Immigrant

The dark clouds covered the sky upon Kennedy’s airport when Kornelia went out. It’s going to rain any minute. Cold autumn wind burned to her face and Kornelia felt, how her mascara is ready to leak. She has a typical travel set of lonely young woman - an average suitcase and a small handbag over the shoulder. She got rid of most of “past life memory stuff” in Krakov without blinking. They would not suit New York and her new life as well.

Kornelia remembered her first visit in New York. She imagined that the first object of attention would be a line of luminous skyscrapers in the distance from airport, calling and waiting for her. But Kennedy’s airport was fare away from Manhattan district, where all high towers are located. She met a faceless airport area (it seems all airports in the world are similar) with an inspiring American flag near the entrance. She remembered, how watched it for a while. Then Kornelia moved by endless variety of trains - airport train, subway train with a necessity to change a line several times before she reached the hotel in Brooklyn.

Now she repeats the same way to the same hotel. Not for a shot trip anymore. But for long-term living, maybe permanent.

You can’t imagine how huge New York is before using a subway and pulling out in some station on route. Kornelia changed a line in a gloomy-looking district with frown people’ faces, hurrying to catch subway first. It was somewhere in Brooklyn. People of all nationalities... English language mixes with Spanish, Russian and some Asian ones.

All these people, faded in their majority, live in this big city, have families, friends, join to national communities. They have own smart habits at home after daily work like a favorite beer in front of TV or flavor of bath gel. And great hopes for the future. Now Kornelia belongs to this crowd. To immigrants.

Sister called her after landing and said: "Well, my dear immigrant, gonna miss your little country?"

Immigrant? Kornelia never used this word regarding herself. She moved to Poland long time ago, but never felt as a separated stranger, misunderstood by locals, suffering for mother land, familiar mentality and national kitchen - exactly that kind of person “immigrant” has to be! No, she felt like a guest, who became a full-fledged resident soon. Well, just a little bit different from other majority.

In New York this unpleasant word flourished in a different meaning, full of exalted romantic. Immigrant was a diligent modern person, active and thirsty for every novelty. Who came here to reach “the own life’ hill”, to become “somebody”, to be “a part of it” as Sinatra sang. There is so much of hope and expectations from New York! You are gonna be so strong and confident, if you can adapt.

"If I can make it there I'll take it anywhere" - she felt, it was really like this way. Whatever you can reach in NY, you surely will get it anywhere.

Kornelia would love to be such “immigrant”. It sounds inspiring.

The sky divided with a rain. Kornelia dragged down her stuff to subway train to her final destination - Atlantic AV station. It was not far from Brooklyn Bridge. She didn’t want to be far away from Manhattan. Kornelia thought, if she was, she would be cut from this “crazy life island” off. And would be regret about moving to USA soon.

She accommodated in a temporary hotel. That’s just for two weeks. Then she has to find a permanent flat as much closer to future work.

Kornelia tossed her stuff on the hotel room floor. Pulled out a bottle of white wine from suitcase, found a clean glass. Her heart is beating instantly, and it wasn’t because of long trip. Kornelia was afraid of future. No matter how properly she planned it before, how many times spent talking with herself and convincing. That’s a natural fear of obscurity and she has to deal with it now.

Kornelia poured wine in the glass. Looked out the window. Well, there is dreamt line of skyscrapers in a distance, covered by rainy mist. The lights began to appear - it was almost 8 pm.

Down the hotel there was a basketball court. Some guys are playing a game. Their loud voices mixed with the city’s groan, full of car’s ringing, rain’s drop beating, voices.

She is gonna live in New York. Finally.

Kornelia have lived in Poland for almost fifth-teen years. Quite a long time for not rushing into something new and unknown. But she did. She needed a change and a chance for herself to be updated.

It’s so tiny feeling - new expectations, new experiences with new people. Maybe new love. The whole new world in front. Kornelia took a glass and sat on the windowsill. Bright skyscrapers watched her with silent questions. They are so huge and high.. It seems New York is trying to reach the sky, to become a new Babylon tower. Hope, it will not end as a story in Bible.

Kornelia felt a warmth in her body. The wines also helped. The more she looked at the city in front, the more her fear and uncertainty are turning into excitement. No matter it rains and dark shady sky. No matter you have to fight here more fiercely for you sleek life and stable feelings. Nothing changes the majesty of this city, which you must match, and which you wish to match. You feel it in the air - freedom, multi-nationality, readiness to be perfect and grab as more as you can. New York can offer you everything. Just make some forces to take it.

Cheers🍷