Phoenix Rising
The plane landed at Phoenix's airport a little past 10PM on Wednesday night, a few minutes delayed but nonetheless, I was pleased to be back to terra firma. On the final leg of my trip with a stopover in Atlanta, two elderly sisters sat behind me worked on a sudoku puzzle for four continuous hours. The man next to me rolled his eyes and we laughed at our common dilemma. He had threatened to get up to help the women with the puzzle to put an end our misery. I laughed. Then I realized I was flirting with the stranger.
I had bid the people at the office with a taunting, "see you in the spring" line. I packed tank tops and sundresses and woke up on Thursday morning to find myself in weather not much different than that I had left behind on the East Coast. It was cold and rain was in the forecast. I mentally wrote a note to myself: always bring more sweaters in the winter regardless where you are going.
The contrast of life in Manhattan and life in Phoenix quickly became apparent. As my aunt and I had breakfast in the kitchen, I saw a tiny hummingbird hovering over a bunch of red blooms in the garden. I didn't dare move, not even to run for my camera to capture the moment. This, I realized would be one of those mental pictures I would keep for life. My first hummingbird.
My uncle handed me the keys to their car, generously stating that I could have the vehicle for my use during my stay. Hehehe - much as I had a license, I had no idea where what was so I ran the risk of getting lost and running around in circles. Helpless without a handy subway system, I was doomed to a vacation locked indoors. My aunt wasn't working and so she volunteered to show me around the city.
Everywhere we went, the desertscape constantly reminded me that I was no longer in the midst of the skyscapers. Instead of glass and steel reaching for the heavens, everywhere I looked I saw Saguaros, the more common name for the fleshy and thorny cacti. Along the streets saguaros as tall as 30to 40 feet spouted from the ground and dotted the otherwise flat landscape along the streets and freeways. I noticed that even the trees were different from what I was familiar with in New York. I was in a different universe altogether.
I also discovered that there was a substantive Filipino community in the Phoenix area. Filipinos being the most migrant race has proven itself many times not just around the US but even when I travel abroad.
When my relatives first decided to move to Phoenix nearly 20 years ago, real estate was dirt cheap. They moved into a huge 5 bedroom home at a cost that they couldn't have gotten a two bedroom home back in New Jersey. The secret is out, however and since about 3 years ago, real estate prices have started to escalate.
Model homes, new developments of townhomes and luxury gated communities seemed everywhere and everyone I talked to claimed that the prices are mind blowing. Still, however, I am amazed that a five-bedroom home in this city with a swimming pool in the backyard has the same pricetag as a pre-war studio in midtown Manhattan.
The Italian will remind me not to compare any place I visit to Manhattan. He would always emphasize that each city, each place has its own beauty and uniqueness that makes it equally 'home' to others as how Manhattan is to me. And yet I couldn't help thinking what life would be like if I settled down and then moved to the suburbs. No subways and so a car would be a requirement to get everywhere. Malls that close at 6PM on Sundays. Everyone wearing jeans.
I banished the thought immediately. It was just too freaky....too insane...
I had bid the people at the office with a taunting, "see you in the spring" line. I packed tank tops and sundresses and woke up on Thursday morning to find myself in weather not much different than that I had left behind on the East Coast. It was cold and rain was in the forecast. I mentally wrote a note to myself: always bring more sweaters in the winter regardless where you are going.
The contrast of life in Manhattan and life in Phoenix quickly became apparent. As my aunt and I had breakfast in the kitchen, I saw a tiny hummingbird hovering over a bunch of red blooms in the garden. I didn't dare move, not even to run for my camera to capture the moment. This, I realized would be one of those mental pictures I would keep for life. My first hummingbird.
My uncle handed me the keys to their car, generously stating that I could have the vehicle for my use during my stay. Hehehe - much as I had a license, I had no idea where what was so I ran the risk of getting lost and running around in circles. Helpless without a handy subway system, I was doomed to a vacation locked indoors. My aunt wasn't working and so she volunteered to show me around the city.
Everywhere we went, the desertscape constantly reminded me that I was no longer in the midst of the skyscapers. Instead of glass and steel reaching for the heavens, everywhere I looked I saw Saguaros, the more common name for the fleshy and thorny cacti. Along the streets saguaros as tall as 30to 40 feet spouted from the ground and dotted the otherwise flat landscape along the streets and freeways. I noticed that even the trees were different from what I was familiar with in New York. I was in a different universe altogether.
I also discovered that there was a substantive Filipino community in the Phoenix area. Filipinos being the most migrant race has proven itself many times not just around the US but even when I travel abroad.
When my relatives first decided to move to Phoenix nearly 20 years ago, real estate was dirt cheap. They moved into a huge 5 bedroom home at a cost that they couldn't have gotten a two bedroom home back in New Jersey. The secret is out, however and since about 3 years ago, real estate prices have started to escalate.
Model homes, new developments of townhomes and luxury gated communities seemed everywhere and everyone I talked to claimed that the prices are mind blowing. Still, however, I am amazed that a five-bedroom home in this city with a swimming pool in the backyard has the same pricetag as a pre-war studio in midtown Manhattan.
The Italian will remind me not to compare any place I visit to Manhattan. He would always emphasize that each city, each place has its own beauty and uniqueness that makes it equally 'home' to others as how Manhattan is to me. And yet I couldn't help thinking what life would be like if I settled down and then moved to the suburbs. No subways and so a car would be a requirement to get everywhere. Malls that close at 6PM on Sundays. Everyone wearing jeans.
I banished the thought immediately. It was just too freaky....too insane...