I woke up early on Saturday morning June 9th to go to The Met Cloisters. I decided to go early in the morning so that I could return home and have time to finish my revisions for other finals coming up next week. I had planned to ask a friend to drive me but after I took note of the questions, I realized it would be more beneficial to take train so that I could observe the surrounding and notice the demographic makeup while on the train. I took the E train at around 9:30am from Queens plaza to 42nd St. PA and changed to the A train. Since it was a weekend, the wait time for the trains were long. After a long ride of about 1 hour, I got off at 190 street station. While on the E train, I noticed the train was not very crowded and were mostly
adults, Asians, and Hispanics. There was a European family of 5 with 3 adorable children who looked like came for a vacation. The A train platform was quiet and there were only few people. I realized that the train had just left so I tried pulling up my subway app on the phone to check the next arriving train time. The next train was not arriving anytime soon so I grabbed a seat on the bench and tried to keep myself busy by playing sniper. The platform started to get crowded and noisy. There were many children, adults, tourists, of all racial background. On majority I noticed there were whites/Europeans. Finally, I got into the train and there were two young kids who were playing music in the car. I usually don’t find it entertaining when people perform stunts or play music in the train but these kids were pretty good. As the train went on making stops, the number of passengers were getting less. When it reached 190 St station, the train was almost empty. After I got out of the subway, I opened google maps to follow the direction to the museum but then I realized that my phone battery was at 9% and I had to save it to take the pictures. The area was very quiet. I saw a group of black men near the bench and approached walked towards them to ask for direction. As I was walking towards them, I became aware that they were smoking weed so I turned back and saw two other women on the street. They showed me the way and after about 15-20minutes walk through the park and up the steep hillock, I made it to the museum. The museum was dark from outside and looked like a cave. There were many people lined up to get the ticket. I asked a person there to take a picture of me in front of the museum. Then I got in and checked in my bag and went upstairs to get the ticket. The staffs were very attentive and friendly. I spent about 40 minutes touring around the museum. The inside of the it was very pretty with ancient designs and symbol all around the walls. There was many beautiful collections of artworks and glass arts and chapel. I noticed many older white people there and barely any Black or south Asians.
Have you been late for the metro, on certain occasions, or has the metro had maintenance, casually most of the time, well I am here to discuss this problem and give my own personal opinions and experiences.
“I envied the people in the train because they seemed to be going somewhere” (Lesley,7).
Whenever we are reminded of NYC, we think of Times Square or The Status of Liberty. However, we always forget what is right under our noses; the NYC subway system. I like to think of the subway system as a labyrinth because of it’s intricate network of passages that guides us to all over NYC. Just by looking at a map of the subway system overwhelms me because it is so hard to imagine how much work was put into making this beautiful yet complex structure. An average New Yorker may ignore the daily lives in the subway system but if you look closely you can see multiplicity of events taking place.
Starting a brand-new journey in my life I have recently, taking new employment in Chicago, this has inclined me an opportunity to examine the city in an incomprehensive contemporary way. Over the years, I have had an opportunity to visit Chicago numerous times to sightseeing, or shopping and dine, but never on a regularly daily basis. As a brand-new adventure, I am absorbing all of my brand-new surroundings, which includes the diversity that the city has to offer including its individuals. I am finding myself fascinated by all of the diversity leaving me with numerous questions. Nevertheless, each day starts with an hour ride on the South Shore train from Northwest Indiana to Chicago. The train commute alone is complete of much diversity, watching numinous individuals interact with one another. All of the commuters are heading in an equal direction as me mostly to work, go to school or perhaps to visit.
Sligte, D. J., de Dreu, C. W., & Nijstad, B. A. (2011). Power, stability of power, and
I consider one of the hearts of the city to be Penn Station. It’s always crowded with people moving around to get places all around the country. The possibility of places to travel are infinite. I decided one Tuesday night to go to Penn Station to explore the motives and forces pushing people to travel around and why. I walk around the station that seems to always have this foodie smell that I can’t get enough of. Maybe because there’s a Taco Bell there? I don’t know, all I know is I love me some Taco Bell, so, I go to Taco Bell. Unfortun...
Imagine yourself in a museum. You are standing in front of a masterpiece and it draws you ever close until your nose is almost touching it. When you’re too near the painting and you’re too focused, you don’t see the overall beauty of the painting itself. In fact, it becomes blurry when your eyes get too near. Life is the same way. You can’t get too focused on any one detail because your vision becomes impaired and everything else around you becomes blurry.
Due to the excessive amount of children per ride, there wasn’t much room for anything on the trains. There was little food and water, and what they had was rationed throughout the trip. Also, it was such a tight space that there was barley any room for beds or chairs.
Hey Brandon, I wanted to ask you something since you been to DC before. I found a hotel in the Alexandria area and it seems like I would have to go to the Pentagon City Metro Station in order to get to DC. Now the question is if you went to the metro stations before, were they pretty decent? I mean I survived subways in NYC can't be any worse than that lol, but I just wanted to make sure, I'm a little picky when it comes to things like that lol.
When I was in St.Louis, my family and I went to the top of the Gateway Arch. We had to get in a small cart that took us to the top of the Arch. It took six minutes to get up and four minutes to get down. When you were going up or down, we couldn't see anything because there's no windows on the ride. If you didn't want to ride in the cart you could walk up stairs but it would be a long walk.
had been warned couple of times about me being late. Luckily the bus too was
When my family and I were going to New York for my first time, I was only about 6 years old but I still understood that I were about to fly over the atlantic sea, From Stockholm to New York I was so enthusiastic, Mom and Dad had told me how great the city was, I can not do anything but agree. During my stay I was introduced to several new things . But what caught my interest, believe it or not was the metropolitan museum of art, or as the yankees call it “The met”. It was from that moment that art became a big interest of mine.You are probably wondering how a 6 year old could find artwork like a monet appealing? Well to be honest I am not sure why, but the art simply inspired me. Nevertheless, after some of the classic sightseeings, including
Whoosh! That is the precise sound I heard as the crazed flock of travelers headed for the train terminal. My best friend, Stacy, and I were left disoriented and understandably confused once the crowd thinned. We were at Madison Square Garden at the train terminal awaiting our train back to the hotel; it was our first trip to New York City. As one may imagine, it was a fascinating and surreal voyage into extreme urban life. It was so enthralling and exciting that afterward I felt compelled to make a permanent trek to a large city. Due to my experiences in cities like Atlanta and New York, I have an increasing desire to live in a large city because of the various forms of entertainment, myriad of transportation, and the never-ending excitement typical of such a fast-paced lifestyle.
“In Australia, researchers Hirsch and Thompson (2011) identified eight factors that may influence the perception of rail crowding: (1) expectations based on previous travel experiences. (2) Environment, which includes weather (for example, perceived crowding would be overweighted in rainy conditions), and carriage, such as the quality of the air conditioning system, air flow within the carriage, the presence and design of handholds for standing passengers, the seating layout and arrangement, the cleanliness of the carriage. (3) Communication—poor quality of information provided...
Once upon a time, I saw the world like I thought everyone should see it, the way I thought the world should be. I saw a place where there were endless trials, where you could try again and again, to do the things that you really meant to do. But it was Jeffy that changed all of that for me. If you break a pencil in half, no matter how much tape you try to put on it, it'll never be the same pencil again. Second chances were always second chances. No matter what you did the next time, the first time would always be there, and you could never erase that. There were so many pencils that I never meant to break, so many things I wish I had never said, wish I had never done. Most of them were small, little things, things that you could try to glue back together, and that would be good enough. Some of them were different though, when you broke the pencil, the lead inside it fell out, and broke too, so that no matter which way you tried to arrange it, they would never fit together and become whole again. Jeff would have thought so too. For he was the one that made me see what the world really was. He made the world into a fairy tale, but only where your happy endings were what you had to make, what you had to become to write the words, happily ever after. But ever since I was three, I remember wishing I knew what the real story was.