Today is day one of my two weeks in New Jersey & New York. If I’m lucky, I may find an opportunity to go do some exploring in these first six days, but I am here on business attending meetings in West Orange, so we’ll see what happens. My flight left Houston at 8:46 am and landed in Newark around 1:20 est. It was after 3pm when I was finally able to check in to the hotel. Got to know the cab driver pretty well as we put our heads together searching for an ATM after he told me that he didn’t accept credit cards. I got very little sleep last night and didn’t have it in me to venture out into the city, so I laid low, ate Jersey-Mex and saw a flick.
Anyhoo, obviously not a lot happened so far. But I am once again intrigued by how much you really can’t know about the culture of an area, regardless of size, region or pre-conceived notions, until you go there and interact with the people. A few things I’ve noticed:
- In the first half hour, I caught on to what I originally thought about the NE: no one says hello to each other on the street. I have been told and have seen first hand that it is normal in Texas to greet and start up conversations with total strangers and then not-so-much for the rest of the country (of course, this can’t be entirely true). With the exception of business transactions, this has been true for half a day in this little suburb. But please note that no one has been even remotely rude yet.
- Everyone that I have had a reciprical interaction with has been extremely cordial. I am very pleasantly surprised about this and am feeling rather convicted of any kind of prejudice I had about the area (but again, this is the Garden State burbs – haven’t even been to NYC yet). Nonetheless, everyone that has taken my order, poured me a drink, given me a ride or checked me in has been as nice as anyone I’ve seen in Texas.
- I assumed this already but the mexican food here… not so mexican. But not too bad either – weird. It was interesting that the girl who took my order at this mexican restaurant was a pregnant Asian and the guy who made my burrito plate was a black dude. Not a mexican in sight. But they had a salsa bar. I don’t care how mexican you’re not, I love a salsa bar.
- Okay, finally, if you want to accuse me of being a racist, please feel free, but while you’re at it, you can go ahead and kiss my butt because this observation is quite the opposite. While this is certainly not universal in any part of the country, in most areas my white arse wonders into as the vast minority, there is a slight sense of contention. I could go on with what I mean here but would no doubt negate my first comment. The point is that just about everyone that I have observed, regardless of race (which is quite diverse of at least 10 nationalities that I noticed today), people here carry themselves better than I have ever seen in such a setting. Groups of people, patrons, or even drivers (again, not in NYC yet), have all treated each other with respect, spoke kindly and were courteous to those around them. Sorry to say, I am unable to ignore the opposite in the wonderful land that is Houston.
Okay, so anyway, I’ve been here 8 hours. That’s a lot of conclusions to draw in a short time in the “melting pot” of the world. But as far as this little town of West Orange, NJ goes – I am quite impressed.
* Nice vegetation, too.
- Squash
I just came across this story about a guy who discovered a German bunker in his garden. Hard to believe it has gone unnoticed for so long, but lots of pieces come together as this guy (I think his name is Conrad) starts digging further into the mystery. Apparently he was told that there may be a bunker of some sort, but was unconfirmed. So naturally, one thing leads to another and serious cash is dished out to bring in excavation and the whole works. Creepy at times, but a history buff’s delight.
