New York

I became acquainted with America through the stories my grandfather shared with me. It was the America with a capital “A” – the one that orchestrated the Marshall Plan to aid nations it had engaged in war with. My grandfather, a veteran of World War I, raised my father amid the scarcity of World War II. A genuine bond connected them to that era.

During those times, my grandfather formed a unique connection with Americans stationed in Italy. He would exchange cigarettes for bread, sustaining his family through their provisions. This exemplified the generous spirit of America and its link to New York, a place where both good  and bad  experiments were conducted, for the rest of the world.

In the sweltering summer of 2004, I arrived in New York City with only a suitcase and a hint of European arrogance. New York is a commanding yet organized chaos, with energy pulsating from its very streets. The city’s grid-like blocks possess the remarkable ability to foster communities within the concrete jungle.

The America with capital A

New York isn’t solely a hub of Wall Street guys or business men, but rather a realm of individuals driven by the desire to take action – regardless of the endeavor. This realization took time, especially coming from Paris, where my European perspective needed dismantling. Once I grasped that the essence lay in acceptance of what is, not what should be, I began to thrive.

Speed is the essence of New York – a swift city where things move rapidly. I recall watching a towering skyscraper rise at a pace of one floor per day from my Hell’s Kitchen studio in 2004. Much like dating, real estate in New York requires to see many before   finding  the right fit.

The heart of New York lies in the 90%, not the elite 10%, despite Bloomberg’s view. While the fate of that privileged 10% remains uncertain, Bloomberg’s influence did alter the fabric of Manhattan’s blocks. The ongoing struggle between preserving the old and embracing the new will persist until the last block undergoes redevelopment.

Yet, amidst these changes, the streets remain rugged, cab rides a rollercoaster, and within a mere five-minute taxi journey, wisdom from every corner of the globe can be gleaned. I’ve garnered more insight from New York’s taxi rides in a year than I ever did in five years of schooling. As one cab driver told me one day, ” I love New York because I can see  all four seasons in a single day, from morning to night”.

New York slumbers on its own schedule; while I awaken, others retire, for the city pulses 24/7. This dynamic rhythm negates the myth of getting lost in Manhattan. Trust me, getting lost isn’t an option – there’s always someone’s hand  around you. As Springsteen says

“Son, we’re lucky in this town,
It’s a beautiful place to be born.It just wraps its arms around you,
Nobody crowds you and nobody goes it alone”.

A true New Yorker isn’t necessarily born in New York; they hail from elsewhere. Every return visit reminds you that New York just  awaits you – provided you have  a passport!

They say  you made it in New York if you  have a washer and dryer.   I would append the passport!