By Carol Daly
If you’ve never lived in or visited New York City and experienced the subway you have missed an entire culture made up of many cultures existing for the most part underground and underneath New York City and its boroughs. It’s one of the largest and complex systems in the world. The NYC subway system is constantly being repaired, renovated, upgraded, downgraded, changed, rerouted, advertised –all to the incredible inconvenience of the “straphangers” as we riders are called. Announcements on the train are automated with a female voice calling out the stops and a male voice giving commands such as “stand clear of the closing doors please, if you see something say something” and my favorite “a crowded subway car is no excuse for sexual misconduct and unlawful behavior.” How come the male voice gives all the commands? When the voices are ‘live’ they are often inaudible and everyone looks at each other in wonderment trying to figure out what had been said.
No where can you find such a diversity of age, culture, dress, smells, languages, conversations, new acquaintances, spectacles, entertainment and annoyances, rudeness, filth, sweat, freezing and unbearably hot temperatures all in the same place travelling back and forth to various destinations for $2.50 per ride. On any given day you will find a variety of musicians strolling though the cars. There is blind man playing a pleasing though somewhat rote violin, an old woman playing the recorder quite poorly but sincerely, a team of guys pleasantly singing harmonies from 1950’s tunes and Latino trios with sombreros and accordions singing the same songs over and over again. There are also young boys doing fairly intrusive acrobats down the subways aisles in their hip hop routines demanding your attention. A kid reciting poetry he’d written said that his name was Poet and both he and his poetry were very nice. I once met a guy from Haiti in his 20’s who was an artist. On the ride to work I was astonished by his incredible art and sculpture that he showed me from his portfolio. There are beggars with every possible story concocted or true and some who are well dressed and seem to be making out well with their panhandling.
Since cell phones don’t work underground, the moment the train hits the lights and the airwaves, phones activate, beep, siren, play and conversations begin like a set of dominos swift in the current of their trail. And because New York, especially Queens, has over 250 nationalities of people, when everyone is speaking it sounds like a traffic jam symphony or an uncontrollable cacophony of sounds. Often there are cultures that speak loudly, almost shouting regardless of the time of day. Once a young man remarked to me that “they seem to be always yelling at each other and it’s annoying.” I found it ironic that he was able to comment unabashedly about members of his own culture. Other cultures consume strong spices for breakfast and their bodies take on a perfume of these spices. It’s rarely a dull ride.
After a long winter, one beautiful day this spring seemed to come out of nowhere –warm, dry and fully embraced by New Yorkers. The chatter on the train was elevated and there was a palpable excitement and freedom released that broke the usual winter silence and gloom. In summer when it gets really hot, the bare underarms and sweaty bodies can be tough to handle and everyone gets a little cranky from being a little too close. Smiles given are often returned to help ease the tension and discomfort.
Then there are the seats. I’d heard many of the “Kawasaki” cars were modeled after the Japanese versions or made in Japan. If you’ve been to Japan you know that on average they are about 5.8th’s our size. I remember going to my room in The New Takanawa Prince Hotel and looking at the bed that seemed a little smaller in length than me. Everything is a bit smaller in Japan and the subway cars were made for the average Japanese behind. The tiny petite person can choose and fit into any seat. No problem. The so called average American squeezes into the seat and the rest, and not a small percentage, take two seats leaving a sliver for someone the size of a Miss Piggy doll. Can you just figure out what happens next? There are some who will argue for the sliver and force the larger person to squeeze it in or leave the seat altogether. There are men whose upbringing drilled it into them that they SHOULD NEVER KEEP THEIR LEGS CLOSED. Some of these men actually take up three seats!!
There are substances in the trains as well and so you must check the seats before sitting down for liquid and smells. A friend of mine had an interesting combination small-seat/liquid-on-the-seat experience. She is very petite, well dressed and polite. She kindly asked two people to make a little more room for her so that she could sit down. When she sat she felt a liquid on her derriere (butt). After she sat the women next to her said “Oh the seat is wet.” My friend smelled pickles and onions and asked the woman what had spilled on the seat and needless to say it was a pickled delicacy that had made its way to my friends behind and into the office where she works. That day she had a pickled butt!
We certainly get a live cultural education and lesson in tolerance living in New York and especially riding the subway. I’ve had so many interesting encounters and experiences. When I worked in corporate America, our home office in California, the car driving Californians could not believe the level of closeness and interaction required of New Yorkers!
All in all I appreciate having the subway system and I love New York in all its pain and glory! The song by Vernon Duke says it all:
“Autumn in New York, Why does it seem so inviting?
Autumn in New York, its spells the thrill of first nighting,
Glittering crowds and shimmering clouds in canyons of steel,
They’re making me feel, I’m home.
Autumn in New York, transforms the slums into Mayfair
Autumn in New York, you’ll need no castles in Spain!
Lovers that bless the dark, on benches in Central Park
Greet Autumn in New York,
It’s good to live it again!”
