The excitement is clearly on all of
our faces as the bus doors slowly open. We quickly get into our single file
line which we practiced so many times before. Anxiously I wait for my turn to
jump into the rapidly-moving line of kids eager for a new experience. I have
dreamt of this opportunity for years and now that it is here, I feel as though
everyone is moving in slow-motion. I resist the overwhelming urge to push the
others along and soon I am exiting the hot bus which smells of rotting food and
anxious kids desperately in need of a shower. The years of waiting and
anticipation are finally over and here I am standing in complete amazement,
smack-dab in the middle of Manhattan,
New York.
Nothing
could have prepared me, or the other small-town tourists, for the breath-taking
views in front of us. Buildings stretching so high our necks cramp looking up
at them, taxis in every color rushing through the busy streets, lights on
buildings and traffic signs, and people…way more people than we could have ever
imagined. I hope I do not get lost in
this sea of bustling people or separated from the group. Everyone is taking
pictures; although, most of them have no clue what they are taking pictures of.
We stand around gawking and chattering about how extravagant the city is and
soon we begin walking.
The
pushy crowd of strangers makes it nearly impossible to stay in a group. Despite
the over-crowded tangle of human bodies, we continue walking. With so many
unique sites to behold, my eyes dart in every direction. It soon becomes
incredibly easy to separate the tourists from those who call this busy city
home. I notice the crowd is stopping at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal
that it is safe to walk. To my horror, a young woman, about mid-twenties,
dressed in black knee-high boots, a form-fitting pencil skirt, and a light blue
shirt which complements her striking blue eyes and flowing blonde hair, comes
running through the traffic. She turns and yells back to us “You cannot wait
for the signs in New York!
If you do, you will never make it anywhere you intend to go!” Hmm, that seems logical, there is so much
traffic. We follow her lead and cross the street while angry cab drivers
honk their horns furiously.
Our
tour guide asks if we noticed all the police officers. Soon, I realize there is
one standing on each street corner. We are told that is how they cleaned up the
once filthy city, by keeping an officer on every corner so they do not miss a single
thing. I sure am glad there is an
abundance of police officers when there is this many people! They look
extremely focused on their strenuous job which brings comfort to our small-town
group.
Now
that we have reached a main street, we see vendors in every direction unyieldingly
attempting to sell us shirts in every color imaginable, brightly colored key
chains, sunglasses in all styles, and nearly every other item imaginable. I am
pulled aside by a guy, about mid-sixties, with wild, frizzy gray hair and a
faded tattoo of an eagle with the American flag coming out of its mouth. He
begins talking in a low raspy voice about his merchandise, describing, in great
detail, how his items are one-of-a-kind. I struggle to understand what he is
saying, but eventually I tell him I am not interested. He then talks about
fighting in the Vietnam War; it is clear that if I do not just walk away, I
will be stuck there for a long time so I simply leave the man muttering to
himself about how selfish society has become.
Wait. Where did the rest of the group go? Oh
my gosh! Run and find them! My legs begin moving without my control. My
thoughts are jumping everywhere because I have no clue where to go. This is
such a strange city and so much bigger than anywhere I have ever been before. I
dart through the crowds of people, trying my best not to knock anyone down. It
is excruciatingly difficult to not be distracted by the swirling aromas of
sweet, delectable food just waiting to be tried but I continue dodging the
people and soon my group is within my sight. Whew! That was scary! The rest of the group is giggling and making
jokes about how silly I am for getting lost. I can’t blame them..silly me, getting caught up in some story.
We
continue the long trek through the wonderful city and I am amazed at how
quickly everything can change. One moment I can smell sweet desserts and the
next I am taken aback by the horrendous, gut-wrenching smell of sewers desperately
needing to be cleaned out. All of a sudden the scenery changes and we are no
longer with crowds of people and the busy streets. The ally is dark and damp,
but we are told we are safe. The graffiti on the walls are so exquisite no one
can deny it is a work of art. The next thing we know, we are back in the swarm
of people and cars. The scenes change so quickly that it becomes hard to take
it all in. One thing stands out, the random tree’s that are placed in the
middle of concrete on the sidewalks. Well,
I suppose if you do not have much nature naturally, you have to create it
yourself. Loud noises are everywhere: police cars, ambulances, honking
horns, people yelling, and songs from the radios of cars with their windows
down. To many, the noise is simply noise but to me it is calming and beautiful,
almost a song of sorts. The various sounds combine into melodious chaos, each
sound carries its own story.
The
busy sidewalks are lined with giant buildings stretching their bodies to the
sky. Some of these ostentatious frameworks are shops, some restaurants, and
some museums. We begin to venture off on our own and a group of us girls enter
a beauty shop. Our eyes grow as big as a full moon when we see all the
cosmetics from which we can choose. I carefully select a small container of
blush, mine is running out. The light, soft, rose-shaded powder seems too
high-class for someone of my kind, so I decide to check the price before I
become too obsessed with the idea of having this special piece of make-up.
Shocked, I put the blush down and exit that portion of the store. The price of
that simple powder is $20.99, more than I could ever afford to spend on
make-up. Shortly, the other girls notice how pricey the shop is and we flee its
confinement.
We
are still giggling about the expenses in New
York when we come across a man playing guitar. He has
brown, curly hair, rich brown eyes, and skin that appears to have been kissed
by the sun. He plays a phenomenal version of “Sleeping Sickness” by City and Colour. Although I am the
only one who recognizes the song, no one can deny the beauty of it and how
intricately he plays. We each toss a few dollars into the black,
sticker-covered case he left propped open and continue walking.
Meeting
back where we were dropped off, we all wait for our bus to return. Everyone is
upset with our early departure but excited because tomorrow will hold more
adventures in this wondrous city. The bus pulls up and we all shuffle back onto
the stale, humid bus. The horrible stench does not seem to bother us the way it
did before. It must be because we are all busy chatting about our exhilarating
day. I can hardly wait until tomorrow!
Another marvelous day in this
city..nothing could be better. The bus pulls into the heavy traffic and
slowly the conversations die down. The sky turns dark like the midnight sky despite
the early hours. Soon peoples heads begin bobbing as they drift away to dream
land. I fight my eyelids to stay open so I can see all the lights from
buildings brightening the evening sky but I know my efforts will be useless. I
allow my eyes to shut and I peacefully drift into a deep slumber filled with
nothing except dreams of the astonishing city of Manhattan,
New York and
all its glory.
