Stand Clear of the Closing Doors, Please

Taking a bus for a long-distance trip will never be easy.

When I got to the Toronto bus terminal an hour earlier than the departure time, there was already a long line of people waiting to get board. It was only Thursday evening not even the weekend had started yet.

I was a single traveler. I was lucky enough to be able to get a seat that left among those who travel with someone else. The bus left the terminal 30 minutes earlier.

I was half-excited and half-tired because of the night shifts I had.

At the border in Niagara Falls, I met an old lady who had lots of luggage.

During immigration process, I offered her a help to carry the luggage. She had 3 big bags.

On the bus, I was sitting beside the group of three, 2 guys and 1 girl. They are quite loud and I got a little annoyed, but at the end, I started to listened to their conversations then totally ignored the noise. We arrived at the Buffalo bus depot. I remained seated where I sat.

In the New York state, the main highway (like Highway 401 in Ontario) was toll highway. The bus slowed down to pass the toll gate then sped up faster and faster. I didn't want to sleep yet. It was dark, of course, but I kept staring outside through the window. It was all countryside after Buffalo.

Our bus stopped at a service area beside the highway. I got off from the bus to buy a bottle of water. I ended up with not buying anything since I didn't have U.S. changes and I didn't want to have anything from a fastfood place.

I fell asleep for a couple of hours. I woke up because the bus slowed down. We arrived to Syracuse. A guy beside me was leaning to my shoulder and still asleep with quiet breathing.

From Syracuse to New York, it was a long, long night. When I woke up, it was just before the dawn. It was raining quietly. Splish, splash, there was full of quiet sound. I longed for the Atlantic ocean and the bus rolled down smoothly on the declining hills.

The highway parallels the Manhattan island. The bus advanced to New York toward north and took a loop to the Lincoln tunnel. On the loop, I could glance buildings in Manhattan. It is nothing extraordinary after the incident, but I couldn't see the two towers that I have seen in photographs and on the TV.

Jams, jams, jams with traffic in the morning rush hour. Our bus ran smoothly on the bus lane. Soon, our bus entered a huge box of building, Port Authority Bus Terminal. I wondered how many buses were there at the bus terminal.

I got off from the bus feeling exhausted. I saw the old lady whom I helped at the border.

"I need your help again," said she.

"No problem!" said I with a big smile although I was really tired.

She told me that she would wait for her son to come to pick her up at the bench.

I told her that I would phone my friend and go to Harlem where my friend lives.

"My son has a car and we will be on the way to where you are going." said she.

I thanked her and shook our hands.

"Enjoy your stay!" said she.

After I took an escalator to go up one level, there were people, people, and people – the morning rush hour. A country boy from Toronto arrived in a world-class busy metropolitan. I recalled the time when I waited for my friend in Ueno, Tokyo after coming back from Canada.

I found a pay phone, but I forgot that I didn't have any changes.

"So... how can I get a ticket to get on the subway?"

I asked a woman standing by herself in front of one of the ticket vending machines. I didn't expect that people in a big city weren't that nice at all, especially in the morning rush hour.

"Excuse me, this is the first time visit to New York (it was a lie that I have been to New York once for a really short stay). Can you please tell me how to buy a Metro Card?"

Against my expectation, she was very friendly. It was wonderful.

My stay was only for 4 days, but I bought a week pass because it was only $25. When I paid the fare, I used my credit card. She saw my Canadian credit card and asked me where I was from.

"I am from Cahh-nada," said I with weird accent. I pretended that I was a country boy. She was even kinder and asked me if I knew where and how to get to a place. I thanked her and headed to the subway platform.

My friend emailed me the direction to get to his apartment in Harlem. My sense of direction wasn't always that bad. It was rather easy to understand the direction.

New York subway looked older and more rusted than Toronto's, but soon enough, I could feel energy from people around. I felt something special that I have never felt in Toronto, in Osaka, or even in Tokyo.

Because my friend had to work on the day, I didn't want to be a troublesome for him. I got on the subway and headed toward uptown.

When I got to a station in Harlem, I felt the same atmosphere as when I used to live in the Regent Park in Toronto, but it is such a different place at the same time. I started to feel fear with my old stereotypical images and information about Harlem from books and the other media. I felt quite alright after the 4-day stay.

During my stay, the weather was just on and off, rainy, sunny, and cloudy.

I much appreciated my friend and his friends. I really enjoyed the weekend in New York.

Only 4 days, but it was good enough for me because I am not that young any more.

P.S. It was Dave Brubeck that the black guy was playing at a subway station on the red line.