It seems that New Yorkers enjoy their native city least of all. After many years of living in New York, I suppose we become numb to our surroundings. Only the tourists appreciate the bright lights, abundant sidewalks, crowded streets, and unique public transit. New Yorkers scarcely attend the New Years Eve event in Times Square or the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting. I think it's time that we do. Perhaps we shouldn't start off with such largely crowded events, but maybe we can start small in a place that screams New York just as well and can occasionally be just as crowded. New Yorkers, it's time to look through the eyes of a tourist; we're going to the subway!
The platform is an impatient place for most. Anyone in a rush (which would be a majority of New Yorkers) often spends their time worrying about when the next train will arrive. They'll look up at the screens every ten seconds as if the next Manhattan-bound L train will suddenly go from eight minutes to two. With the worrying mind as a distraction, one does not notice the elegant stalactites that hang from the ceiling above the tracks. Instantly the subway platform could be transformed into our own little cave with the icicle resembling structures creating unique forms across the tracks if only we looked at anything besides the ticking of the clock. Look down and you shall see a small creek made from our collected rainwater. Listen closely and you can hear the steady drip-drop of a stalactite crying into the small river below. Enjoy the peace and qui...BAM! Your silence is immediately and happily (though you'd never admit it) interrupted by the music of our caves cultures.
A saxophonist welcomes you to Eighth Avenue with his smooth jazz melodies. The man who only sings songs by The Beatles brings you to Sixth Avenue in style. A foreign instrument which you always hear but could never figure out the name of suddenly turns 14th Street into a tropical paradise. Nearby, a guitarist uses his notes to convince you to look into his "almost a band's" tracks. In the midst of it all, you find your hips moving uncontrollably to the rhythm of the Spanish salsa music. Before you know it, you feel the slow rumbling of a nearby train and embrace the refreshing breeze that accompanies it.
The journey on the train takes you deeper into our newfound cave where graffiti art lines the tunnel walls. Take a look around and you will see how each person moves in unison according to the train's fast-paced pulse. In this moment, every person, no matter skin color, culture, gender, or age, is connected by one single train. We move according to the heart of the train and in turn, develop the underground culture of our subway cave.
