a
security guard we found out there was usually a lull around 6pm and waltzed right
in a few hours later. There are free times for many attractions, and even a booth in times square where you can buy discounted tickets for day-of Broadway shows.
5 - I wouldn't like the city nearly as much without
Central Park. It was literally a breath of fresh air when the chaos of the city
overwhelmed your resident introvert.
Cheers,
Dana
( PS. (Friends and family can see lots more pictures on Facebook)
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