Jeni as a Bangladeshi

 

It’s been my second day out of work, and I’ve been stuck in my room with a fever. Feeling absolutely unproductive, I dragged myself to the local store to pick up some medicine, groceries, and a few "discounted" dvds (by discounted I mean $1 per DVD - you get my point). After sorting through the ones that actually worked on my laptop, I plopped on my bed to watch (of all choices) Reign Over Me, the movie starring Don Cheadle and Adam Sandler based in post 9-11 New York City. The movie itself wasn’t particularly spectacular. But it did strike a chord, as I noticed that I recognized almost every block, street corner, and shop in the movie.  And if not the exact location, I could tell which neighborhood it was, by the people, the buildings, the scene, the mood. the Starbucks on Astor Place. Sushi Lounge with its 50% off delivery menus. the record store on St. marks. the part of Park Ave right above Union Square. Central Park West. With a knot in my throat, I sat through the movie wrapped in my own state of nostalgia.

The thing about New York is that even though it always seems to be portrayed by outsiders as an overwhelmingly large and impersonal city, it is in actuality quite small to the individual inhabitants. The ubiquitous selection of shops and stores everywhere allows people to pick out their own laundromats, bodegas, cafes, falafel/pizza shacks, thereby drawing out boundaries for each one’s ‘neighborhood.’ Aside from commuting to work, or meeting friends on the weekends, people usually like to stick around their own self-defined areas. Which is why I tend to disagree with those who imagine New York as one big metropolis with a homogeneous population of strangers. Each neighborhood, each area, each street, is different from the other and made unique by those who have identified it as part of their ‘neighborhood.’ And this makes the city a personal thing for all of us who have lived there. In many ways, we are actually closer to our neighborhoods because the sheer size of our apartments makes it hard to spend too much time enclosed indoors. So much of our lives actually happen outside - on those street corners, the cafes, the 24-hour diners, the local bars. they’re like an extension of our homes. I think, ultimately, this is why New Yorkers identify so much with the city, and miss it when away from it for too long. People I talk to here comment on how passionate I am when talking about New York, but it certainly helps that many of them are extremely interested in hearing about it (until I mention that I’ve never been up the Empire State Building - gosh, what kind of New Yorker am I??). I can’t help it; I’ve always had a love affair with New York, and having lived there for much of my early twenties, in many ways the city played a significant part in my own growth.

Okay, so the original point of this entry has been lost within all this fever-induced rambling, and I’m no longer sure what I was trying to get at. But what I am quite sure about is that I’m high on Tylenol, I’m a bit miserable being cooped up in this room, and I miss home.