Many people asked me prior to my departure what I thought it would be like living in Manhattan on 9/11. My response was always "I don't know." I wish I could say that there was fanfare, or an immediate feeling of family along the streets, but honestly it felt much like my previous first days in the city. Perhaps because I am living so far removed from Ground Zero, or perhaps because I am not a New Yorker, it all felt 'normal' (as normal as things can feel in a city or eleventy billion people). Buses ran, businesses were open, people ignored each other in the ways only a true New Yorker can.
Me, I spent my day trying to find gainful employment. As much as I have enjoyed having a few days to get settled, I need to work. I get antsy and lonely and needy and overall unenjoyable when I feel purposeless. So, Ini took me to the library, smack in the middle of Harlem in 125th st I began my search for a job that will be both fulfilling and profitable. With the departing words of 'dont talk to people unless you have to,' he abandoned me to resume reconstruction and the endless task of cover letter revision, while he headed off to queens for the afternoon, promising to pick me up on his way home. Afterall, I was almost 40 blocks from home and still not super quick with the bus system.
All in all it was a super productive day and I feel like I made a lot of headway. I was just getting in a grove using this website I found geared entirely towards non-profit jobs when all of a sudden I notice everyone around me packing up their stuff. Me, I was busy following directions and speaking to no one, not even making eye contact with the people sharing my table (I am going to be a GREAT New Yorker!). So, with my headphones stuffed in my ears and I had missed the announcement of a 5pm closing time. Hells bells! It's my second day in the City, my personal chaperon is 2 hours away in Queens (I still dont know what direction that is from me) and I have to figure out how to get myself home.
Upon walking outside, I immediately know which direction home is, as I can see Broadway street, but none of the bus numbers match the ones that run by my house. So, I set myself in a northward-bound direction and begin walking.
I may not have mentioned it before, but it rained... ALL DAY on 9/11, that was the only unusual thing about the day. I truly believe it was God crying over the city. Now rain in NYC is NOTHING like rain I have experienced anywhere else, except maybe downtown Chicago. Because of the grid-like pattern of the city and the tall buildings it rains almost straight sideways. Then once the sky has finished dumping on your head, the rooftops start. Most of the buildings here have flat roofs... as the wind blows across... well... you get the idea. A cold, misty/drizzly wetness that not only serves to soak you under your umbrella, but works in a secondary fashion to clean off the rooftops. Lord only knows what blew on me today... Yuck!
To make a long story short, after 8 blocks of walking uphill, I finally saw a bus stop featuring numbers that looked familiar and I made my way home alone. Not too shabby for a first solo outing.
The rest of the evening was spent staying home, staying dry and finishing one of the books I brought from home...
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