i lerve new york

Seven blocks from where I'm staying, gunshots and mayhem erupted in the lobby of the posh Waldorf Astoria Hotel.

Welcome to New York City -the center of the known universe!

According to news report, the "mayhem began when the 20-year-old suspect, wearing a black track suit, pulled out a gun in the jewelry store and used the weapon to smash two display cases full of expensive rings and necklaces, said a police official who spoke on condition of anonymity because detectives were still investigating." It reminded me of an episode in CSI New York in which three female thieves -dressed like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast At Tiffany's- robbed a jewelry store.

I arrived in New York at quarter to nine last night. It was a dizzying three-hour train ride. The train was creaking and jerking all the time, and on five occasions, I imagined the links falling apart like Lego. It felt like riding a train in a Third World country, India perhaps, with none of the luxury of what I'm accustomed to in Japan. The only thing that still gave it a semblance of America was the cafe and the passengers walking past me with bottles of wine, dinner boxes, and Heineken.

The shuttle that was supposed to pick us up at the Penn Station was terribly late. By ten thirty I was walking on Times Square and Broadway to look for a place to eat. I was too tired to do anything tourist-y. No Kodak moment last night. I went to bed early after a grilled vegetable sandwich and diet Coke dinner.

I woke up at ten this morning, and, after two cups of coffee, I perused my map, and plotted my afternoon schedule. Like Washington DC, it rained the whole morning and by noon there was thick fog over New York City. From my hotel on 44th Street, I checked a street market down the block, similar to Greenhills only outdoors, selling T-shirts, scarves, bootleg designer bags, sunglasses, and trinkets from Africa and Tibet. There were kiosks selling chocolate-coated fruits, smoothies, gyros, and roasted corn. I bought a strawberry-peach slush for $3. Then I walked to the Avenue of the Americas, and to the Grand Central Station where I took a photo of a veiled Chrysler Building.

Then I walked to the UN Headquarters where, two days before my arrival in the city, there was a forum on interfaith dialogue that Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo addressed, after a picnic with Filipino migrants in a Chicago park. Did she bump into Obama, yet? Or made chitchat with the president-elect? No, according to my blog friend, JM.

Before I proceeded to the UN, I stopped in front of the Ford Foundation and contemplated on walking inside the office on Monday with a project proposal. I might be given a plus-point for audacity.

On the way back to my hotel, I walked past the Waldorf Astoria, marveled at the Saint Patrick's Cathedral and the Trump Tower and the nearby Louis Vuitton shop. I traversed the length of Fifth Avenue where I chanced upon four gorgeous young men in their sailor uniform who were laughing and sauntering in slomo, as they emerged from the MoMA, or that's where I want to believe they came from, oblivious of a svelte Asian gay Kim Catrall eyeing them with drool cascading down his chin. Then I strayed inside a big shoe store in front of Times Square. There was a throng of frantic people dying to get a new pair of shoes. I was just not in a competitive mood, so after checking the Adidas, Converse, and Asics section, I walked out of the store, took a right turn and searched for the Indian deli that sold samosas and veggie biryani.

I didn't hear any gunfire today, only the mad ruckus of tourists, hawkers, and vagabonds in front of the Virgin Mega Store, the United Homeowners Association guys who implored passersby to give them a dime or a dollar because Thanksgiving is fast approaching (unlike the homeless guy in DC who specifically asks you $2 because he needs to eat a cheeseburger from McDonalds), and the chorus of impatient twenty-year-old's telling the store attendant, like buyers at an auction at Sotheby's, their shoe sizes.