Strangers leading me to familiar places
My journey began once I exited the brown line at 1:48pm. I immediately found a girl with bright pink hair and big, black, spiky boots. She looked interesting, so I knew she would lead me to an interesting place. I followed her down the stairs out to the crosswalk where there were crowds of people. Three men lugged their suitcases down the street, two women cackled with laughter, and other waves of people listened to music or looking down at their phones. There were two men on the opposite side of the street blasting music, happily singing and dancing as if no one else were watching them.
At 1:55, the girl with the bright, pink hair then led me down the street where I passed by Parks Pantry Deli where a mother with two children was walking out. The kids were running around, screaming while the mother was trying to exhaustedly herd them together. We then took a left turn and walked past more stores, yet none of them caught my eye. Mostly, I was focusing on how nice of a day it was. The weather was perfect, the sun was shining, and the people I passed greeted me with smiles. Pink haired girl and I walked straight for a while until we reached The Art Institute of Chicago. I had only ever seen the museum in movies like, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, so I was amazed by how large it was. Two green lions guarded the entrance and people were scattered all over the steps, and the pink haired girl went to join them. This is where we parted ways. I didn’t stay at the Art Institute long because I quickly found another stranger.
At 2:10, a man wearing baggy jeans and holding a tote bag with brightly colored flowers passed me by. He looked like he was in a hurry and he took a sharp turn down the street across the Art Institute. He was speed-walking through the crowds of people while on the phone. The crowd that he was rushing passed looked annoyed with how he was getting around them, but he didn’t seem to care. I followed him for a while and walked by a building that looked like it had been standing there for decades. The windows were tinted with dust, the paint was beginning to chip, and graffiti was planted onto the side of the building. I wondered what this building had been used for in the past, what it is now, who occupied its rooms, and what it would be in the near future. These questions were left unanswered because the man with the tote bag was far ahead of me.
I slowly jogged to catch up to him as he turned right onto State St. He rushed into the Subway and I thought this is where our journey ended, but he rushed right back out with a sandwich bag in his hand. He started walking down State St and I was so enthralled by the view. The way the blue sky was reflecting off every window of every building was so beautiful. I could see the famous pine cone parking garage, and then realized where I was. I had been right by Cloud Gate and Millennium park this whole time without knowing. After realizing this, I felt proud because it showed that I am becoming more familiar with the city. I wanted to return to this area after doing this walking journal because I felt like there was so much more I wanted to see, so I went back the next day. And I could return to this spot without needing to use google maps which I never thought I would be capable of doing.
Finally, at 2:23 the man with the tote bag walked down State St and rushed into the DePaul University Loop Campus doors. I had seen the DePaul Loop Campus once, but this time I was able to really admire it. The building was decorated with detailed carvings and blue banisters everywhere. And as I was appreciating the architecture, I ran into a friend. We stopped and talked for a moment, but they said they had to get to class. I wonder if my friend and the man with the tote bag were in the same class. After I said goodbye to my friend, I went back home on the red line and looked through the pictures I had taken on my journey.
In “Paris, or Botanzing the Asphalt,” Rebecca Solnit quotes Walter Benjamin who writes, “But to lose oneself in a city — as one loses oneself in a forest — that calls for a quite a different schooling” (p. 255). What is the meaning of “losing oneself in the city?” Have you ever lost yourself in this sense? If so, describe your experience. What do you remember?
I like how Benjamin compares the city to the forest because they are actually so much more alike than people would think. When you go into a forest, every tree looks the same, and it’s very easy to lose your way. The same goes for exploring a brand new city. Every building looks similar, every turn has the same restaurants, and it can be really easy to get lost. But getting lost is sometimes a necessity in order to begin to understand the city. Using google maps doesn’t allow your mind to focus on the things you are walking past in order to connect with the street you are walking down. I think losing yourself in the city means to explore without a purpose. Just seeing what you are drawn to and following where your heart tells you to go can take you places you may have never seen because before, you had a destination in mind. I haven’t fully lost myself in the city yet, but after going on the walk for this week, I feel more comfortable traveling without using my phone for directions. (186)
