kindness of strangers

New Zonked

New Zonked
Written by Cathoel Jorss,

In New York we had dinner with two New Yorker friends, one from Chicago, who are both broadcast journalists, and a Southern boy one of our friends had picked up in the street and they had bonded. Southern boy had on a Hallowe’en pumpkin shirt over an American flag t shirt. My German companion made me laugh by innocently mispronouncing his views (sane) on American gun laws (insane): you walk into a school and it’s like that film, he said: The Texas Chainsaw Moussaka.

Many Americans have a naivete that makes me feel protective of them, and not just about guns. More than once I have been complimented on speaking such excellent English, for an Australian. It doesn’t always seem to be because the speaker has confused us with Austria. I guess the sensation of believing one’s nation the centre, and pinnacle, of the civilised world – the use, even, of phrases like ‘the civilised world’ – might engender a certain self-satisfaction. On my very first visit, a few years back now, to New York I would marvel to anyone who’d listen how much better of a time I was having than I’d expected. “That’s because New York is the centre of the universe,” explained four or five unrelated New Yorkers, innocently.

At JFK we had queued with our passports and I overheard the officer herding the line answer an anxious tourist’s question with, “I’m just doing my job here. Anything else you’re asking – is irrelevant.” “They’re handling people like goods,” said my companion, shuffling forward. Three days later up in the Bronx we went walking through one of the giant parks that make that part of town so beautiful. As we were coming down the hill a crocodile of children was climbing up. A little girl in front was walking rapidly backwards, her head tilted round to guide herself. “You can do it,” the teacher encouraged. “I believe in you, Destiny!”

I said, to make her laugh, “We believe in you too, Destiny!” A second group of students followed them. One little girl was walking with her teacher, saying, “I’m serious!” “You can’t call a taxi,” the woman told her, “in a park.” It occurred to me I’d never said I believe in Destiny, before. I’m just… not American. Yet the sense of kinship with random passersby as we wandered up Central Park right from the bottom to the top, as we ventured into Harlem, as I got tangled in conversation with fascinating people on the D train, forever a stranger, was so spicy to me and so sweet. I loved the guy on the subway whose Superman socks were pulled high to the knee and inside out. I loved the wide-eyed baby whose daddy was so stoned he gave off a pungent weed reek. I loved the crazy Christian lady who tried to pick up my companion and when she’d asked, are you alone, looked at me and said, “And is that your… sister?” I loved the man who glanced into my camera’s screen when I stopped short at the top of the stairs into the subway station at Canal Street and said, “Nice photo.” It felt as it always to me feels in New York city, one of earth’s prototypical cities, as if we all are engaged on some giant endeavour, and none of us will ever see the outcome – in completion – we are fragments in a kaleidoscope like moths, we are our own art, we are brushing up against each other every day all day long as we go, handling the good like it was people.

8 comments on “New Zonked

  1. Jamila says:

    And boom! That last line. What a way to start my morning, gros bisous xxx

  2. Cathoel Jorss says:

    You are such a satisfying reader, Jamila, thank you for taking time off from Elizabeth Gaskell to visit with me xxx

  3. Kim Lifton says:

    Fun read!

  4. Cathoel Jorss says:

    Thanks Kim!

  5. Brendan Kelly says:

    We are all engaged in some gigantic endeavour of which we will never see the end. It’s a bit like being part of the crowd helping someone crowd surf the mosh pit. We pass people on to others having sampled a little of them, but not taking too much.

  6. Cathoel Jorss says:

    Brendan, your words remind me of something the Australian thinker Hugh Mackay said, and which I have loved and quoted very many times: “Multiculturalism,” he says (traffic, society, language and vocabulary, planetary care) “is a giant work of art on which we are all engaged.”

  7. Jon S Kaub says:

    The Big Apple, is that still commonly said?, to be experienced if indeed it’s destiny….a potpourri of life and it reads like anything but ‘following a script’.

  8. Cathoel Jorss says:

    The thing with scripts is…. sooner or later you discover: everybody else seems to be following a script, perhaps. But maybe that’s not how it is. Maybe they too are just…. *making it up as they go along.* Gah!

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *