USA: New York City, 2018 | Part III

I sat at the bar in the kitchen the next morning. you know what? I could get used to this. waking up in New York City in comfy sheets to have Oreos, thinking where to spend the day. a man in his late twenties joined the seat next to mine. his rich breakfast made my Oreos look pathetic.

he’s struggling to open something and I thought of offering help. but before I could, he already managed it himself. and in turn, he offered me his breakfast. it’s Indian food and I hadn’t had any curry or dhal ever since setting foot in American soil. so, I indulged myself, even made sure that I get this sauce/paste that tasted sweet and spicy when I have the chance to visit India. for a moment, I was instantly transported back to home.

he’s here on a business trip. being the “baby” at home, his family had packed all this for him to make sure he didn’t starve in the Big Apple. I said I was gonna hit Central Park. he was, too. so we headed out together. it felt nice for a change, to have a travel companion for a day.

during the 20-minute subway ride, I got to know him better. let’s just call him Harith. he’s 7 years older than me. he’s been running some sort of e-marketing business for about 3 years and was looking on expanding. which is why he’s here.

we got out of the subway to the Upper East Side. (after some fun tossing the tiny yellow human figure onto Maps, I think it’s 68th Street.) I got out my phone but not sure which direction I was facing. my new companion looked at the phone and instantly knew which way to head. I remember when I first used Google Maps in Bangkok, we would walk 10, 20 meters only to realize we’re heading the opposite direction the map intended us to. this guy’s a wizard.

we walked past neat buildings. I wasn’t sure if they’re used as office or residence. the basement unit somehow intrigued me more than the street and upper units.

“huh, must be nice,” I thought. in my head, I wondered, beyond each window, how those lives look like each day, each season, each year? fulfilling? miserable? complicated? just as ordinary as mine? really? you live in one of the nicest places in New York City!

we walked the perimeter of the park to the entrance. there were quite a number of runners and some auxiliary policemen controlling traffic. Harith pointed it out. later, we saw that there’s a marathon going on.

we made it to the park entrance and there’s nothing but greenery in front of us, around us. if corner buildings hold my fascination, then Central Park is all the corner buildings in the world put together. after seeing photos of it thousands of time on Tumblr (and Humans of New York!), from this angle and that angle, I was finally here. some hard facts: it was created between 1857-1876 and covered 843 acres. crazy big, right?! it’s an oasis in this metropolis.

the marathon ended at a few pink and white canopies. I think it’s a run that’s run (hah punny) by an organization advocating for women. Harith was like a little kid spotting a fun fair. he couldn’t wait to check them out. now, who’s the older person here?

I don’t know. I’m thinking something in me is dead, you know. I don’t get excited that much anymore nowadays. other than a riddle or a maths problem, it really takes something colossal to tickle my brain cells.

after a few touristy photos for him and getting a free bandana—which at first I rejected ‘cause I hate having to bring an extra thing home but later glad that I took it ‘cause it kept my camera dry in such lousy weather—we moved on.

I know it’s kinda idiotic of me. knowing how big the entire park is, I never bothered to look at the map beforehand at all. so we just followed a path with a general direction towards the West Side, ending up at a gazebo next to a lake. I wondered if this is the lake that Holden was talking about. oh boy, he’s sorely mistaken. it’s the end of the summer, but there ain’t any duck to be seen. maybe his question wasn’t valid at all. because there’s no duck to begin with. or was this not that lake?

I remember watching a (prominent) politician said on TV that Kuala Lumpur will build its own Central Park some time ago. they’re planning it. I just scoffed. so you think you can have a Central Park in 5, 10 years? how much money are we going to pour into it? and how much of those will seep into who-knows-who’s pocket? how many people are to be evicted from their homes of decades so you could turn that land into a park? how are you going to maintain the park? we’re a hundred years behind than the world. why not put that money into the forest reserves that we already have? our national parks are badly managed and could use some money anyway.

there were some rocks jutting out into the lake and we decided to take a look at it. I’m more of a lone ranger, really, very… more. (solo trip here, hello? self-explanatory.) but I have to admit that, sometimes, two is really better than one. we had to walk a narrow strip at the edge of the jut-out land to get to the rocks that we saw. usually, when I’m alone, I would just give up and go home. never underestimate my drive to “go home” when it comes to “go big or go home”. seriously.

from where we stood before the rocks, we could see the NYC skyline. it’s just like in the movies I’m not kidding. the movies ain’t kidding. sitting atop the rock was a boy around my age, or he could be younger than me. I really didn’t want to interrupt him appreciating the view in front of him. but he noticed us and offered that place to us. we took turns taking touristy photos for each other. then, he left. I couldn’t help but wonder if he too, had McMiserable. I hoped that he’s handling it well.

now that we got the view to ourselves, I stood there taking it in slowly. the weather really sabotaged it though. otherwise, it’d be amazing. I imagined fall, when all the trees in the park turn to gold and yellow. surely, it’ll look brighter than this summer’s day.

my fascination with New York City—if I have any—comes from Salinger’s The Catcher In The Rye. yeah, that’s what all the duck deal was about. so naturally, visiting the Museum of Natural History was a must.

our experience there was mostly a haze of getting from one gallery to another. it was so, so dark and so crowded, probably because of dum dum (remember Night at the Museum?). I don’t think I actually digested any information I got there. I only vaguely remember watching a presentation about the universe being projected onto the ceiling and thinking, “okay, so this is the ‘in’ technology nowadays” ‘cause I’d seen something similar in another museum, except there ain’t any seats then and I was the only one smart and indifferent enough to sit on the floor. I think they’re fine with neck pains. I think it was from that preso that I finally understood the phrase “when you wish upon a star, you’re a few million light years late.” love me some Physics lessons from time to time.

our stomachs were growling so we checked out the restaurant. it gave me a feeling of a merge between IKEA restaurant and boarding school dining hall. unsatisfied, we left. the Museum of Natural History was nothing like it was in the book. then I realized that 50 or so years had passed and I wanted to tell Holden that even the museum changes. the birds? they’re in some other gallery now.

it’s Harith’s first day in New York City so I somehow found myself in Shake Shack again. I didn’t mind ‘cause then I could have a double check if the burger was really just “okay”. spoiler alert: it was.

the restaurant was jam-packed. I was finally that person who has a partner to work out the logistics with. I got seats and he got food. the paranoid part of me was afraid that my food’s spiked. but I think I thought I’m a slow eater so by the time I fall to the ground, the whole restaurant will be looking at me and be sensible enough to call 911. so yeah.

we talked about family first during the meal. there’re some commonalities between us. we’re the youngest, the “baby” of the family which is why we’re always the protected one no matter what age we’re in. I don’t mind all that pampering though.

we’re also the one that took a different path in the family. his brothers have stable and secure jobs whereas he took the leap of faith to start his own business. me? none of my family pursued a creative path.

then, the conversation changed to relationship. I didn’t have anything to say about that. his story was what I assume most relationships are like in reality. to put it short, she wanted to continue a life of wanderlust and his business just took off. none wanted to take a step back so it ended eventually.

I said I’m bad at compromising too. you may say that we don’t love the other person enough to sacrifice ourselves. yada, yada, yada. but me giving up my blood and sweat just so my partner could travel? or we both half-ass our own shit? are you fucking nuts? I don’t see the point of going through all those arguments anyway. and c’mon, I’m too lazy for that. I’d much rather spend that energy on something else, thank you.

we moved back up to street level and headed to Brooklyn Bridge. I initially saved it for sunset time, but with this weather… might as well. before we reached the beginning of the bridge, he had to stop to take a cig. just like me and everyone else who sits at the computer most of the day, his number of steps taken on an average day was about 300. yeah, we compared our Health on iPhone. walking 10,000 must be a torture for him. I’m thankful that standing 8 hours a day for 3 months beat leg up enough for this.

the drizzle got heavier as we got nearer to the arch. it explains the missing Brooklyn Bridge photos from this post. Harith’s paper bag was soaked and torn halfway there. it was… I can’t find the right English word, but in Mandarin—狼狈. (nope, it’s not ‘Wolverine’, Google Translate).

I looked down at the passing cars and tried looking for my friends’ scribble that they left a week ago among the graffiti. Harith pointed out One World Trade Center to me. I hadn’t noticed it the night before at Brooklyn Bridge Park. it’s amusing to me, that how your background and identity shaped the way you experience New York City, or anything else, really. I looked at lights, textures and structures. he’s interested in the Financial District. an architecture enthusiast may look at the cityscape and cursed at the few buildings that ruin the beauty. some adrenaline junkie friends went on an open-door helicopter ride above the city.

but either way, you wouldn’t wanna miss the historic Grand Central Terminal. that’s where we went after that. the thing with Grand Central Terminal is, if you look at these photos from the 50s, you can see lights pouring in—which is exactly why they’re so precious. you couldn’t get this scene anymore because of the tall buildings in Manhattan. according to Nat Geo, NYC won’t be getting any sunlight by 2020. sorry to bother you with trivias like this, I just love them. :P

coupled with the bleak weather outside, the inside was more sombre than it usually is. I watched the people come and go, come and go while Harith looked for the oyster place. we were denied entrance, so instead, we shopped at a souvenir shop.

we discussed where to go next. he wanted to go to The Rock, I didn’t want to with such lousy weather, because I wanted to watch the sunset from there. he didn’t want to accept my proposal to take the Staten Island Ferry. talk about compromising. in the end, we decided to head back so I could do my goddamn laundry and then we could go for an early dinner.

on the way back, we jumped onto the wrong train. when I realized that, we alighted at a station that’s elevated. it’s something new, considering that I was so sick of their filthy and stinky underground. it’s a view like this—New York City just the way you’d see on the silver screens instead of Instagram.

later in the evening when I knocked on his door—which was somehow left ajar—to return him his shopping bag, he was already snoring in slumberland.