I love visiting new destinations. I have very set ideas of what I think I would like but my perceptions constantly change when I travel. It throws me off my comfortable high horse and grounds me and I absolutely love it when that happens.
I must write about my experience in New York City. I was scheduled to go to NYC for our Annual Global Marketing Summit last year and while I excitedly practiced for my all important presentation at the meeting, I was nervous about traveling alone to what I thought was the "big bad city". I had heard stories about how loud and rude people were and about how intimidating the whole experience would be.
Of course, I had friends who were die hard "Sex & The City" fans (I am not one of them) and they excitedly instructed me on the "must see" places, all related to specific scenes of the show, mind you. I rolled my eyes during those sessions and still couldn't shake off my nerves but yet was determined to spend at least a week in the city on my own time.
As I write about it today, I can hardly remember why I was that intimidated. I was no stranger to traveling solo and had visited other cities without a fuss but I was so sure that I would be this stranger in a city of worldly inhabitants who would impatiently brush aside my questions as I tried to find my way in their space.
I was so wrong. It was (and still remains) one of the most exciting, liberating, refreshing experiences of my life. I landed in the most wonderfully delicious melting pot of people, sound and sights I could ever imagine! This was the land of immigrants. How could I have forgotten that? I encountered tons of people who spoke in accents not immediately recognizable - just like me. There were people who had lived there for ten years, people who grew up there and people who had just arrived. No one batted an eyelid when I spoke to them in my Malaysian accent. At the check-out counter as I was paying for my purchases, no one asked if I was there on holiday (sorry, vacation), no one asked how I could speak proper English (I got that a lot in London) and no one cared who or what I was. I fit right it. I loved it.
I loved the fact that I could hardly find chain restaurants, chain pharmacies, chain hardware stores, chain anything in that city. I loved walking into a family owned bagel shop, ordering quickly and loudly as the patriarch yelled my order on the top of his lungs. I loved laughing at my Singaporean friend as she went hunting for a taxi line while I just waved my arm and yelled "Taxi" to hail the all familiar yellow taxicab.
I loved the energy that flowed through the city. It was as if I was being pulled along on a thrilling roller coaster ride and I couldn't stop. NYC celebrates individualism in the most matter-of-fact manner and you don't even realize it is happening. Here in Malaysia, we are often taught to toe the line, mind our words, be team players, keep quiet, be nice, play safe, be like the rest. In NYC, I felt the most incredible sense of independence, one of the most freeing experiences of my life. People are different and they are encouraged to be so. As a result, I met the most out-spoken, creative and confident bunch of people and all of them had the same energy - the same drive in them but at the same time, they were each very different. I envied them.
I visited the usual touristy sights, hung out with old friends, found new friends, sampled awesome food, grumbled about having to tip (I don't think I will ever get used to that), rolled my eyes at some ignorant people I met and soaked it all in, happy, so happy that I was wrong about the city.
Love the city. Love it.
Times Square at night!
The Statue of Liberty
It was merely a week and I don't presume that life in the Big Apple is always glorious, so I am not advocating a rush to relocate to this city. What I hope to impart is the wonderful effects of exploring a new place with an open mind. Every place you visit has a soul. This one affected me in ways I did not expect and I highly recommend a visit.
I must write about my experience in New York City. I was scheduled to go to NYC for our Annual Global Marketing Summit last year and while I excitedly practiced for my all important presentation at the meeting, I was nervous about traveling alone to what I thought was the "big bad city". I had heard stories about how loud and rude people were and about how intimidating the whole experience would be.
Of course, I had friends who were die hard "Sex & The City" fans (I am not one of them) and they excitedly instructed me on the "must see" places, all related to specific scenes of the show, mind you. I rolled my eyes during those sessions and still couldn't shake off my nerves but yet was determined to spend at least a week in the city on my own time.
As I write about it today, I can hardly remember why I was that intimidated. I was no stranger to traveling solo and had visited other cities without a fuss but I was so sure that I would be this stranger in a city of worldly inhabitants who would impatiently brush aside my questions as I tried to find my way in their space.
I was so wrong. It was (and still remains) one of the most exciting, liberating, refreshing experiences of my life. I landed in the most wonderfully delicious melting pot of people, sound and sights I could ever imagine! This was the land of immigrants. How could I have forgotten that? I encountered tons of people who spoke in accents not immediately recognizable - just like me. There were people who had lived there for ten years, people who grew up there and people who had just arrived. No one batted an eyelid when I spoke to them in my Malaysian accent. At the check-out counter as I was paying for my purchases, no one asked if I was there on holiday (sorry, vacation), no one asked how I could speak proper English (I got that a lot in London) and no one cared who or what I was. I fit right it. I loved it.
I loved the fact that I could hardly find chain restaurants, chain pharmacies, chain hardware stores, chain anything in that city. I loved walking into a family owned bagel shop, ordering quickly and loudly as the patriarch yelled my order on the top of his lungs. I loved laughing at my Singaporean friend as she went hunting for a taxi line while I just waved my arm and yelled "Taxi" to hail the all familiar yellow taxicab.
I loved the energy that flowed through the city. It was as if I was being pulled along on a thrilling roller coaster ride and I couldn't stop. NYC celebrates individualism in the most matter-of-fact manner and you don't even realize it is happening. Here in Malaysia, we are often taught to toe the line, mind our words, be team players, keep quiet, be nice, play safe, be like the rest. In NYC, I felt the most incredible sense of independence, one of the most freeing experiences of my life. People are different and they are encouraged to be so. As a result, I met the most out-spoken, creative and confident bunch of people and all of them had the same energy - the same drive in them but at the same time, they were each very different. I envied them.
I visited the usual touristy sights, hung out with old friends, found new friends, sampled awesome food, grumbled about having to tip (I don't think I will ever get used to that), rolled my eyes at some ignorant people I met and soaked it all in, happy, so happy that I was wrong about the city.
It was merely a week and I don't presume that life in the Big Apple is always glorious, so I am not advocating a rush to relocate to this city. What I hope to impart is the wonderful effects of exploring a new place with an open mind. Every place you visit has a soul. This one affected me in ways I did not expect and I highly recommend a visit.
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