Vacation

Vacations have always been an awakening for me. They are the thing that allows me to be adventurous. My vacation following the steps of Hannibal The Conqueror through Tunisia, Africa and Sicily, Italy did all of those things for me. I traveled alone to prove to myself that I can be adventurous and independent, though when on the plane, I felt scared witless at the thought of being alone in a foreign country. I am happy that I got through the feelings of being scared and went forth and had such a good time. I find also that my vacations always validate my notions that people are OK. When I arrived in these foreign countries, I've met up with the most glorious people.

I don't people watch when I am home in NY. Who has the time to do that; certainly I don't. I rush to get the kids ready and off to school, to get ready to go to work, to get to the train, to get as much work done during a 9 1/2 hour day, to clean the house, to do life. I would love to leisurely watch how people tick by watching them, clandestinely, perhaps by sitting on the steps of a plaza of an office building or on the stoop of a residential building, during the hours of their life when they are up and about. I can't do that when I am home as I am a part of that hustle and bustle that is NY. Sometimes in my travels throughout the city I catch people who are obviously tourists visiting NY looking at me and others who pass them, with respectful curiosity. This happens often when I and many others disembark from the train station in The Wall Street area of NYC. Many of us stream by, rushing to get to our ultimate destinations, some jobs, some The Staten Island Ferry, and we pass the out of towners who have lined up, triple deep in a line half a block long, to take the double decker buses to ride through The City on a Tour. And the feel of the curious eyes looking at you, sizing you up as you rush by, with a wondering element, some discreetly viewing you as you pass by, some just bodaciously staring. When this first happened to me, someone looking at me, who was standing in line, it was a little weird, and I had a NY moment internally. To paraphrase, and clean up the language, I said to myself "Why are these people looking at me and the others who are coming out of the train station like we're an exhibit in a museum." After several hundred times of this particular occurrence, I now often ignore the stares as I have been able to answer my internal question. Many disembark from the train literally running at break-neck speed so that they can reach the ferry for the next one is 30 minutes away. These running NY'ers are young and old people, women and men alike. Others get off the train with looks of pure dread as it is another work day. Some have pleasant looks. The others who are getting off the train and are not running for a ferry are often a close second in their pace as they are often rushing to arrive to work on time. I gather that to those who are waiting for a tour of NY and see the unbelievable amount of packs of people who come out of a small hole in the ground in intervals, scurrying in hundreds of directions, each pack bigger than the other, we are a curious bunch. I understand that these tourist see in each of the faces and the clothes and the actions connected to it a story. I often notice the respectfulness in their gaze. They see the construction worker, dirty from head to toe with dust, rushing to get to the ferry to get home, and right behind him a man in an Armani suit, clean as a whistle, on a cell phone, talking of a deal he's just left that resulted in millions of dollars for all involved. Each person getting off the train has their own way of dressing, their own body language, and their own way of presenting themselves to the world. Rich, poor, middle-class, and working poor people who were together moments before, packed like sardines, breathing in each others' breathes, and are now released from the subway and are scurrying to their destinations. And it is all so very interesting to watch.

When I arrived in Africa and Italy, I was able to do what those curious tourist of NY have done. I people watched as I had the time to do so. I wached discreetly and respectfully. I watched the ebb and flow of people in Tunisia, many poor, scurrying to work. Some walking long distances, some trying to hitchhike, many riding scooters long distances. The women elegantly riding scooters who managed though they had on head wraps and long flowing skirts, true to the religion they practice. I watched the people of Sicily, farmers and people in the metropolitan areas, hardworkers in the farm fields and in offices buildings. The farmers in dirty overalls and the metropolitan workers styling in fabulous fashions. All reminded me of the hustle and bustle of NY. All seem to have a common thread, and that is working and doing so with a dignity that is prevalent throughout the world. People who get up and go to work, some not happy, and that is evident from their stern countenances, but they go. I thought about the possible stories behind their faces. Are they content with their jobs? Are they content with their lives? I look at their dress and try to pinpoint how much they make in a week, in a year. Are they able to take vacations to far away lands? Will they ever come to NY to vacation? If they come to NY would it not just be for vacation, but to stay to forge a life, as many when hearing I'm from NY state they would like to live there. None in Tunisia speak of vacationing in NY. They speak of it as a place they wish to live as life in Tunisia is hard. Some in Sicily say the same thing.

I take from my people watching abroad and my limited conversations with some of these persons that all have it tough throughout the world. People watching allows you a window into people's worlds and they are no different than mine. To people watch in other countries is to gain perspective on peoples situations in a different context. The sights are different. The edifices and landscape are vastly different from America. I saw a lot of antiquities. Ancient temples that existed before Christ. I walked lands during my vacation that have been walked by people for thousands and thousands of years. But the people that are there now are people similar to me. They are carving out a life the best way they can. Most with dignity and respect. People are OK. My people watching abroard reinforced my theory.