The Other Dirty City
Everyone knows of the longstanding rivalry between New York City and Boston, the difference being principally that Boston is immeasurably cleaner and immeasurably more boring than the Big Apple. Last weekend I went to Philadelphia where, it struck me, that city is much more comparable to New York City. Only it was quieter. Much, much quieter. It seemed to me to be a condensed and de-populated New York City. My only other memory of Philly was from about four years ago, when I LOVED it. For months after that visit I talked about moving to Philadelphia when I graduated from college. My visit last weekend was shorter and therefore perhaps not as fair as the visit four years ago. I recall that at that time, I visited with a friend who grew up in New York City, and it really annoyed me how he always compared a place unfavorably to New York City. I distinctly recall commenting to other friends how Matt seemed to think that New York City was the best place on earth. However, on this visit, I felt myself making similar comparisons.
I wonder if this change represents a fundamental shift in my values. For years before I moved to New York City, I lived just a couple of hours north of the city, and I had friends that lived in Brooklyn that I would visit occasionally on the weekends. At that time, I really liked Brooklyn. I almost liked Brooklyn better than Manhattan. Manhattan had glitz, but Brooklyn had brownstones. Manhattan seemed like a place to visit, but Brooklyn seemed like a place where people lived. Then, just a couple of months before I moved to the city, my boyfriend moved down, and he moved into the Lower East Side (Manhattan). Visiting him, I was blown away. First of all it hadn't even occurred to me to think that vaguely affordable housing was available anywhere in Manhattan. Second of all I couldn't get over how positively "hot" (it is really the only word I can use here) it was to have an apartment on the L.E.S. (which is the ultra hip/not-hip way to refer to the Lower East Side). So I moved the Lower East Side too, and I now I scoff at people who live in Brooklyn. I mentally label them as "suckers."
This past week, while I am turning all of this over in my head, I happen to be reading The Corrections (by Jonathan Franzen). In the book, someone who has been living in Philly for years visits Brooklyn and, "The borough seems to her a Philadelphia rescued by adjacency to Manhattan." That this book creates a parallel between Brooklyn and Philadelphia, and that at some recent point my leanings switched from the relative quiet of Brooklyn/Philadelphia to the headlong "glitz" of Manhattan seems to me somehow meaningful.
Then again I have to remind myself that where I live in Manhattan is far from glitzy, and that in fact, a friend who was visiting recently thought that we were in Queens. Which is certainly an insult if I've ever heard one.
Anyway, in Philly we went to a club where a Brazilian band was playing, in celebration of "Carnivale." What impressed me, more than the music, were the dancers. They wore costumes bordering on lingerie, and were able to shake their bodies with amazing skill. Since then I have been practicing, but I don't think white people are built with the proper motor skills. We also snuck into the Franklin Institute Science Museum and got to walk through a gigantic heart. The age machine, unfortunately, was broken.
The other exciting thing about going to Philly was that we took the infamous Chinatown bus. The Chinatown buses go between Chinatowns in different cities--New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington D.C.--for cheap. There is apparently bloodthirsty competition between the different carriers, which can occasionally result in murder. Not of passengers though. The trip was actually quite calm and sane. I did not fear for my life at all. They even showed us movies.
With the warm weather this weekend, I feel as if I am discovering the city anew. I spent a long time walking around, and really looking around me. I visited Tompkins Square Park both yesterday and today. This park has the merit, not only of being a park, but of featuring a rather large fenced in area where dog-owners can bring their dogs and let them loose to frolic with the other dogs. There is something oddly enchanting, almost empowering, about standing at the fence watching dogs run around, shamelessly humping, biting, chasing, and rolling.
