Thursday, August 24, 2017

So close, yet so far

Recently, I traveled to NYC to spend a weekend with a friend. We stayed with her sister in Queens and took the subway into the city each day. The nearest subway station was a half mile walk from her sister's apartment. That is not only not very far, it's a rather nice walk through a pretty neighborhood.

On my way home to suburban New Hampshire life, I had strategically parked my car at the park and ride where I picked up the bus to the city (Boston) that led to the train that took me to NYC. Guess the distance from the park and ride to my home?

That's right - half a mile.

And yet, I knew I needed to drive. Not because of the distance, which is obviously not a problem for me. Not because I was carrying luggage, because my luggage has wheels and I only pack what I can manage myself.

But because at night, in my neighborhood, walking home from the park and ride looks like this:

You can't tell from the picture, but there are trees on either side of the road. Trees into which someone could drag me if they so choose. The buildings of my community are at the top of that hill, with no one around for that half mile walk. In Queens, you're never more than ten steps away from a nosy neighborhood looking out their front window.

These are things that I ponder when I consider where I live, and how Americans live in general. In France, I could wander anywhere, anytime, no car needed. In suburban America, I need a car to go half a mile for safety's sake. It's a shame.