Two Months in Manhattan

I was very apprehensive about how I would fare in New York City, accustomed as I am to my simpler life in Mexico. Turns out Manhattan and Guanajuato are more alike than I expected, partly because both places are pedestrian-friendly so there's always something to see along the street..

But right away I encountered a big difference in the skyscraper city. When I arrived, November 1, the days were already short. To my horror, that meant complete darkness by 5pm, a very difficult change for me--the night was going to be much longer than I was used to. In fact, I hardly ever slept as well in New York as I do back in Mexico.

In the daytime there hundreds of offsetting benefits in this city where every block is different. First of all, the New Yorkers themselves, who almost without fail are clear and patient in giving directions. Then, on clear days, I would see the pearly, later salmon-colored sunrise behind the tall buildings, the view across the water from the southern tip of Manhattan, the last leaves turning color in Central Park, all these sights so different from what I experience in Mexico, brought back intense memories of my former North American life.

My son, whose apartment I used, thought I might bring bedbugs with me so when I arrived he was there to greet me, wash all my clothes, and even throw away the cheap duffel he told me to use. Eventually, course, I had to replace it. I found an inexpensive suitcase south of West 130^th Street on the edge of Harlem, a trip I probably wouldn't have made otherwise. Two side benefits, a good view of the Hudson River and a walk through a park I hadn't known about.

During most of my winter stay, the weather was mild by New York standards, but I didn't know that it would be. The first week I went twice to the Salvation Army my thrift shop on West 46^th between 10^th and 11^th Avenues outfitting myself for cold days. I found what looked life a new pair of black polar fleece pants and a green wool jacket made in Austria to supplement the jacket lent by my son's mother-in-law. Without lugging heavy clothes, I had what I needed on the days the wind blew cold.

I made other thrift shop buys before I left, enough so I had to leave a few clothes behind to be below the maximum weight the airlines allow. But as I had bought the clothes inexpensively, I was still ahead of the game. And when the sole of my left shoe split clear across one day. I had to do something fast. Fortunately I was near Daffy's, a cheap department store a friend had mentioned. I bought a comfortable, stylish pair of Timberland shoes for less than fifty dollars that solved my problem and are bringing me compliments in Guanajuato.

The prices on produce and groceries in New York City supermarkets were high but eating out, although more expensive than I was used to, was a pleasure. Nearly every day, I ate in either an ethnic restaurant patronized by people from the old country or a buffet restaurant where I could custom-pick what I wanted.

Ninth Avenue, near where I stayed in New York's West side, offers reasonably priced restaurants to suit many tastes. Without any special effort, I ate Thai soup, Japanese teriyaki, Punjabi lentils and rice, Ethiopian crepes, Chinese noodle soup, a Vietnamese chicken sandwich, Spanish pudding and even once or twice Mexican tacos.

On the East side, I usually ended up at The Tomato, a buffet just off Lexington Avenue and not far from the Museum of Modern Art, featuring thirty choices options of healthy food at $5.99 a pound. I found that I usually did eat about a pound of food, whether I went heavy on the shrimp or on macaroni. I chose from plenty of vegetables and I could pick out the fruit I wanted, say a strawberry, some pineapple chunks, and a piece of melon from the mixed fruit. Coffee added 99 cents to my bill. I also went to another buffet, more Asian in flavor, on Beaver Street near the National Museum of the American Indian, near the south tip of Manhattan.

Besides eating, shopping, and looking at the sky on clear days, what else did I do? I met friends several times, went to the theater twice, a concert at Lincoln Center, and the hit movie in Spanish, Volver, that was getting a lot of attention. I had sessions of physical therapy for a sore shoulder and I traveled from New York to visit my family. But I spent much of my time in the city walking.

New York, like Guanajuato, my adopted Mexican city, is a walker's paradise. Along the way I could glimpse true New Yorkers as they went about their everyday life. New York is like the Tower of Babel, different languages and dialects on every side. And for every social and physical type, there were so many instances--so many young professionals, so many men in turbans, so many older women like me, often pulling a shopping cart.

By the end of my trip, I knew that even with a reasonable place to stay, a long visit to New York City has both its ups and downs. I spent more time accomplishing daily necessities than I expected and less time being a tourist. I did some of everything I planned to do but nothing as much as I had hoped. So would I fly north to the Big Apple if my son offers to lend me his apartment again?

You betcha!