I started waiting in the line at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Admission was free on Sundays, so, I thought it would be a great place to start my journey. After about 20 minutes waiting in a queue, I was finally among the lucky ones allowed to enter the galleries. As I strolled around, I quickly realized I did not want to be spending this lovely Sunday Afternoon in a cold building with painting after painting. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the art, something inside me just made me feel there were better things to do and see.
As I left the museum I looked for a sign guiding me to the “Philadelphia Phlash.” I wanted to take a ride downtown towards City Hall, and then head for Chinatown. After a few minutes of searching, I once again had an epiphany: why take a bus when it was a sunny day in Philadelphia?
I was trying to find my way on a map when I stumbled upon quite a lot of commotion. Soon, I was surrounded by screaming children and, adults handing me one brochure or flyer after another. A bit overwhelmed, I tried to become conscious of where I really was. I looked down at one of the flyers given to me, and it read, “Free Library Festival.” As I quickly skimmed the ad, it seemed like this festival was pretty cool. They were trying to attract children to reading, while at the same time making it something enjoyable for the parents as well. They had collected books from book drives, offered story time, provided coloring books, and had all other forms of entertainment centered on reading and books. I flipped through another brochure, and soon saw a schedule for these events. I noticed that in only fifteen minutes, world-class swimmer Dara Torres would be speaking. I had heard about her, and heard her story, so I thought it was an opportunity I should take. After wandering around the market for a little bit, I made my way to the stage where she was talking. After watching her introduce herself, I found myself yearning to travel more. I decided to slip out, because after all, I did get to see her in person and my time there in Philadelphia was running short.
I made my back onto the calm, sunny avenue I had been on before. I continued on towards City Hall. Soon, I heard another set of commotion. I walked on a round-about and through an empty fountain when I finally saw what was causing all the chaos. In the middle of this square was a giant adult pillow fight. Yes, a pillow fight. Adults dressed in pajamas with dreadlocks, nose rings, tattoos, and all other sorts of interesting features were running around hitting one another with pillows. Not only that, but they were screaming, “HAPPY EARLY 4/20!!!” I decided to stay and watch for a few moments. It seemed so strange that in this neat orderly section of town, something as chaotic as this this was happening. But, after spectating on those events for a while, I decided it was once again time to move on and continue on my way to City Hall.
Soon, I was very hungry, and I decided I needed to find some replenishment. Just as my stomach started to growl, I saw a big light up sign that read, “Reading Terminal Market.” I decided to give it a try. When I walked in, I saw shop after shop with everything you could imagine. They had various types of food from all cultures of the world, all contained in one tiny indoor marketplace. I stopped at a cookie stand, and ordered a sugar. I left with a delicious cookie, and a new perspective of food-shopping in Philadelphia.
I continued to walk the streets and soon found what I was looking for, City Hall. I decided from there I could head to the Historical District, and skip Chinatown for that day. On my way to the Liberty Bell, there was a block of houses, all built pre 19th century. They were all absolutely beautiful. Each was adorned with black iron fences, and held together with eroding bricks which only added to their charm. They must have cost fortune, but seeing them made me want to become a part of Philadelphia. Living in the birth place of our country, would be an experience, especially in this part of town. Everywhere you looked, building after building was enriched with history. As I was thinking about who had walked these cobblestone paths before me, I arrived at the Bell. I waited in no line, and got an up close and personal look at the Liberty Bell. It once rang for freedom, and although it could obviously no longer do that today, it is a powerful symbol to view.
I had one last stop on my list, Jim’s Cheese steaks. I had always heard my main-line cousins rave about it, and tell me stories of how they would just drive to Philly and wait in the ridiculous lines to get one. I navigated to South Street from the Bell. When I turned the corner onto South Street, it was almost like everything lit up. There is neon flashing, and cars whizzing by. A million sights and sounds overwhelm your senses; I found it all thrilling. But, I couldn’t stop and look; I needed to find my cheese steak place. When I did I realized my cousins weren’t lying about the lines. Ironically, waiting in line turned out to be one of the best parts of my trip. Soon after I had stepped in line, a couple followed me. I listened as the man said, “Babe, babe, let me take your picture, you look great.” The girl blushed, but smiled as he snapped a picture on his phone. I thought it was all a little odd, but intriguing. They then went into conversation as to what they were going to order. The increasingly funny man said, “Babe, do you think I should get the cheese whiz, what about onions, or hot peppers; should I just get it all?” Before listening for her answer, he turned to me and asked what I was getting. To be honest, I was shocked to have a stranger asking me what I was ordering. But I explained that I had never been there and didn’t really have any idea. The man, thrilled, screamed to me that he had never been there either and that his wife wanted to take him there. They then told me that only the day before, they had gotten married and tomorrow they were headed on their honeymoon. I was amazed; I had never had an interaction like this with complete strangers. Our conversation continued on, and they soon learned that I went to prep school. They seemed very excited about it, and encouraged me that even when things became hard, I should keep going on because no where else could I create my own passion for learning. He recited the following, “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire,” a quote by William Butler Yeats. I thought about this, and I was electrified. This couple had reminded me what I was working for through all my work, and I had only known them for about 45 minutes. When we parted our ways, both of them with everything cheese steaks, and me with cheese whiz and onions, I was somewhat sullen. I sat and reflected, with the best cheese steak I have ever eaten, complete with melted cheese and the perfect mixture of beef. All they had said to me had reminded me of important lessons, that in the rush of Peddie I had forgotten. It was so funny to me how to strangers from Philly could change my whole perspective.
My trip to Philly was amazing. I found everything that I saw and learned there worth every minute. I am glad that I found my detours and completed one of many short journeys there.
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