New York City Research Paper

Being from a small town, you never realize there’s anything else in the world. You just assume the rest of the world is a boring, small place too. In a town that becomes a ghost town after eight o’clock, it’s hard to imagine there are cities that stay awake all night. My trip to New York City made me realize the world is bigger and much more different than my small town. At home, the most common things you smell are freshly cut grass, farm animals, and a family having a barbecue. New York City is a playground for your nose. The first thing I smelled was the food. Every block contained at least 20 different types of food. Freshly brewed coffee, warm bagels, juicy hot dogs, spicy Chinese food. This city had the answer for any craving you could possibly have. But then your nose meets the bullies on the playground: the alleyways and the sewers. When you smell them, you forget about all the other pleasant smelling things. The lurid smells will burn your nose and make your eyes water. I made sure to
stay away from those for the rest of my trip. In a small town with just a fraction of the population that New York City has, taking a walk is a breeze.
At home, even if you don’t know someone, you act like you do. Everyone waves and says hello to each other. Everyone holds the door for each other. In New York City, everyone's main concern seems to be themselves. On the street there’s just a sea of faces. It’s impossible to know everyone. There’s no smiles, just sour expressions. If someone bumps into another person, there is no excuse me‘s or sorry’s, just a huff of annoyance. The oddest part is the lack of communication. Everyone is walking just inches away from each other. As close as everyone is, they all seem so far apart. Everyone seems to be in a rush, as though they need to be somewhere important right that second. They are either talking on their phones or listening to music. They seem to block out everyone else, like they are the only person on that sidewalk. Like they are the only person in the
world. I’ve always been usedbbn to little small town shops. Our town only has little ‘Mom and Pop’ shops, with friendly shop owners waiting to greet you. The stores in New York City are always massive. The buildings shout “Hey! Look at me!”. They tower over you, making you feel like a tiny ant. Each building has its own personality. Some are made of all glass. They seem to be inviting, wanting you to come in and take a closer look. Others are all black. Those buildings seem important and secretive. Like the people, the buildings seem to own everything. They take up every inch of available space. As our trip progressed I started getting very homesick. I started to really miss my simple home. On the final day we went to Central Park. As we rode towards the park, the tour guide described the peaceful, beautiful land. It was hard to imagine anything in this concrete jungle being peaceful. The park was everything the tour guide promised it would be. I never knew I would be so happy to see green, lush grass. I couldn’t help but bend down and feel the grass between my fingers. I had to make sure it was real. For a brief second, it was like I was home. The feeling was short lived due to a homeless man’s tap on my shoulder. I realized I wasn’t home; I was in another world.