Namaste

“Do you know where Uzbekistan is?”

Of course I do, but turns out most Americans don’t, and Natan – who runs a food cart near Times Square, has to tell them he is from Russia. Having only eaten an overpriced muffin the previous day, I badly needed some early morning carbs when I walked to the closest 5-star reviewed place. And boy has Natan earned them all – the most welcoming person I met in NYC. He instinctively knew that I wouldn’t eat meat, joked whether I had twenty rupees or dollars and assured me I could handle the hot sauce. He’s been running that food cart for 22 years and meets all kinds of people from 5AM every morning. When I mentioned I would probably write a book about him, he goes “I’m writing one myself, Namaste!”. Checks out, as he is located right outside the NY Times building. It’s rich of me to say this with less than 3 days of local experience, but I would recommend you visit him instead of the Starbucks nearby.

New York City is everything I imagined, predictable to a T. Global content that reaches India is so massively American, with most TV shows and movies that we grew up with based in NYC, that I feel like I just stepped into my Netflix window. Brown stone buildings, homeless people, way too many medicated CBD shops, the tall glassy skyscrapers that disappear into the clouds – it’s as if I stepped into platform 9 ¾ but for NYC, not Hogwarts. I try my best to not look touristy, put my rudest game face on and walk as briskly as I can and yet, I end up going starry-eyed at the tiny yellow traffic signals and the black-and-white street signs or the loud fire engines that drive by.

What I didn’t expect, is how the drive from the airport would look just like the drive from Bangalore airport or how the cityscape would look just like the view in Singapore or Mumbai. I guess in a way they are all the same, just that one has more international representation. The other grad analysts in my training program have the same worries and hopes like I do even though they are from across the world. Truly a “global” markets training program (hehehe). It’s nice though, the similarities mean it doesn’t feel like I am in a new city at all. The lady at the bike rental shop in Central Park or the trainer for our program asked the same first question I always get – “Not Rai but close, huh?”

I am grateful though – for a 28th floor view of the city, for a training program that ensures I don’t ask stupid questions at work, for a fully paid trip to the States, for every single opportunity. A fellow grad comments that I seem to be very positive and cheery; maybe it’s rare these days? - depression Barbie wouldn’t be relatable otherwise. “A whole room to yourself?” – my mom exclaims on our videocall, it’s been a long journey from the toddler she used to chase around the teapoy for scribbling on the walls. She’s proud, and that’s why the best, gut wrenching line from the Barbie movie for me is one of the last ones – we mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they have come. It’s a good thing to remember, especially when my hair isn’t cooperating with the change in weather making me look like Monica from the Barbados episodes.