Nostalgia: Memorable Mass Transit Experience

The MTA has been an essential and routine part of my life. The transit system dates back in my memory to the early years of childhood when my parents and I would take the N across the Manhattan Bridge to visit my grandparents and relatives in Brooklyn. They had emigrated from China to America when I was seven years old, and until then, I had never been to any other borough outside of Manhattan. All my subway trips were restricted to the darkness of the underground, penetrated only by the occasional waning light bulbs flashing through the velvety black tunnels, leading towards the inevitable fluorescent lighting shining over the yellowing tiles of the next stop on the train.

It was eye-opening the day I finally experienced a subway ride above ground. I remember clambering up to kneel on one of the plastic seats as the train slowly rose above the tunnel, gaining traction as it rumbled across the bridge. I remember staring in awe as the train climbed above ground, allowing the shiny windows of apartment buildings to appeared, flashing one by one across my peripheral view and creating a gigantic, panoramic picture of the Lower Manhattan skyline. Towering steel skyscrapers and luxury glass apartments with rooftop gardens was softened by weathered brick tenements and rustic churches crowded close together, surrounded by highways winding lazily across the landscape, with beetle-sized cars creeping slowly down the stretches of concrete, their shiny exterior and windows glinting in the brilliant sunlight. The monochromatic structures of brick, glass, and steel then gave way to the shimmering blue-green waves of the East River, winking like diamonds against the white-gold rays of the early afternoon, sprinkled with the occasional sailboat bobbing calmly in the waves or a speedboat cutting a foamy white path across the water. The view was beautiful enough that busy passengers chanced a look away from their cell phones: taking a moment to relax, easing the worries from their tensed expressions, and basking in the warm sunshine. Heading back home from Brooklyn to Manhattan, the fiery red-orange streaks of sunset gleamed across the gentle waves of the river. The warm gleam of the golden hour between sunset and dusk lit up the dust motes swirling around the train car. The scenic image and my hand tucked in my mother’s hand soothed me: the gentle rocking of the train in harmony with the quiet murmuring of the fellow passengers, the rustling of newspapers, and the occasional pop song bubbling jaunty notes from a passenger’s headphones. This was a regular slice of my happiness growing up, as comforting as a piece of chicken pot pie or a hot cup of tea. This moments of traveling created a period of peace and tranquility in the otherwise hectic hustle and bustle of the metropolitan world in New York City.

In the modern day as a college student, the transit system has become less idyllic and romantic. Because of its daily usage and necessity as a means of transport, train rides have been less of a journey and more of a sudden pause between the next obligated destination and the next responsibility I have to fulfill. It can be an annoyance at times when the trains are delayed or inch forward at snail pace, a nuisance when passengers cause a traffic jam in train car doors, and a tension-filled bubble when tired commuters snap at one another and moan for the unattainable “more space”. It becomes a waiting area where I anxiety await my next stop, my next goal, my next step in the strenuous process of university, discovering an occupation, and taking initiative to achieve those dreams. It becomes an interlude within the hubbub of life, a place where I can catch up on last minute work or a place to catch a few minutes of precious sleep. Day in and day out, it becomes easy to slip into the monotonous schedule of our daily lives, the subway being a necessary blip in the process. However, it can also pick you up from the boringness of everyday travel. Anything from a baby’s chortle or a child’s excited babble to a casual conversation with a fellow passenger, a fluffy puppy in a hand bag or a lanky dog tucked under a seat, or a sea of school children swarming onto the train car is exciting. The occasional break in the flow of quiet commute always brings an unstoppable smile to my face and reminds me of the days in which every train ride was as exciting as the last, a stimulator of new emotions and feelings, a detour of new discoveries and surprises.