If variety is the “spice of life”, then NYC is a ramican full of Sriracha.
It is truly amazing how so many different nationalities are represented in one overcrowded, underairconditioned subway car. While there are many countries out there still unable settle their differences with one another (even though they are separated by mountain ranges, bodies of water, hundreds of miles, herds of Bighorn Sheep, etc.), Manhattan, an island spanning only 22.96 square miles (according to the ever so reliable Wikipedia), is home to 1,620,867 people–many of who not only practice a tolerance of others, but also welcome and embrace cultural diversity. Just the other day, my “treadmill neighbor” at New York Sports Club was finding strength and inspiration by blasting Celine Dion (Canadian)’s power house ballad “Taking Chances” on her IPOD. I have also learned that one does not have to journey more than a few avenues to experience harmony and understanding. I mean, why visit the UN Headquarters when you can stand on Fifth Avenue and see an Italian-born D&G handbag sported alongside the French threads of Chanel couture? My recent discovery of the Jew-talian Bagel and Pizza Eatery twenty short blocks south of my apartment, however, was the swift kick in my Hungarian-Russian-Polish-American tuchess I needed. At that moment, I knew that if I wanted to emerse myself in this melting pot mania, action needed to be taken. Consuming a California roll would not cut it.
After some internet research and a few phone calls, around 11 AM on Saturday, Sweden came knocking. Flat-packed diversity! Here are my newest additions from Ikea: