Subway Squeeze

There are several things that really make NY. Central Park is one. If I wasn't living right across the street from this amazing oasis of greenery I think I might feel claustrophobic. At least with kids and dogs in my life. I mean, there is something just wrong with a dog having to poop regularly on a sidewalk or a kid never being able to roll around in the grass or bang sticks on trees.
The other thing that really works here is the subway system. At their worst, the subways are dirty, noisy, crowded, stuffy and scary--full of rats and garbage and mile upon mile of underground tunnels lined with grimy tile and fluorescent lights. But, on the other hand, it is simply amazing that you can live so densely with a transportation system that is efficient, inexpensive and goes pretty much everywhere you need to go. For $76 a month you can get an unlimited subway/bus pass. The kids are still mostly free. Technically, Maya is tall enough to have to pay now, but we still have her follow right behind us or duck under and only once have I been asked to have her pay.
I have noticed that close to rush hour, especially on Fridays, the subways get *really* crowded. This isn't so bad for a single person, but when you are trying to keep track of two kids it gets a little sketchy. Today on our way home we actually turned down two subways that would get us home because they were just brimming with people--people were actually shoving each other in from the outside to get the doors to close. Maya looked at the train cars and said "Nooooooo! We are NOT getting on that train." I had to agree. When they are crowded, the most convenient hand holds are near the ceiling, which of course the kids can't reach. They are only up to most people's waists, so if it feels like *I* am in a can of sardines, I can only imagine what it must feel like to a child, who can't even see out the windows or see anything beyond the towering mass of bodies surrounding her face.
Many people, when they see me with kids will give up their seats, so we have taken to bringing a chapter book to read during the ride. It is loud on the subways, and at times the brakes are shrill squeals that make fingernails on a blackboard sound but a trifle beyond a whisper...The kids, though, are adapting to the pattern of pauses in our reading while the train brakes at a station, or when the conductor has his mike turned up too loud for the ever present "Stand clear of the closing doors."
Some of the stations underground are like malls--with restaurants, shops, bands playing, art on the walls. Granted this doesn't have the ambiance you might think since the rush of wind in the wake of a train and that sound of brakes, not to mention the rumbling you feel through the floor is never quite out of mind. Some stations still elude me as to the layout--I can take the same train 10 times and when I trudge up the final flight of stairs to the street I still have to spin slowly in a circle, searching for clues like street signs to orient myself.
My subway fears have evolved since our arrival--in the beginning it was a real concern to me that our 2nd born had no respect of the trains. He liked to lean over the tracks (looking for rats and coins), run far away from me in the station, deftly ducking under the turnstiles at the entrances and exits, play pushing games with his sister, and once, when Bonnie was still here, he tried to reach out and touch a speeding subway car. He didn't really respond to anything we tried to do to adapt his behavior, until finally one day I said "If you fall on the tracks and a train comes you will probably die" and he started to mellow out. This one reacts almost with rage when he perceives he is being "controlled", so we are learning it works best to tell him the real reason why we want him to change (people will find you annoying, you might die or get arrested or lost or hungry or your teeth might rot out) rather than sugar coat it. Now my biggest concern is the color of his hands after he drags them along the walls in the tunnels for about 1/2 mile. I cringe when he grabs my hand or touches my clothes. But luckily the subway grime (exhaust? dust? residue from the rodenticide I see signs warning about?) is black and there is no protest on his part that he needs to wash his hands the minute he again sees the light of day.
Several times on a subway we have seen someone enter the car from the next one and begin something like this:
"Ladies and Gentlemen...I am here to ask you for help, so I don't have to sell my body in order to feed my kids. I am hungry and my kids need clothes...most of you will pretend you don't see me, but please, just a dollar..."
OK, homeless person, can't you see my hands are full trying to keep Jonah from kicking the lady next to us, juggling the map to make sure we get off at the next stop while not dropping my wallet and answering Maya's questions about why the U.S. is at war where the Aladdin story is from and digging for the snacks that I *know* are in my bag somewhere? Oh, right, this was part of the reason why we thought exposure to The City was a good thing in the first place. Here everything is right in your face--it calls you to conjure up compassion and humility and take a stand. The perfect antidote for Suburban Ennui.
The kids usually ask for something to give the person and I am reminded of the pacts I have made with myself in the past, after seeing the hordes of starving kids in Calcutta or the pathetic dogs wandering the streets of Bangkok...that I would answer this type of solicitation with volunteered time to the Humane Society, work in a soup kitchen or monetary donations to organizations that offer food and shelter. Sadly, with the disorganization I currently feel surrounded by, all of these activities are on a back burner, and I am confronted with the uncomfortable truth that I have enough to eat and she doesn't, and while I don't know if her story is true or not, it is still hard to make eye contact, to at least offer up my wishes for her well being.
Pondering this, I walk up the steps to the street. The trembling of the subway fading off in the distance. The city-smelling wind tunneled through narrow passages bordered by skyscrapers and underground hallways in my face:
cigarettes
exhaust
flowers
urine drenched squares of sidewalk
exotic cuisine
salty humidity-filled air
Greeted by a trendy window display for Prada, Chanel, L'Occitane, Godiva or Barney's...Weird, this juxtaposition between elite and needy. Dirty and loud and crowded vs. elegant and desired and rich. NYC needs both ends of the spectrum. But it's a lot to wrap your mind around.