Coming Out of Lockdown in the City That Never Slept
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The subway ride on the 5 Train to Lower Manhattan
Pre-Covid-19 virus, this would have been regarded as a topic for late night comedy shows. However, it became a serious question in the four months that New York City, as in most parts of the United States, came under lockdown as a result of the pandemic.
In time, we had become used to the routine of staying daily indoors and stepping out only for “essential tasks,” such as visiting the pharmacy or shopping for one’s food. People stocked up on hand sanitizers, hygienic products and toilet paper, causing a run on such items. We would only see friends and family via Messenger or WhatsApp and carry on our business or work via Zoom meetings. Those of us with children would do home schooling; their teachers would now become familiar faces on computer screens. Gym or swimming was out of the question since the recreation rooms were closed and visiting friends within the same apartment building was frowned upon. The communal laundry area had ominous warning signs and neighbors only disposed of their garbage at early hours to avoid meeting anyone else. The elevator was a solitary ride, with spaces marked off on where to stand if one permitted company.
The UN, the Empire State and Chrysler Building as seen from the ferry boat (Roosevelt Island to Manhattan)
It became tragic when we could not accompany loved ones to the hospital if they fell ill or bid goodbye in the worst-case scenario. We held our breath every time we heard that someone had been stricken and, indeed, we had become a global village in a way Marshall McLuhan would not have foreseen. The grim statistics would show up every morning on television while politicians and pundits would be endlessly grilled at noon or in the evening shows.
Hence, the tentative move to reopen the city was greeted with some trepidation. Could it be that things were indeed coming back to “normal?” Indeed, what was the new “normal?” This now included wearing masks everywhere, including public transportation; maintaining a “social distance” of six feet and avoiding shaking hands or physical contact.
Living on Roosevelt Island, between Manhattan and Queens, which can be accessed by subway, ferry and the famous pendulous tramway, one had various ways of rupturing this artificial and officially imposed quarantine. I decided to take a $2.75 one-way ride to Wall Street via the ferry. Properly separated by six-feet of distance from my neighbors and wearing a protective mask, I could see New York’s famous landmarks—the United Nations building, the Empire State and Chrysler skyscrapers, the 59th St. Queensboro Bridge and Brooklyn Bridge—as we made our gradual river run. There was light traffic on the FDR highway that runs along the East River in Manhattan. A few joggers and people taking a stroll on the esplanade could be spotted across the river. Upon landing on the Wall Street stop, it was no surprise to find few people and no shops open. Needless to say, there were no roving vendors or hotdog stands for the famished. It felt like a perpetual Sunday or a day on which the whole world had declared a strike. There was no choice but to go back home on the next ferry ride.
Taking the ferry ride with social distancing
A second trip out was for a doctor’s appointment not far from the tramway. Other previous consultations had only been via video conferences. Seeing one’s doctor face-to-face was now considered a privilege. The new protocol meant being interviewed if one had had exposure to someone with coronavirus or have done some recent travel. One’s body temperature on the forehead was measured with a new device which seemed to emit a light sigh and finally, one was cleared to be seated in the reception room, properly distanced from one’s neighbors. The visit was fairly routine with a young physician attuned to this new normalcy. All told, the visit seemed no longer strange or out of place in any kind of routine.
The third trip out for another medical appointment downtown meant the final challenge of taking the subway, which had taken a public beating as being a possible Petri dish of the virus since the homeless had sometimes been using it as a dormitory. Aware of this, the city government had scheduled a period of thorough cleaning during early morning periods. Those essential workers who had relied upon this means of commuting had now had to find other ways to arrive early at work.
Knowing where to stand at a subway stop
It was heartening to see that most people wore a mask and, though not always possible, kept a safe distance away. A fairly short ride felt like an eternity.
Wall Street was again our destination, but this time the streets were more populated, though not in their former numbers. The fact that one could take a pizza on a table outside the restaurant, order out a burger or a coffee and sit out in the company of other people in a park seemed to indicate that life was coming back to a “new normal.” Lights would still be dim on Broadway, but cinemas and restaurants would be opening soon, with certain new restrictions or parameters. It seemed inevitable that some businesses would be closed for good and that employment would be taking new, distinctive forms. The high rates of unemployment reverberated in our ears.
Our stroll took us down to where the old St. Paul’s Church, which was already here in the time of George Washington, could be viewed with the new One World Trade Center (replacing the former Twin Towers) as a backdrop. This seemed to be a reminder that we will always find a way out even in the darkest of times. This was not the first time that New York had experienced an existential threat.
St. Paul's Church and One World Trade Center
For the United States, this has also become an occasion to rework the social contract in light of issues of racism and inequality. As in Pandora’s box, hope lies at the bottom of the opened box that gave way to the plague. It seemed a good omen that the church we happened by was called Our Lady of Victories.
Ambassador Virgilio Reyes, Jr.
A career diplomat of 35 years, Ambassador Virgilio A. Reyes, Jr. served as Philippine Ambassador to South Africa (2003-2009) and Italy (2011-2014), his last posting before he retired. He is now engaged in writing, traveling and is dedicated to cultural heritage projects.
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