I love New York

It was not the perfect beginning for my first trip to New York City, the night I arrived was freezing cold, and my ride (now my fiancé) was 25 minutes late picking me up, stopped by to say hi to his mom he said! I was so angry and cold that I had him drop me off my hotel and leave, a move I shortly regret as I was dying to go explore the city I’ve always dreamed about, but was too scared to go walking its streets alone at night! So like spoiled kid, I called him to come and pick me up again, and he did.
I was staying at the Hyatt Manhattan, so the minute I got out of the hotel door, I was in “The New York”, the tall, enormous skyscrapers, the bright lights, the hustling sellers, the rude and always on-the-run New Yorkers, the loud noises of police cars, yelling people, car horns, beautiful. Right next door to the hotel was Grand Central Station, to my company “a native new Yorker” the trains were his mean for daily commute around the city, nothing exciting, to me, it was AWESOME, I scream like a kid a candy store “I wanna go in there”, “the train station??!!” he said with a confused look on his face, “YES.” and we go in.
Mad people everywhere, running in all directions, I’m in my own little world remembering all the New York movies and books that I’ve seen and read, inhaling it all in. We walk to “junior’s” or what he calls “the best cheesecake place ever” at the bottom floor of the station, I’m thinking to myself “In Egypt, I don’t think we have cheesecake stores at our train stations, and if we do, not sure I’d wanna try it, but why not?”, we go into this tiny store, and I stare at all the delicious-looking and colorful cakes they have on display, we get a little piece, and OH MY GOD, it truly was the best cheesecake I’ve ever had, just amazing, Junior is a senior in my book.
We devoured that cake so fast that we were done before we paid for it! After a little bit more exploring of the station, we walk out of there, and head directly to Times Square, I’m still in a New York state of mind, Frankie and Streisand’s New York songs keep playing in my head, while my eyes see flashes of Woody Allen’s movies. People of all races, colors, and cultures are walking down the streets like no where I’ve seen yet in my life. I’m delighted by the sight of Halal food carts around the corners, shawerma, gyros, falafel, kabab…etc. they’re all closed as they only operate mornings serving breakfast and lunch from 8-5 for the city’s hustling residents, I’ll be at this street at 7 am tomorrow morning anyways.
The famous New York Bohemians grab my attention, the artist in me have always fantasized about moving to the city, write, paint, take pictures and work on my dreams, as they all are. They wore Colorful clothes, dirty sometimes, but always unique. My friend points to his high school which happens to be the same school Al Bacino and Robert De Nero went to as well, among many other well known performing artists he added, he said it so casually like it’s no biggy! I went to a school where “Marwas” and “Dinas” went, not Al Bachinos! Not even Medhat Sarwat went to any school I’ve ever been to. He told me stories about meeting all sort of artists on the street, coffee shops, museums, and at school, Alec Baldwin, Woody Allen, Spike Lee, “you met Woody Allen?” I say with amazement, “yeah, he’s racist though, not all that talented I think, and never casts any black people in any major roles in his movies” my friend declared, now that he mentioned it, I don’t recall seeing black people in Allen’s movies, interesting! The smoke coming from underneath and spreading in the air makes the whole thing seem too much like a movie scene, some sort of special effects that I thought was “so cool”, my friend points out to me that it’s garbage and pollution smoke! I still thought it was cool. We finally get to Times Square, the lights are so bright, the signs are so attractive, the people (mostly tourists) are cheerful and loud, the musicals billboards are all over the place, the amazing energy, the rush, the rush is just incredible.
I saw both sides of the city, Spike Lee’s dirty, rude, rough, cruel provocative and controversial side of it, and Streisand’s romantic, dreamy, sunny, and musical side. That night it was so cold, that my finger tips and toes were literally numb! Everyone had what looks like their entire wardrobe on, Except for my friend of course, who had on a t-shirt and a jacket, seemed suicidal to me, but if he can take it, let him! Something about New Yorkers, they seem to think that if you’re from any other state, you’re dumb and naive! They have this “I don’t care” attitude about them, this “I’m tough, I’m from New York, therefore I can kick your ass” persona! I on the other hand, had three different jackets on! And a huge scarf, and was still cold. We get to this nice Italian restaurant on the corner, the place is warm and huge, I take my jackets off one by one, and we sit down. We asked for a menu, and were told that they don’t have any, it’s all written on the walls, now sitting by the wall, the menu was right above us and pretty difficult for us to read it, we asked for a written one, and the waiter puts his hands in his waist and says “No! I told you, we don’t have any.” He removes his hand from his waist and makes a gesture asking us to stand up saying “Get up and move back and read it off the wall” instead of getting mad, I get a fit of hysterical laughter, the waiter’s rudeness was so funny to me, it is true what they say about these New Yorkers!
After dinner we go walking down to the fashion district, where I’m told all the major fashion shows happen. We walk into this little park in front of the Grace building, where I see tents with designers’ names on it, and a lot of preparations for an upcoming show going on, I see them set the runway at 12 in the morning. I get to my room and throw myself on the bed, wake up 5 minutes later at 6 am! I requested a room on one of the higher floors so I can see more of this energetic city, when I asked the front desk for a room “with a view” she looked at me funny and said “we don’t have a room with a view Hun, we’re surrounded by buildings all around” I smile and say “that’s the view!!!!” I walk to the window of my 36th floor room and look down at the street, dozens of cabs, hundreds of people, police cars, merchandise on display on the sidewalk, the sky high buildings, food carts, oh, I gotta go get my New Yorker shawerma sandwich.
That morning it must have been like – 20 c degrees, I literally ran to the cart as I was so cold, I grabbed a chicken shawerma sandwich and sat on a bench to eat it, it was very tasty, I didn’t really mind the ten hungry pigeons that gathered at my feet! But my fingers became so cold that I thought they were gonna fall off! I ran across the street to a Starbucks and walked in while holding back my pain tears as my fingers were THAT cold! Speaking of Starbucks, there’s one on every single corner, if you get one cup of coffee, you’d pass three more before you’re finished drinking.
I rush to my hotel room and put even more clothes on, and head back down stairs, I continue my journey of walking down NYC streets, with eyes wide open with excitement. The M&M factory, Downtown Marriott, Virgin mega-store, that was really a MEGA-store, it took me an hour checking their first floor shelves alone. I keep reminding myself to buy me one of those “I heart NYC” shirts or mugs or key chains, but I thought I’d wait till I’m going back to my room so I don’t walk around carrying lot of things.
The truth of the matter is, New York City surprisingly resembles Cairo a lot, traffic, noise, carts, people, garbage on the streets, the mixture of smells, only fewer mosques, and higher buildings. Until now I can’t really say that I’ve seen anything here, I still have to go to the Met, Central Park, and the Metropolitan Museum for Modern Art, and so much more, the only museum I’ve been to here is the Brooklyn museum, so much more to see. I walked down Broadway, but didn’t actually go to a musical yet, I wonder what my first will be! The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, Mama Mia, I don’t know, is Chicago still playing? I would love to see that.
My New York native friend asks me “so, why New York? What’s the fascination about this noisy, crowded city?”, “I dunno exactly, from the time I was a kid, I watched all these movies and cartoon that took place here, also most of the American literature I came across was either happening here, or the author was from here, or lived here! Something always connected the idea of art, freedom, and self expression in my head with this city”, “true, but it’s just way too many people for this little city, it’s crazy, you can’t drive, can’t park, can’t afford a spacious place…etc”, “yeah, but it’s likewise back home, Cairo is crazy, just not the same opportunities, here people come to find themselves, there you lose yourself, between errand, social restrictions, and cultural rules, you’re trapped, and worst of all, everyone minds YOUR business, here people don’t have time but for their own business, I like their I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude, what and who you are is simply determined by what you can offer, that’s one trait I like a lot” I finish my little speech and ask him why he moved out of the city “well, it was too much, I live only an hour away, and I do miss it, but the traffic and the crowd was too much, also everything here is twice its price anywhere else” he catches his breath and looks around a bit “but I’d move back”, “I know at some point I will too” I say smiling with a dreamy look in my eyes.
I wake up the next morning, and tears fill my eyes, yes, ACTUAL TEARS, I’ve never cried over leaving anywhere before but Cairo, but this time I was truly sad to be leaving. I get up and get ready, pack my bags and head out, grab my last New York cup of Joe, and take a mental picture of this beautiful, nasty, loud, crazy, rude, amazing, self centered, artistic, arrogant, vibrant city. The minute I got on the plane, I remembered, I didn’t get my “I heart NYC” shirt, didn’t buy anything! I was so busy looking around, and exploring that I forgot to shop, WHO COMES HERE and doesn’t shop? What’s the matter with me?
As a kid, I thought I’d like to live in New York City, then after graduating, I moved to the USA, but my first stop was the West coast, a year later I moved closer, to the Midwest, another year passed by and I moved here, the East coast, fifty minutes away from the Big Apple, I sit here typing this on my bed, looking at a sign outside my window that says “East New York”, so naturally, the next move isA is New York. It is not just the city and the hustle, not just the little girl’s dream and fantasies, not just the museums and theaters, the metropolitan opera and the Broadway musicals, but mainly the chance, a chance to do what I really want, write, tell my stories, find a publisher, and begin my journey, I don’t know exactly when and what I’ll start with, but I know from where, leave everything behind, job, stress, restrictions, financial obstacles, and do it, write, and write and write, in New York City.

Noha Elsewaify,
09/18/2008
Pennsylvania, USA

Home

What is it that makes "Home" so special? is it the faces? the memories? the familiarity of everything? or is it just cause it's home?
I wanted to be independent, to be on my own, to see if I can make it all by myself, to try it all, then stamp it YES or NO for myself, that I did.
Still I'm lost, still unsatisfied, so now what? Egypt is amazing, there is nothing like Cairo, ElQuahera is the best city in my opinion still, with the traffic, with the dirt, with the noise, and people all in you business, kobry October, restrictions, rudeness, sexual harassment on the go! the red-tape, the mad prices, the long lines, the smell of sweat, the racism, the anti-feminist comments and rules, sharaf elbent, people looking at me funny when I say what I really think, stubborn and ignorant old men, stupid comments, "3amal elmar2a" yes or no!!!!! getting stuck in traffic when some insignificant "Folan" is driving somewhere, requiring dozens of poor soldiers to stand, back to the roads, in the burning sun! the pressure of finding a husband before I'm an old maid! boring TV, talentless movies, along with the holiness, the sense of belonging, the familiar streets, the simplicity of things, my best friend, the prayers calls, Elkorba, mama, Arabic signs in the streets, the best sense of humor, girls night out, warmth, baba, evenings with my cousins watching Mohamed Sobhy, family gatherings, driving to Alex on weekends, late phone calls, the smell of food, knowing I'm safe with mom and dad in the next room, my BFF is a block away, arguing with friends about the sexual orientation of Tamer Hosni, The Eid prayer, Ramadan, oh, Ramadan, that's the worst of them all, not feeling Ramadan, "beoble, ya cabtin, za best, elbes el shoes, and 2ol hi le uncle", Elsa7el with my best friends, Elmarghany, being in the back seat of dad's car, sacred to death while he's driving, Sharm, being taken care of when I'm sick, knowing I'm so precious, that I matter, for me, just me, nice whether all year round, sitting down for lunch with my family, lunch, the main meal of the day, K.grams, K.meters, places with memories, and Egyptians, my people.
My father always taught me to sit and reflect on my life on new years eve, and to be proud of what I've accomplished throughout the year, and make a commitment to improve what I should. It'll be 2008 in two hours. my feet hasn't stepped on Egyptian ground at all in 2007, that's a damn shame, I still haven't moved to NYC to publish my best seller, or became the author I always thought I'd be, or moved to the West and became a screenwriter living by the ocean!
I'm stuck in the middle, not east nor west, certainly not home! now what?
It's not so bad here, my own place, great TV, beautiful snow, freedom, financial independence, wide variety for any and everything, new gadgets, connectivity, beautiful clothes, Target, relevance, interesting characters, new adventures, life-changing experiences, HBO, great food, rights, bills in my name, also living alone, having to explain that I didn't drive a camel to school! and that there's a logical reason behind why Muslims don't do certain things, shoveling snow off my windshield, working on the Eid, fasting alone, freezing my ass off just walking to my car, hollowness, meaningless actions! bills, having to be mature 24/7, detachment , mom and dad are not in the next door room, my BFF isn't a call away, the signs in the streets are not in Arabic, no one says Noha right, no jokes are that funny! if I quote Madrast Elmoshghybyn no one will know what the hell I'm talking about, I haven't had Ma7shy in more than a year, that's sad. no one knows why I laugh when someone says "tease".
It's a different world, and I'm caught in between the two worlds, undecided. I eat fool for breakfast while listening to Abd Elwahab, then sit writing on candle lights while listening to Nina Simone in the evening.
Soon the Clock will struck 12, Cinderella will have to go home,or else it'll be too late, cause afterwards she'll no longer be who she pretends to be, she'll go back to her real self.

Noha Elsewiafy,
Decemeber 31 2007