Finding Philadelphia

Philadelphia: known as the city of brotherly love, home of the Philly cheese steak, and perhaps most importantly, the birthplace of our great nation. As a city of immense historical significance Philadelphia naturally attracts people with a particular interest in times past. The city offers a wide range of historical activities and attractions such as the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. However, I fear that some may miss the true experience of Philadelphia by merely visiting the popular tourist attractions. Though they may be very informative and entertaining, they aren’t really Philadelphia at all. They were Philadelphia. I arrived in Philadelphia as just another traveler among thousands of other travelers similar to me. Our only apparent kinship being that we were all outsiders to a city that cherishes their own. Yet I wasn’t aware that I was about to step off the bus and into a second “home,”— and that those travelers who surrounded me were simply distant family members.

The forecast called for rain all day, but I was determined to not let the specter of a few rain clouds influence my day. Our first visit was the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which was currently featuring the famous “Cezanne and Beyond” exhibit. Unfortunately, my partner Jae and I would have had to pay a fee quite over our budget in order to witness the Cezanne exhibit itself, so we had to forego the exhibit in favor of the permanent collections. We ventured through the halls and exhibitions the museum offered, and were pleasantly surprised. Several pieces of art in the exhibit “Peaks of Faith: Buddhism,” we had only recently learned about in our studies, which enabled us to experience our learning on the fly—experiencing a living, breathing city through its ode to art. Although not originally a part of our plans, we spent time wandering around the Modern art exhibits and really gained a feel for the art culture Philadelphia had to offer.

Art still churning in our heads, my partner and I decided to surrender to the pleas of our stomachs and head down to South Street where Pat’s and Geno’s steakhouses were situated. Hailing a taxi for only $5.43, we talked amicably with the cab driver, who happened to have grown up around the same area that my parents had, and he was eager to make me feel like a local. “Once a Philly girl, always a Philly girl!” shouted the driver to me as I exited the cab. I smiled in return, grateful for his friendly farewell.

The familiar never-ending queue greeted me as I walked up to Pat’s steakhouse to join the eager cheese steak fans. Anticipation marked the faces of those in line. Fortunately, our comrade Mike Clark had been waiting for a cheese steak as well and he offered us a spot in line with him, virtually cutting our wait in half. As we approached the window I knew what I wanted, and in true Philly vernacular stated clearly “Wiz, wit out,” with impeccable speed. The cheese steak was like any other I had tasted before; the steak to cheese ratio was ideal, the juicy steak was cooked to perfection, and the fresh roll seemed to be right out of the oven. The crowded, vibrant atmosphere of South Philadelphia enhanced the experience and made it seem all the more special. Mike Clark had met up with his aunt Sue, also a Philly native, and we chatted as we enjoyed our steaks. Sue explained what she knew about Peddie, and that she thought Jae and I were lucky to attend such a great school. It’s incredibly helpful to hear input such as Sue’s, for sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the little things in life and take things like a Peddie education for granted. Sue and I were soon engaging in an in-depth conversation about my ambitions to someday become and English teacher, something she admired very much. Throughout the duration of this conversation, I could not help thinking that this person had been placed along my path for a reason; if I had not come to Philadelphia on this Sunday afternoon, I would not have met this wonderful person. And as I thought this, the sun poked out from behind the clouds. The day looked promising.

Sue offered us a ride to the historic district, and we gladly obliged, for it was much cheaper and easier than hailing another cab. Since we had already experienced some of the culture Philadelphia had to offer, Jay and I decided to take in some of the history of Philadelphia whilst on a buggy ride through the historic cobblestone streets. Our horse, appropriately named Truman after the thirty third president of the United States, was as stubborn as a mule, which only added to the unique city experience. The driver enthusiastically pointed to historic buildings such as Carpenter’s Hall, Independence Hall, and the Liberty Bell. She passionately spoke of her experiences in Philadelphia, and her love for the city was infectious. Following the buggy ride, Jay and I walked the streets ourselves and entered Carpenter’s Hall to get a closer look at the building. We walked along the cobblestone roads, original roads, the same roads that our founding fathers walked across—but I wasn’t just walking, I was feeling. I was surrounded by an inescapable history, and it was an inspiring feeling.

By now the sun was shining completely, and it had turned into a beautiful day. Though I had only spent four hours in the city of Philadelphia, I had learned more than I ever expected to learn from a single place. I found a city on the crossroads of an illustrious history and a culturally rich present. I saw the real Philadelphia and then saw where it all began over three hundred years ago. The experiences, the interactions, and the trip as a whole have benefited me as a traveler and won’t leave me any time soon.