Manhattan Bound (12/21/2011)

The 11:02 Amtrak 94 Northeast Regional has just left DC's Union Station.  I'm on my way to New York to visit family and friends.  Home base will be the Upper East Side chez brother Roy and family. Evelyn and Allison will be heading south to Greenville, SC tomorrow to visit with her family. It would be stretching it a bit to say that this is a yule tide tradition, but we have parted ways in the past to spend time with each other's families for the holidays, so today is certainly not a precedent.

At the first stop, New Carrollton, Leon (not his real name) gets on and sits down beside me. I don't know his name or anything about him just yet, but as he makes himself comfortable and I readjust slightly to accommodate a second person beside me, I switch off my music, remove my headphones, and begin making conversation.  Leon hails from The west coast of Africa.  He is in his early thirties and spent his college years in the U.S., partly at University of Maryland University College, as it turns out. I tell him that I've take quite a few courses there myself.  We both wax nostalgic and enthusiastic about the richly diverse student body that once comprised UC's face-to-face environment.  Today, nearly all classes are offered online only.

Leon is recently married. He met his African wife in Philadelphia, where he happened to be heading. She lives in Africa where she is employed in the finance industry.  Leon is an entrepreneur, on the rebound from a Chinese mobile phone deal gone awry. We discuss the value of networking-a friend of a friend has helped him financially in the wake of his business fiasco, and I chime in by relating that what I enjoy most about my no longer brand new job is meeting campus faculty, staff and students and interconnecting them to those with similar interests or others who may be able to help in some way. 

Our discussion runs all over the map--literally. We chat about a pan-African union, overpopulation, political corruption, global economics, and a host of other topics. We discuss importing automobiles, aquatic farming, the mining of granite, and the movie, "Margin Call." When we part at Philadelphia's 30th Street Station, Leon points out the building where he met his wife.  I tell him that, if nothing else, I will remember that fact every time I take the train through Philadelphia, after which we finally exchange names and wish each other well on our respective life journeys. For the rest of the trip to New York, during which I have the adjacent seat to myself, I write down everything I can remember of our conversation.  When I finally look out the window, it's raining and I can just make out the New York City skyline beyond the fog and bog and grimy smokestacks that (in my mind) epitomize the worst features of that section of the New Jersey landscape. As we enter the tunnel under the Hudson River, it's 2:10pm.  Several minutes later, I step out of Pennsylvania Station and on to the sidewalk on 8^th Avenue where the bustle combined with the mild, misty weather is invigorating, especially after sitting on a train for three plus hours.  I stare through the drizzle across the street to Macy’s and up at the Empire State Building and decide to walk across town along 34^th Street.  I wind up walking all the way to my brother’s Upper East Side apartment, a distance of approximately four miles.  He greets me when I arrive at about 3:30pm.  My feet are sore, I’m dripping from sweat, and the uneven pavement has most certainly taken a toll on the wheels of my luggage, but how I do love New York!