People use the parks. They shop at the outdoor markets. In good weather New Yorkers eat on tiny tables precariously placed on the sidewalks. (Everyone can see what you're eating and sometimes even comment on it!) People in New York congregate in any outdoor space - their back garden of a few hundred feet, the rooftops of their buildings, and even on their front steps. (Sitting on the front steps is something Cedric already enjoys as he comments on the dogs walking by, the gray squirrel scurrying up a tree, or the birds flying by.)
New York City is actually made up of some of the smallest towns in America. Some of these unofficial towns are only a couple of blocks long, and a couple of blocks wide. You actually know by sight everyone in the neighborhood. Block parties where the street is closed and the neighbors mingle are common in the summer. You know the crossing guard at the corner. You know the dry cleaner, the restauranteur, the guy who owns the corner deli, the corner grocery store clerks, the owner of the $.99 store, and the checkers at the supermarket. You know the people on the floor of your building or those who live above and below you in your brownstone. [These were originally one family residences which are now three or four family residences.] You know your bus drivers, and the delivery people who bring you take out food and groceries.
The supply chain for 10 million people is highly visible. Each street is always filled with trucks of every size - often double parked as every conceivable object is off loaded and hustled into a small store. Then, we have the national guys: postal trucks, FedEx trucks and the UPS guys. Grocery trucks delivering groceries are also buzzing around the neighborhoods. Fresh Direct may not be a national grocery chain, but everyone in New York knows their colorful delivery trucks. There are ambulances, fire trucks (three different sizes), police cars, garbage trucks and street sweepers. There are the individual car owners - (All cars in New York are mostly either black or white - don't ask me, I don't know why.) Usually, there is a lot of frustration vented via the car horn when someone isn't paying close enough attention, or a truck has been double parked too long.
Now, the main noise of New York is people leaning out of their windows at 7pm yelling, cheering, and banging pots and pans. The 'excuse' for this behavior is to visibly thank the front line responders to this crisis. Everyone is acutely aware how dangerous it is to be medical person, and the support staff in a medical facility are in real jeopardy. I think the real purpose of the 7pm exhibition is most New Yorkers miss their neighbors, and it's a way to connect.
Streets are silent. Car and truck traffic is almost non-existent. Here's Flatbush Avenue, one of the busiest streets in Brooklyn at 8:00 a.m. That's prime commute time.
There's one car and a handicap transport bus waiting at the traffic light. Normally, there would be cars/buses/trucks backed up through the intersection as well as 50 people using the crosswalk on any given morning.
Here's a subway station which would normally have people streaming into it. It's rare we see even one person coming or going from this subway station. The bus we normally ride to and from work instead of being standing room only is populated by less than five people, all sitting as far apart as possible gloved and masked. I'd probably be trying to ride the bus, but it's far too risky. Our family goal is to stay healthy, so we walk the 2.2 mile roundtrip between our apartments.
This 'Citi-Bike', a bike sharing business with bike racks all over the city, would normally be virtually empty at this time of the day (morning commute) instead of almost full.
Ordinary streets are also deserted. Here's a street we use to walk to work - it's 90% empty. (Only the dog walkers are out. Don't get me started about New York dogs - I'm thinking euthanasia to any dog that uses the street as a toilet. The dog people insist on taking up ALL the sidewalk. Drake and I dart into the street to avoid their inconsiderate owners, so we can maintain the 6 foot social distance. And, today, I saw a St. Bernard mix - oh yeah, such a practical city dog. Way way too many large dogs suffering in small apartments. OK - dog rant over.)
, Space is such a premium here. People live in the most minuscule apartments you can imagine. A generous second bedroom is often 10x8, and it's common to see apartment ads which boast each bedroom having a closet! We each live in gigantic apartments by NY standards: 1100 square feet. (By contrast - my Texas house was 2200 square feet, and it was considered on the small side compared to some of the McMansions in Plano.) Sarah and Jay's first permanent New York apartment - in a new high rise - was 650 square feet. Their current apartment is actually only three rooms (not counting the one bathroom). I won't tell you the monthly rentals for these tiny homes. I don't want the top of your head to blow off.
People here have been 'home' in these very small spaces with only a little outdoor time since mid March. The shelter order has been extended in the city to May 15th. Now, the few people on the street (like us - essential workers - since we do child care) all wear masks. I've found it amazing how much compliance there is in the city to these shelter in place measures. It feels like everyone here is actively doing their part.
There's also a growing sense of 'I don't want it to get the virus' as more and more terrible side effects of having even a relatively mild case are being revealed. That's certainly our goal.
One small upside has been our opportunity to enjoy the flowers and trees of springtime in New York. Here's an amazing tree we walk under each day as we head to work. Sights like this help control our anxiety over so many issues, and reinforce that this too will pass.
