Crowds bring out the worst in me. Actually, people in general bring out the worst in me … because I’m a control freak.
Thus, my parents found it strange that I was on a quest to live in New York. In my mind, although I hadn’t yet been to New York, I knew I wanted to live there, and train in such an occupation such as Journalism. As I was in California imagining cityscapes of Whitney Port and her MTV stars walking the streets as I passed them, New York City was busy with hustling and bustling in its blistering August heat.
Traveling is madness. The first step into the airport, and “Delta” was the only word going through my head. We walked in a few circles, kept our heads up, and finally found the “Delta Airlines” section of the airport. Then, comes the worst part of flying: security. It wouldn’t be a big deal if you didn’t have to take everything you’re wearing off, put it into bins, and walk through the metal detector in fear that you will be pulled aside and patted down.
After waiting for a few hours, my mom and I scurried through the plane, we found our seats next to a young lady, with short hair. We greeted each other with a slight smile and a “Hi, I’m in seat A”. Once the flight began, so did the petty conversations, and the “Where are you from?” small talk, that sitting next to strangers on a plane normally leads to. But this girl eventually began talking about how she escaped from Iraq and the Islam religion, and how she served in the military, as every Iraqi girl was required to do. It began the journey that opened my mind to a different culture.
Even throughout the chaos of people in NYC (of which I did not enjoy); I was enjoying the newness of a crazy place, and I was ecstatic for THE LION KING play on Broadway. On the way there however, is when I truly realized that I could never live in such a place: it’s like Disneyland … but real life … (and I strongly dislike Disneyland!).
The next morning, even though I no longer cared for the city, I was so excited to go on my first college visit: NYU. Scheduled to check-in at 8:30 AM, our alarm went off at 7:55; and I still had to get ready and walk there in a half-hour! Thus a spasmodic, breakfast-less morning followed, including a mad taxi driver, and my frantic and chaotic mother. Shockingly, we made it. …And we were early. NYU apparently expected that to happen, and therefore told us to arrive much earlier than we needed to. Go NYU.
While I was there, I didn’t quite appreciate as much as I should’ve, but I did learn how blessed I am to live where I do, and have what I have. The fact that I don’t want to hit people with my purse out of frustration every time I walk down the street, and that I don’t have to go into the military as a young girl made me more appreciative of what I have. New York City, although did not fulfill the greatness of my imagination, taught me a lot about appreciating an experience and the life I am lucky enough to lead. The Big Apple filled me with gratitude and perspective on what I have, and left me with a flavor I will savor forever.
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