YES, because if things go as planned, my mother-in-law will soon wake up in a city that never sleeps, a city whose theme song was popularized by a New Jersey native, a city which, according to jazz vocalist Carmen McRae, is so nice they named it twice—what else but New York, New York?
Although Mama Tells didn’t exactly want to be a part of it, free roundtrip airfare plus a small allowance—courtesy of a close college buddy—eventually convinced her to leave the confines of a Manila suburb and visit one of the truly cosmopolitan cities in the whole world.
Fortunately, her US visa application didn’t get in the way of her travel plans: she secured a ten-year, multiple entry visa faster than a New York minute.
Which explains why her daughter and son-in-law are very excited about her month-long trip beginning middle of October.
Having visited the city more than once, my wife and I pretty much have an idea of what lies in wait for our mother, an active sexagenarian so youthful she is often mistaken for my father-in-law’s second wife.
And I’m not just saying that because I need to get on her good side. After all, I did ask her to get me some remaindered books and a coffee mug from Strand. Supposedly the world’s largest used bookstore, the legendary establishment is fortunately located just a block down from the Manhattan apartment where she’ll be staying.
However, the used bookstore—with its cramped shelves and uneven heating—may not exactly be the tour expected by a homemaker from Manila.
If only to get a feel of what the city has traditionally offered its first-time visitors, she should ride an elevator to the top floor of the Empire State building, walk down Fifth Avenue, and have her picture taken at Times Square, a place considered by New Yorkers as the center of the universe.
While moving about in the city, especially in Manhattan, she is well-advised to wear a dark coat—perhaps the only thing that New Yorkers have unanimously agreed upon to put on during winter—so as not to distinguish herself as a tourist.
Not that it’s a crime to wear anything else.
Except that no one really wants to be mistaken for an unsophisticated yahoo from Manila while walking down the street in a sea of black, an experience which I am not exactly unfamiliar with.
But whether or not she complies with this odd and unwritten sartorial code, my mother-in-law—at least for once in her life—will understand and appreciate why even non-New Yorkers love New York.
