New Yorker
It's been three days since I came to New York.
Even in the same US, I was surprised by the extreme difference in atmosphere compared to Los Angeles. On the contrary to LA's spacious and open air, NY seems like a sophisticated model. Besides, the severe problem is their temperature. While in LA, you even feel hot in a short-sleeved shirt; you can't let the gloves and winter hat go off in NY.
There's no wonder when you spread the map —— you can tell how far apart both cities are, almost the same distance from Tokyo to Bangkok.
NY is a unique city, covered with the vigorous noise made by the citizens with full hope for the future, but sometimes the stinky smell of marijuana tears the brightness dizzyingly, as if it tells us the existence of darkness. You'll bump into unknown musicians begging for tips every 100 yards under the ground, where the above is the worldwide known financial firm. Many white people with bland clothes enjoy the Christmas market in Manhattan, but when I took trains and buses for 1.5 hours to get back to the town where I'm staying now, solely not tidy black people waiting for buses.
Someone described this city as a "Melting pot of races," but I felt the truth is "Melting chocolate of races" —— separated into two parts: "white" oil and "black" cacao.
I can't stop thinking about this contradiction whenever I walk on the bustling road. Is a haggard man singing "Santa Claus is coming to town" really looking forward to Christmas? Is a homeless lying in front of the Statue of Liberty really free? Is a woman covered with luxury items really wealthy? Once these questions emerge in my mind, this kind of ironic daydream lasts until the ambulance siren interrupts.
Today, I suddenly wanted to pretend to be a "New Yorker." A New Yorker is the kind of person who has strong self-confidence, can make friends with everyone, and spends their alone time elegantly. I'm aware of having only the last one out of these three terms, so I'm curious about if I could pretend to be them. In other words, I thought it was necessary to be a New Yorker to put away my weaknesses and find a new side of myself.
I was just walking around Manhattan alone, without taking a picture or posting SNS, as this scenery is quite ordinary for them. (To be honest, I can't help taking only one picture of a man imitating Donald Trump in front of Trump Tower) All I did was walk, pretending to be interested in nothing in New York.
Why did I do such a meaningless thing? I have no idea, too. It was just for fun. I prefer to pretend to be local when visiting a strange place, to be a totally different person.
Walking in the freezing cold, I continue to ask myself: Are you a New Yorker? Was this way of greeting similar to theirs? Didn't the man who passed by me realize I was just an Asian who had been in NY for only three days?
I was a bag of nerve, I guess.
The more I asked myself if I was fitting in the city, I felt like I was no more than an outsider.
The sound of Christmas songs and the uproarious atmosphere refuse me.
Huh, apparently, I can pretend to be a New Yorker, but I can never be a New Yorker.
It is difficult to change the characteristic suddenly, sad to say.
A woman begging in the subway must have been feeling like this. I was also a contradicting part of this city, in short.
Going into a quiet alley, I entered a small, settled cafe for coffee. I ordered a cup of a small Latte, trying to seem like it had been a thousand times I ordered one here.
"Happy holidays."
I always feel guilty about saying this greeting because I don't wish for happy holidays at all. This word is a masquerade to hide my weakness.
"You too."
This response reassures me. Someone might say I mustn't care about these trifles to be a New Yorker. Yes, exactly. I know it, too. However, hearing this response from the excellent barista, I suddenly realized there was no problem with failing.
Although I couldn't be a New Yorker, I could live in New York.
Since various people are in the city, no one cares who is a stranger.
I wasn't a New Yorker, but everyone accepted me.
NY was a town that had such tolerance for visitors.
A woman who was kind enough to give us a bag when we were at a loss to be ripped open.
A man who kindly taught us an excellent restaurant to eat.
...and, of course, the 4 BFFs who brought me into this beautiful world!!
Cheers to everyone who met on this voyage!
I felt the NY's winter cold blew before Christmas warm for some reason.
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