The sound of silence in a noisy New York

IARRIVED back in Joburg after a year-long stay in New York as the first plane was flying into the World Trade Centre. As a human being, I was appalled by the attack that claimed 3 000 lives. As a journalist I could not believe I’d flown away from the biggest story of the century.

So when, last month — after an absence of 13 years — I went “home”, it was like exhaling after a long spell of breath-holding.

There’s that moment when your yellow cab winds through Flushing Queens, when, just before the Midtown tunnel, it comes into view — the early morning Manhattan skyline. And your heartbeat quickens, and you sigh and no matter who you are, or where you’re from, you feel like you’ve come home.

I suppose it’s because more than anywhere else in the world, we feel as though we know New York with its familiar frieze. This glorious city that signifies pacy raciness, that challenges its visitors to never sleep, that is home to the UN and more than 100 universities and colleges.

For me, it really is the centre of the universe, the city where my soul lives. And it has always met with and exceeded my expectations.

Only, now I found a changed city to the one I knew. Yes, 9/11 has made citizens and authorities super vigilant about security. But it’s more than that: the city is busier (if that is possible) and quieter, or, rather, more silent. The tooting cabs and the ceaseless din of fire engines and emergency vehicles persists. But I’m talking about New Yorkers — those Allenesque fast talkers who’ve … well … stopped talking. At least to each other.

One of my greatest joys, before the advent of social media and hand-held technology, was getting on the uptown bus, knowing there would be a lively debate among the passengers about that morning’s news, a Yankees game or a visiting politician. New Yorkers, so the cliché goes, have strong views and are ready to share them — often loudly and forcefully.

Not anymore. Now everyone is plugged into a smartphone. Ask for directions and earphones are pulled out for short sharp bursts of chatter. Then it’s back to the music or what- ever it is people are listening to. Or looking at on little screens.

MIT technology and society professor Sherry Turkle wrote about this phenomenon in her much maligned book Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. She was accused of poor research, being a luddite, being out of touch with trends, of exaggerating the perceived disconnect between humans.

None of this is new, and the trend is as common in Joburg as it is anywhere in the world.

I’m just sad that it has robbed me of communicating with strangers, whose robust opinions have, in the past, amused and educated me and made me laugh. LS