13 August '07

Well I've been in New York City for just under 48 hours now. The city emerged from the skyline like a bushfire, an entire landscape covered in embers, stretching to the horizon. The flight itself was nothing remarkable. Passengers on airplanes act like pedestrians with ipods. As soon as cruising altitude is reached, out come the headphones and on go the personal televisions. Interaction only when necessary and even then one must pause one's movie before conversation can begin.

I've been trying to think how to best articulate the city (as I'm sure myriad fools and travelers have in the past). Being in New York City, walking and sampling New York City is, if you will allow, akin to a child finding that Never Never land exists. So much of this city I have seen before. The rows and rows of brownstone buildings, the steps coming onto the street, the families or gangsters sitting on those steps playing cards, chatting or dealing. Downtown its streets are the labyrinth of a man with no imagination. Avenues are perpendicular to
streets. Streets names ascend as one moves north. Avenue numbers ascend as one moves east. I expected all this. I expected what was here. And for once expectations are met – not exceeded, not disappointed. This city that I have often thought about is at it is. The New York as presented by the media is – as far as I can tell – the New York that exists on Manhattan Island. The whole experience is bizarre. The surreal is rapidly becoming real. Every time I see/smell/hear a symbol of New York, one more dimension of the imagined city becomes concrete. The sacred is rendered profane. The surreal, real.

I am, as you would expect, still digesting. The city, I am sure, will outlast the depth of my imagination and soon new symbols will erect themselves on the ruins of the old.

The room I secured in the house in Spanish Harlem is, well, a hovel in a dive. Perhaps that is too cruel but it certainly isn't nice. 'Fully furnished' is a convertible couch and a leather chair. Close to Columbia is a half-hour walk (okay now but in minus-seven?) My only towel is the bathmat. Every 7 minutes a cockroach flits from one side of the room to the other. I am worried there will be more. The room is large but spare and dark and has a lock on the outside. All this I can
cope with. More disappointing is that the three other roommates haven't yet left their rooms. I've heard them, and met one, but she quickly left and referred to me as 'the sublet' even after I told her my name. The neighborhood is fairly rough also – drug deals, late night burnouts, no intimidation yet but the potential for it. I have begun searching for a new place – tough at the moment because of the influx of uni students. Perhaps I am being dramatic and the place is
comparatively good. I shall soon find out.

Overall the experience has been fine. Today I bought a phone, opened a bank account, and cracked the subway system. Not bad for a country boy. Especially when it's swelteringly hot (30 today, so they say). Tonight I'm staying at the Roosevelt Hotel (cheers William J Fulbright) and have a four-day orientation programme, beginning tomorrow with a scavenger hunt.