By Henrylito D. Tacio

"Where are you going this time," my mother asked. I had not been telling anyone about this trip since I didn't want them to know if in case I won't be going. Big Apple, as New York is sometimes called, I told her.

Her eyes widen. She couldn't believe what she heard. After all, when I was still a little boy, I told her that one of my dreams was to visit any place in the United States. "Yes, it's a dream come true," I replied as I wiped the tears falling from her eyes. She never said a word after that but instead hugged me tightly. "I'm coming back, mom."

The trip took place right after the Y2K hoopla. Don Hinrichsen, an American environmental journalist, invited me to co-write a paper on water and population for the Washington-based Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. We never met yet although we communicated every now and then via e-mail.

The trip was very exciting for me. In fact, the night before the trip, I was not able to sleep well. I was afraid I might be late in going to the Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila. So, even if it was still three in the morning, I woke up and took a bath. Afterwards, I went to the airport and checked in.

The Northwest Airlines flight from Manila to Tokyo was long - four hours. We disembarked at the Narita International Airport and stayed there for a couple of hours before our plane left for the United States. It was another long flight. For the next thirteen-hours-and-a-half, I was doing what most passengers were also doing: eating, reading, writing, walking, drinking, playing, watching movies, and sleeping.

When feeling bored, I watched other passengers. There was a mother bottle-feeding her baby. An American couple three seats from me were talking, or perhaps they were arguing - sorry, I really could not tell the difference. They were too far for me to eavesdrop.

In another lane, one huge man was snoring out loud (was the lady near him trying to find another seat, I can only guess). Two fat men - probably not Greeks! - were drinking to their heart's content while another one was typing in his computer.

Thirty minutes before we landed at the John F Kennedy International Airport, the captain told us that we will soon be in New York. My heart started to beat fast. I could not relax anymore. This is it, I said to myself. I asked for water, then another, then another. Then, our plane landed smoothly. I was on terra firma again.

I followed other passengers going to the immigration area, where we formed a queue. I took my passport and other papers and waited for my turn. Thirty minutes after, I was in front of the immigration official. "What's your purpose of coming here?" he inquired. I explained to him my reason for coming using some technical terms. I was not sure if he was satisfied with my answer but he stamped my passport anyway.

Welcome to New York, the sign said. Thank you, I said to myself but my biggest problem was: how do I get to know Don, whom I have not met yet? Five days before my flight, he e-mailed me to look at the airport's waiting area for a tall person with mustache and wearing a hat. He must be kidding!

Just to be safe, I also e-mailed Dr James Hansen, a former colleague who now works in New York. He answered back that he would pick me at the airport, too. Now, if Don won't be able to make it, then there's still James. Or, vice-versa.

Since I knew James, I looked for him at the waiting area. He wasn't around; maybe he was late, I consoled myself. Now, I was searching for a tall man with mustache wearing a hat. I spotted three men. Who among these three was Don? Using my gut feeling, I approached one person and asked him if he was Don. He answered affirmatively. Still not convinced, I requested for his identification card.

He showed his ID without much ado. In no doubt that it was Don and started talking with him. When suddenly, someone from behind called my name. It was James. "Sorry, I wasn't able to recognize you, Henry," he apologized. "But when I heard your voice, I am sure it is you."

Since Don knew the hotel where I would be staying in New York for the next 10 days, I went with him. James understood the situation. But before he left, he asked Don about the hotel and then told me that he would pick me up by Saturday morning. It was still Thursday when I arrived.

When Don and I arrived at the hotel, he told me not to sleep. After all, it was still two in the afternoon. "Okay, thanks for the advice," I told him. But when I was alone in my room, I tried to stretch my body and before I knew it, I was already slumbering. I woke up at 8:30 in the evening and was already very hungry.

I went out and looked for a place where I could eat. Not far from my hotel, I saw one Mexican restaurant, not very fancy but was serving pizza, short orders and drinks. Not knowing what to eat, I ordered pizza, chicken wings and soft drink. I ate my food with gusto.

The following night, I went again to the same place. The same waiter was serving me and I ordered the same thing. On the third night, I still went to same place. The same waiter was there. But before I could place my order, the waiter said, "Do you want pizza, chicken wings and soft drink, sir?" Was my face red?

It was in December when I visited New York and during my first three days, I did not experience any chilly weather. But on the fourth day, I ventured to visit the Central Park, which was not very far from the hotel. I woke up very early and went outside the hotel. I was only on my fifth step when I felt the unpleasantly cold air that I had to rush back to the hotel.
"Anything wrong, sir?" Feeling embarrassed, I answered, "I just forgot something from my room."

Inherently memorable if not entertaining - that is how I want to describe my first visit to New York. Indeed, it's hard to remain bored for long in a place where there are hundred things going on every second of the day. No matter what is you're after, you'll find it New York City: great theater, marvelous museums, luxurious hotels, fascinating history, exciting nightlife, sumptuous dining.

Perhaps, the only thing that might be difficult to find in the Big Apple is peace and quiet. Yes, the city never sleeps at all.

ooOoo