"New York is not a city, It's a world."

Last week I stumbled across this quote..... "New York is not a city, It's a world" and this weekend the world continued to open itself up to me. Friday evening arrived, work had finished for the week and I was so ready to get on that train.

The voice comes over the microphone "next stop is Penn station". The train doors open and you step out onto the platform. Instantly you know where you are, you're here. Everyone is weaving, twisting, dodging, running, stopping, jogging and pushing to get out and up. As soon as I hit those stairs I'm already smiling before I reach the top. I'm about to get out of the Subway (honestly it's getting hot and stinky and there's always a nice collection of crazies strolling around) but I know as soon as my feet hit that pavement I'm back. I feel like I could break into a Broadway rendition of Empire State of Mind,

I'm gonna make it by any means, I got a pocketful of dreams

Baby, I'm from New York

Concrete jungle where dreams are made of

There's nothing you can't do

Now you're in New York

These street will make you feel brand new

Big lights will inspire you

Hear it for New York, New York, New York!

Nearly there.

Penn Station

7th Avenue.

7th Avenue. Penn Station. Good evening New York.

Basketball on the big screen. Madison Square Garden.

Empire State Building.

This city is breathtaking and I am beginning to see the quote coming to life. As you cross avenues and reach another block, things change. The trees are different (or non-existent is some areas), restaurants emerge, people disperse, taxis zoom past or street lights flicker. Each part playing it's own role in this big production. My feet have begun to adapt to this cities pace. I'm finding myself charging through the crowd (as dusk hits I think this is partly due to the fact that, just like a changing of the guards, some interesting characters are lining the streets). At one point I surprise myself when I actually stomped my foot like a 2 year old when the women in front of me abruptly (and yes it's abrupt, stopping is not expected) stopped to check in her handbag, I think I huffed and stomped before swiftly side stepping around her. 

  

Friday night I met up with two friends to make dinner. I made my Guacamole, and they introduced me to the baby carrots dipped in Buffalo Ranch and a jar of cheese dip (American's and cheese I tell ya!) and then some homemade chicken parmigiana (with A LOT of cheese once again).

My Guacamole for the Americans

Baby carrots and Buffalo Ranch

Chicken parma. More like cheese with some chicken.

Saturday the spring sun was out to play and so were my ghost white legs. I was determined to wear a dress. In the sun it was beautiful but when walking down the avenues, the towering buildings make it hard for the sun to win, so the story went... cardigan on, cardigan off, cardigan on, blazer on, run to make it across the road before the cars and then proceed to rip off both layers of jackets before flames engulf my body. Today my friend Bek from Au Pair training came into Manhattan and wowza the effect of not spending time with friends and being able to chat, laugh, point things out across the street and explore new things with is immense! Something I've been missing a great deal. So today, my inner Rachel was feeling juuuuuust like this picture below :)

Hi Bek!!!!

8th Avenue.

8th Avenue.

We set off to do some exploring. The sun is shinning (like my ghost legs) and we start walking uptown, with no particular destination in mind, but just so happens we stumbled across Times Square (who would have thought! Haha). But in all seriousness it's mind blowing to be able to walk the streets, unsure of which direction to walk today and to then walk into an atmosphere like Times Square and to then be able to walk straight out again because there is something else to see. 

Times Square. 

Times Square. Some little Saturday inspiration.

Our journey took us to Central Park. No pictures and no words can describe the magnificence of this place. Central Park is a city of it's own. Crossing the road in here is a skill of it's own. You have Horse and Carts, bike riders, joggers, runners, roller bladders and the odd emergency vehicle with sirens blaring so after approximately 3 turn backs we made it to the other side (I certainly hope no duckings give it a try). There are so many people in here and oh my goodness every time I turn around I'm looking at something even more beautiful (I felt sorry for Bek as I stopped every 3 steps to take a picture) .

Central Park. May.

Lets find a rock. And eat our Burrito. 

Hi there Horsie.

Central Park. May.

Central Park. May.

Central Park. May.

Baseball too!

Central Park. May.

Central Park. May.

Central Park. May.

Central Park Performers.

Central Park. Hi there pretty boat house.

Central Park. May. 

Central Park. May.

After what seemed days we reached about 1/4 of the the park, this place is seriously big (next time I need a bike). So for today we decided to step out and wander back downtown and what better place to step out onto than 5th avenue (seriously is this real?!?)

5th Avenue. Museum Mile.

5th Avenue.

5th Avenue. Street performers.

As we walked down this beautiful street, with beautiful apartments hovering above us and doormen standing...waiting for someone to greet when they arrived home, Bek and I discussed how we can make this our future (how do we get these doormen and an apartment like this..... the solution is still in the mixing pot but I'll be sure to pass on the answer when we find it).

At the moment it has been a time for doing things alone. Something 'new' I'm discovering. Choice or  only option, that's debatable but either way it's happening. After Bek left on her train home it was just me myself and I. As my precious sun started playing hide and seek and the moon was making her way into the sky I felt it was time to find somewhere indoors. Fast walking through the streets now became a bit of a game with the wind, who had decided it'd be a great idea to keep lifting my dress up. And in busy streets with people on every angle this was not a game I wanted to play. Into the Cinemas I darted. A little voice in my head questioned "you're going to see a movie alone?!" and I have to admit I have never done this before but then the other voice loud and clear over the top "who cares, it's not like you talk to each other in movies anyway". So I bought the ticket. And I discovered it's much easier to cry to the sad bits when you're not trying to hide the tears from the person next to you!!! :) 

Buttered Popcorn.

Ice cream fail. Alone AND with a broken ice cream.

Sunday morning arrived and I realised how much I missed brunch. Brunch was something the girls and I would do nearly every weekend. So it was time to discover West Village. A new part of the world. I hopped off the Subway and just put one foot in front of the other, no destination in mind. All I knew is I wanted a coffee and some eggs. After reading a few menus and scouting the restaurants I found one just right.

Sunday morning brunch.

Avocado, spinach and goats cheese omelette. 

After brunch, bag over shoulder and off I set. West Village, you're unreal. I could stay here for days. The trees line the streets and beautiful little boutiques and restaurants spill out onto every pavement. I'm convinced I'm going to see someone famous.... surely! But it's a hard game to play, photographer and celebrity spotter, so today I was photographer.  

West Village.

West Village.

West Village.

Bleeker Street. West Village.

Here on a corner I found (re-found, I did visit here in December) the Magnolias Bakery. This is somewhere I was actually looking for but when I walked in the door I actually wasn't hungry anymore. But I knew I had to get something. Vanilla cupcake it was.

The Magnolia Bakery off  Sex and the City.

The Magnolia Bakery.

Just me and the cupcake.

In the park. Right across from Jimmy Choo.

One weekend, one city and already three worlds, Midtown (Times Square), Central Park and West Village. This city is never-ending. There have been so many moments I have wished I could share with my best friends and family back home. So many times I've seen something funny, strange, beautiful or scary and I've wished dearly I could just turn to my right and say something out loud to my person next to me. But I know that right now I can't. And for now it's just me. Until there's someone else. So for now I will just keep discovering. 

Just me.

Leaping.

Day 11. Neighbourhood stalker.

The past few days I've been trying desperately to ditch this thing they call 'homesickness'. Huh! Never thought I'd get that. This first week has been very busy, getting to know the children and the family and in-between marking University assessments from back home in my little solace upstairs :) So I haven't had a lot of time to go and explore my new surroundings.

This morning the sun was shinning so as soon as the kids were dropped at school I decided it was really time to get outside and explore the neighbourhood. And as cliché as it may sound, fresh air and sunshine was fast becoming the much needed remedy. 

As I walked down the path, headphones in (maybe I should have been trying to listen to the birds or something?) Anyway, headphones in, Nikes on and a rough idea where I was supposed to be going (so many streets look the same, big houses and big trees!). Today I was going to meet another Au pair for the first time and I was so excited, desperately in need of some conversations with people my own age. I think I underestimated how much my friends and I talk back home! 

As I'm walking, I really feel like I am in a movie. These houses seem so familiar! I've seen them so often... the shutters, the front porches, the big front doors. Some serious resemblance to some of my favourite TV shows and movies. I'm going to try and do some matching, now the mind needs to do some stretching buuuuut there are some similarities if you look quickly :) 

 One of the houses on my walk

annnnnnd the home from '10 things I hate about you'.

***

Here is my house on my walk today.  

Here is the house from American Pie!!

****                

Here is a house from my walk today.

This is the house from Home Alone.

The house from American Beauty.
I see some similarities in both :)

I am definitely going to keep exploring as already I've driven down some beautiful streets with some amazing houses, I fear I'm going to become that person walking the streets taking pictures...  and seeming a little like the neighbourhood stalker? 

One thing in particular that has really stood out is that many homes fly the American flag, it's easy to find at least 1 to 2 in each street. It's a little surprising as in Australia I get the feeling if this happened people might just assume the Australia Day decorations have been left up or have been put up early!! Flying the Australian flag in our front yards I don't believe is something we do. I started wondering why many American homes may fly the flag in their front yards. After reading, one of many reasons is that the flying of the American flag is a solemn occasion to commemorate family members in the service or to honour national holidays. For whatever reason it may be (although I should probably find out) it really does look just right, and I think if I owned a house like some of these.... I'd probably fly the flag too! 

So anyway, my day continues. I end up at Starbucks, eagerly waiting to meet this friend for a coffee... we text each other (on my little Samsung work phone) and apparently we are both waiting outside. I see no one. She sees no one. Turns out we are at two totally different Starbucks. Hmmmm I guess thats what you'd call being a foreigner? Whoops. Never underestimate that power of the iPhone and Google maps (which I don't currently have set up yet), that's first thing on the to-do list this weekend. I got my mocha cookie crumble Frappuccino and sat down for a little break (heres to NOT gaining weight while in the US haha). 

So now what?

Here I am in America. I've been here for 8 whole days.... (it feels much much longer).

My front yard.

In training they told us about a thing called the 'culture shock'.

As the wonderful Google says "Culture shock is the personal disorientation a person may feel when experiencing an unfamiliar way of life due to immigration or a visit to a new country, or to a move between social environments, also a simple travel to another type of life".

Culture shock apparently has four distinct phases: Honeymoon, Negotiation, Adjustment, and Mastery. There is no true way to entirely prevent culture shock, as individuals in any society are personally affected by cultural contrasts differently. Buuuuut some people never get it, (like my lovely friend GG, she's lucky). But our stories are different.

So here is what I discovered. I love Australia a lot more than I thought! (go-figure). How I can explain is this, imagine you're in a dream, all your surroundings are different, you don't recognise the streets or the places and you keep getting lost, no shops are the same, even the food tastes and looks different, something as simple as buying cereal and I can't find it! I know, I know "embrace the change" and absolutely! Thats my plan. But usually when times are difficult or I'm coming into some obstacles I have my friends and family to give me a big "feeeeze" as my god-son would say. The gentle push I need and that love and warmth. But at the moment I don't have that. So here I am in my unfamiliar dream and there is no waking up. This time, I just have to learn to live and survive in this new place. I'm starting to wonder if my 'honeymoon' phase happened in December when I was here for two-weeks. Here I am now and I've just landed myself in the negotiation phase.

Negotiation: 

After some time, differences between the old and new culture become apparent and may create anxiety. Excitement may eventually give way to unpleasant feelings of frustration and anger as one continues to experience unfavorable events that may be perceived as strange. Language barriers, stark differences in public hygiene, traffic safety, food accessibility and quality may heighten the sense of disconnection from the surroundings. Still, the most important change in the period is communication: People adjusting to a new culture often feel lonely and homesick because they are not yet used to the new environment and meet people with whom they are not familiar every day.

Here is what I have noticed so far. To 'fit in' as a New Yorker, you need to start walking, and start walking fast. I was in Manhattan last weekend and as long as I kept my pace up and just looked straight ahead I was fine. The minute you start looking up (it's beautiful but New Yorkers don't look up) or start taking pictures (oh boy! that's a tell-tale tourist sign) you stand out! This transition is fairly easy for me, I'm a fast walker anyway so that parts fine, where I have trouble is I am walking on the 'wrong side'. In Australia it's the left, in America it's the right, so while I'm busy dodging through the crowds, I'm also dodging bodies as I keep having collisions. 

Secondly, no one waits for the pedestrian lights. If you're standing there waiting, there is something wrong with you. Again, this is ok, however as I'm stepping out onto the road I'm looking right, but I need to be looking left (although there are so many one way streets in Manhattan it's always changing!) so once I've made the other side I'm secretly high-fiving myself. 

Thirdly, believe it or not, our words are different and several times already I've had to find the right American word so they know what I'm saying. For example, I said "you put a nappy on the baby", apparently thats a big no no, here in the US the word nappy is "nappy hair is tightly curled or twisted. This word is used especially by black people", the correct term to use is diaper. The word dummy is a pacifier. Car boot is trunk. Bin is trashcan. Textas are markers. Fizzy drink is Soda. Petrol is gas. Foxtel is Cable. Coles and Woolworhts is the grocery store. Target is not some Big W type store, but in fact quite upper market (LOTS of people shop there) and this Target has everything, including groceries. Chemists sell EVERYTHING, including wine and food. And alcohol is ridiculously cheap (actually everything here is cheap) but alcohol especially is cheap and you can buy it at 7/11. 

This big city is so bright and beautiful. This country is so diverse and while similar, also so different to Australia. I'm beginning to learn the rhythm. 

Grand central station. Manhattan. 

This is the Post Office. Big, BIg, BIG. 

There are a few things I've been doing to get rid of this 'negotiation phase'. The biggest and most successful is keeping busy. When I start to sit still I start to think about home. I also hugely underestimated the impact of jet lag. Being 14 hours difference is an enormous adjustment, I'm only now beginning to feel human again. For my year here in America I'm working as an Au Pair, a live in nanny. I am living/working in a beautiful town approximately 25 minutes from Manhattan. This past weekend I took the bus into Manhattan and got myself a 'real' coffee (everyone here drinks drip coffee) and wandered around the streets. I went and found a nice nail saloon in downtown Chelsea, got my nails done and then kept on walking :) Then I took the elevator up 22 floors to bar 203, a rooftop bar. For the first time, I order a vodka soda and sat alone. THIS was a challenge. But one I felt ok with. The empire state building was right in front of me and I was sitting on a roof top in Manhattan.... now this was cool. 

                 

My nails getting done :) & after my nails with my coffee.

 Roof top bar and the BIG American Pizza.

This week while I've been working I've been playing the Piano, emailing people back home and now writing :) And today I successfully drove on the other 'right' side of the road. Next week when the jet lag has hopefully disappeared I'm going to go exploring during the days and hopefully some morning walks.

 xxx

Hello America.

After approximately 4 months of planning (maybe even less) I actually made it.
I got on that plane, I said those dreaded goodbyes and I packed up my suitcases (5 vacuumed sealed bags, 3 repacks and a handbag later). I managed to keep it all together without falling to pieces and crying like a 5 year old on my bedroom floor. At times I felt a little like an ice queen, although the lengths I went too to stop those tears included, when hugging my best friend I just kept staring at the cars driving past counting them as they went, just so I could distract myself long enough not to cry.

So there I was. Airport ready. Time to leave.

 Bye Bye Mumma Bear

Bye Bye Family and friends.

My last view of Sydney.

Walking down the isle of the plane, excited that I had a window seat, I soon became privy to the fact that my 13 hour flight would be shared with the 6 month old baby sitting next to me. I had lots of sympathy as my best friend had just recently flow to England with her two-year old. The first hour consisted of me "Oh don't worry, it's fine, I don't mind crying, she's cute!" to then then next 8 hours of screaming (and yes she screamed the whole way), my head phones stayed in and movie movie movie the whole way as I was starting to feel the length of this flight changing from 13 hours to 26 hours.

Needless to say after 18 hours of flying I made it to New York City and was about to begin my journey as an Au Pair for the next 12 months.

First night in Manhattan, walking through Bryant Park.

I spent 3 days at the New Yorker hotel in training with 22 other Au Pairs from South Africa, Ecudor, Panama, Serbia, Germany, England, Brazil, France, Poland, China, Japan, Mexico, New Zealand and Scotland. The 3 days I spent with these people was amazing, listening to stories about their country, their culture and who they were. At one point we were singing "Incy wincy spider" in 5 different languages.

Gabriella and I have a Bagel breakfast at the Tic Tok diner. 

The Au Pair training group. 

8th & 34th. Manhattan. 

After my morning run. Manhattan. 

The Au Pair training group. Day 3.

Lunch with the lovely Au Pairs. 

And so I made it. I made it to America. 

Talking the talk, walking the walk.

As my departure date creeps closer and closer I am wondering if I’m prepared to be an American for a year. Of course I will still be Australian, however if I am to immerse myself into this country, to live and breathe my new surroundings, I will undoubtedly have a far greater experience. So the hunt begins to uncover the true American. 

As I ponder that question I begin to realise I’m not even sure if I know what the correct answer would be. What does it mean? If someone were to ask me the definition of being an Australian my instinctive response would be centred on having choice, opportunity and rights as a woman. I think of Kangaroos, Wombats, Possums, the beach, surfing, sausage sizzles, thongs, boost juice, meat pies, cricket, AFL, Rugby, Saturday morning sport, the sound of Kookaburras laughing, spiders, snakes, cicadas, cascade apple juice, vegemite and roast lamb cooked by my Grandma. Walks on the beach in Tasmania with my Dad. That’s my Australia.

Manly. Home in Sydney. 

Sydney Harbour. 

'Home is where the heart is'. Tasmania. Sisters Beach. 2012. 

But what is an American?

I decided to do some research and of course, the answers come from Google.

I found a website with responses from ten-year olds in Wisconsin, Alabama, South Carolina, Hawaii and Kentucky. All were asked the question, “what does it mean to be an American”, the children’s responses varied but included “people can do what they want”, “I love America because I have so many rights” and “it means being special”. Interestingly, each of the answers encompassed the word “freedom”. To be an American... is to be free.

I thought these responses were lovely and very similar to that I imagined of ten-year olds in Australia. But then again, why not just ask? So I did. I asked some children I knew, responses were “cool”, “in my homeland, to be free and have a nice life” and "enjoying the beach". I wondered where children form their ideas? What is it that they see and experience that allows them to form their view of ‘being’ an American or an Australian. Of course their answers stem from surroundings, families, culture, religion, friends, daily activities, sports and their personal perspective.

So what does Rachel think about being an American? Well the first thing that has jumped to the front  is the idea of driving on THAT side of the road. I will not only now enter on the other side of the car, but also drive on the other side of the road. I’m going to need to relearn roundabouts, turns and parallel parking. I need to adjust to the different spelling and grammar, for example colour and color, favourite and favorite, Mum and Mom, neighbour and neighbor. I need to pick an NFL team to follow (I need to learn what teams exist). I need to pick a baseball team, a basketball team, a hockey team (I need to find out what these teams are). What are the seasons? I remember when I was last in New York, I proudly proclaimed that my birthday was the first of spring, September 1^st! The Americans couldn’t have been more confused. So as an American, I am no longer a spring baby. Then I need to grasp miles, pounds and Fahrenheit (make note I actually had to Google how to spell it).

However, somewhere in-between the sport, the food, the accents, the bright lights and the people I’ll undoubtedly stumble across a deeper meaning to being an American.