Nobodies in the City
Giles Turnbull’s repetition of the phrase “they disregard me” leads me to the understanding that he believes city life is composed of multiple aspects. A city cannot be a city without pedestrians or storefronts, solicitors or tourists, or people like Turnbull who are simply taking pictures and absorbing city life. Disregarding, in its simplest form, is to ignore or pay no attention to someone or something. In his repetition, as it seems that everybody is disregarding him, gives readers the idea that he is indeed a part of the city, and therefore he doesn’t stand out. Every city will have somebody like Turnbull, who is not out of the ordinary. When we read the article from his perspective, he is obviously the most important to us, because he tells us about his experiences and what he perceives. But if we were to ask about, say, the lady who was exercising’s experience, Turnbull probably would never cross her mind.
There are so many things that go into the beauty of a city, like a huge quilt, that it’s really difficult to pay attention to one thing, or one stitch or patch of fabric. Most of us will not be able to recall the face of at least three strangers we passed on the way walking to class or taking public transportation to work, because the people we are surrounded by are just The City, and therefore, we disregard them. The whole objective of Turnbull’s unity with the city makes me believe that he is trying to say that although to some people he may just be another face, his presence is still very important to the city. “Nobodies” (in the eyes of some) are what make up the city. Although we may not notice if one “Nobody” has gone missing, if all the “Nobodies” are absent, then the city just isn’t the same anymore.
This weekend, I was able to visit Little India with my friend Varya. It took about an hour to get there, but it was well worth the wait. Little India is a bit past the Loyola stop on the Red Line, but not quite Rogers Park yet. We actually went in search of a little Russian book store her mother used to buy books for the children at her church at when she first immigrated to America.
We found a little Russian bakery, instead, where we learned about how a lot of the Russian storefronts moved out years ago, because of slow business and because other members of the community were taking their leave as well. We passed a lot of beautiful Sari stores, and some storefronts that reminded me of the Philippines.
Although I have never been to India I could see its culture thriving there, with many women walking around in beautiful saris, or families sitting in Indian restaurants, eating their favorite dishes. Devon Avenue was spilling over with this amazing culture and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. Even though I’m brown, I was still most definitely an outsider, feeling a little awkward because I didn’t want people to notice me. I like being a “Nobody” and letting people walk past without spending an extra second looking at my features or what I was wearing.
I could hear all sorts of languages around me, both that hailed from Russia, and from India. I paid much attention to every person I passed, unlike those who disregarded Turnbull. I believe the difference between attention and inattention is the desire to know your surroundings. I paid attention because I was in a completely new area I’d never discovered before, but nobody paid attention to Turnbull because he blended in with the rest of the city life. In turn, many people paid attention to me, and to my friend Varya, because it was obvious that we were new to the area. The attention was both discomforting, but also intriguing, as they turned their heads back to their phones or the street the moment their gaze passed us, no longer paying attention to any more pedestrians along the sidewalk.
Attention is both a conscious and unconscious thing, that can’t be explained in just a few words or even sentences. Becoming a “Somebody” in the midst of “Nobodies” was the experience I was able to learn from over the weekend.
I had brought back a few things, but already ate them before I could take a picture as my “Objects”. Hachipuri was one of the pastries I tried, which was really good and reminded me of one of the Filipino desserts I’ve had before. Varya also bought a Russian soda (even though I don’t like carbonated drinks) and it was actually really good. We also took a lot of pictures of it because it looked like beer, and we’re immature and thought that was funny. I won’t post any of those for the sake of dignity, but it was just really funny.
