Wall Street is not much of a street. I imagined hundreds of bustling men-in-suits, running across the street with their hand in the air, hailing taxis. In fact, the part of Wall Street I went to--the part next to the New York Stock Exchange--is cut off to traffic and mostly all I saw was tourists in various stages of taking photos.
One thing I find interesting about New York is the prices. On-the-sidewalk vendors sell $1.75 hotdogs; 80-cent, eight-ounce cups of coffee are all over Chinatown. But, seeing $9.99-per-1/2 hour parking seemed pretty standard throughout Manhattan. I'm thinking I could survive financially in New York as long as I could subsist on hot dogs and little cups of coffee and didn't bring my car.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Day 2: In the Movies
Central Park in the winter holds not the glory of summer in Central Park. Nonetheless, I still felt that perhaps I was the girl from Enchanted, or I was watching a young chess prodigy from Searching for Bobby Fischer. Later we went to the Museum of Natural History, and I got to pretend I was in Night at the Museum, Sagawea and Teddy Roosevelt and all.
Most memorable perhaps was the model of the giant squid suctioned to a giant sperm whale. Did you know that no one has ever observed giant squid in their native habitat? No one knows for sure where they eat or where they live. Dead ones just wash up on shore, get caught in fishing nets or are discovered in the bellies of sperm whales; that's the only way we know that giant squid exist. Crazy, huh?
Most memorable perhaps was the model of the giant squid suctioned to a giant sperm whale. Did you know that no one has ever observed giant squid in their native habitat? No one knows for sure where they eat or where they live. Dead ones just wash up on shore, get caught in fishing nets or are discovered in the bellies of sperm whales; that's the only way we know that giant squid exist. Crazy, huh?
Day 3: Ellis Island
Somehow, its museum made immigration through Ellis Island seem a rather glamorous--if painful--affair. And, according to the tour guide, 40 percent of Americans can trace their ancestry through this island. So you can imagine my disappointment to find, upon calling my mom from the museum, that my ancestors emigrated from Germany around the 1860s, long before Ellis Island's doors opened in 1892. Although, when you think about it, being around since the 1860s makes my family good, solid American stock--I'm practically a Daughter of the American Revolution.
New York City, Day 1 OR The Importance of Wise Choices in Footwear When Traveling
I recently spent a few days in New York City. The three of us who went together jokingly referred to ourselves as the three villagers come to gawk at the big city.
Now, the thing I don't like about being a tourist is looking like a tourist. The essentials to appearing like a "native" are to dress like the natives, act unaffected by everything and not go around holding a map and saying things like, "That museum was interesting, but what I'm really looking forward to is going to the Empire State Building tomorrow."
Unfortunately, my traveling companions were not as concerned about looking like tourists; I gave up trying to look like a native when I realized that the Lonely Planet guide to NYC that never left my friend's hands implicated all three of us, not just him.
A corollary to the "Be careful how much you care about looking the native" is "Be careful what you value when making footwear decisions while traveling." I chose--incorrectly--to value fashion (you have to look fashionable if you want to look like a native in NYC, right?) over function. I brought my fashionable, not-so-waterproof boots. And, in deference to my traveling ideal of packing lightly, I only brought this one pair of shoes.
The boots--whose native habitat is dry, cold climates--were ill-prepared for the slushy fallout of a New York snow. The wool socks, who usually cooperate well with the boots to keep me warm, provided no insulation once they too were slush-soaked.
I have at least three pairs of shoes that would have done a better job of keeping my feet warm and dry, but I didn't think they were fashionable enough for New York City. I think I might need to readjust my values.
This episode reminded me of a day I spent traveling to Nanjing when I decided--because it was so hot--to wear my (apparently tractionless) flip-flops. It rained that day, and I spent the entire day trying not to fall on my butt on the slick, smooth granite tiles of the Nanjing walkways.
The lesson in both instances is the same: Consider carefully all possible complications that a particular pair of shoes could pose when traveling.
Now, the thing I don't like about being a tourist is looking like a tourist. The essentials to appearing like a "native" are to dress like the natives, act unaffected by everything and not go around holding a map and saying things like, "That museum was interesting, but what I'm really looking forward to is going to the Empire State Building tomorrow."
Unfortunately, my traveling companions were not as concerned about looking like tourists; I gave up trying to look like a native when I realized that the Lonely Planet guide to NYC that never left my friend's hands implicated all three of us, not just him.
A corollary to the "Be careful how much you care about looking the native" is "Be careful what you value when making footwear decisions while traveling." I chose--incorrectly--to value fashion (you have to look fashionable if you want to look like a native in NYC, right?) over function. I brought my fashionable, not-so-waterproof boots. And, in deference to my traveling ideal of packing lightly, I only brought this one pair of shoes.
The boots--whose native habitat is dry, cold climates--were ill-prepared for the slushy fallout of a New York snow. The wool socks, who usually cooperate well with the boots to keep me warm, provided no insulation once they too were slush-soaked.
I have at least three pairs of shoes that would have done a better job of keeping my feet warm and dry, but I didn't think they were fashionable enough for New York City. I think I might need to readjust my values.
This episode reminded me of a day I spent traveling to Nanjing when I decided--because it was so hot--to wear my (apparently tractionless) flip-flops. It rained that day, and I spent the entire day trying not to fall on my butt on the slick, smooth granite tiles of the Nanjing walkways.
The lesson in both instances is the same: Consider carefully all possible complications that a particular pair of shoes could pose when traveling.
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