way2go! 7. Coursebook, Schulbuch

48 Unit 03 | Coming home The case for living in the city by Jessica Reed The countryside? It must be nice if you’re retired … or dead. If you want to have a semblance of a social life and like to do wild things like, oh, going to the cinema on a Monday night, the city is for you. Walking. It’s a thing. Forget about having to spend a quarter of your paycheck on a car. Forget about feeding your second-hand vehicle loads of earth-destroying gas on a weekly basis. And (unless you live in LA) forget about spending two hours a day stuck in traffic. Living in the city means that walking is often an option. And if it’s not, commuting by public transport makes you feel like you’re part of the world: you and others are in the same boat, so to speak, taking time to pause and read, or listen to music, before reaching work or going home. And, from London to Paris, Amsterdam to Vancouver, chances are you will also be lucky enough to be able to bike everywhere – making you both fitter and happier. You will never be the underdog. It sucks to be the odd one out. If you’re a goth, head to London’s Camden Town, which will love to have you. You like playing in all-female netball teams? You’ll find a club. Love mushroom- hunting? Start your own group. In Sydney, where I live, my local park alone is the home to joggers, skateboarders, tai chi lovers and tight-rope walkers. There’s something for everyone. And kiss bigotry goodbye, too: if you’re gay, you will easily find a welcoming environment. And better dating prospects. The entire world is (almost) on your doorstep. I don’t know about you, but it would be a shame to die on the way to the hospital – or give birth on the side of a road. Which probably won’t happen in the city. You can order anything from online stores and – miracle! – receive it the next day. Museums, galleries, libraries are easily accessible, a lot of them free. And food: enough said. Who likes to have the choice only between a grim pub serving dismal burgers or fish-and-chips and the local Subway branch at the back of a derelict mall? Not me. It teaches you tolerance. The world is a diverse place – and in the city, you learn that fast. There’s a reason New Yorkers are considered to be the most thick-skinned people on earth: nothing fazes them, because no one has time to be fazed and they’ve seen it all anyway. Someone is rude to you on the subway? Move along. Someone cuts you while queuing in the supermarket? Get ahead and get even. But cities also teach patience and empathy because, after all, you’re all in this together. Compromise is in the very fabric of city living. Neighbors complaining about your Saturday party? You have to reach an agreement. People who don’t act, think or speak like you do? Kids who annoy you by listening to rap music in the bus? They share your space, too. And you, theirs. It’s an imperfect and fragile microcosm, which, despite its many drawbacks, seems to work. Almost like magic. The countryside is not like living in Gilmore Girls . If you think the countryside is like living on the idyllic Gilmore Girls set, you’re mistaken. True country-living means back-breaking work, including thankless chores performed before dawn. Here in Sydney, I pop to the corner shop to get eggs at midnight if I want. And if you’re not a true back-to-the-lander living on a 120-acre farm in the middle of nowhere, you then have to live in a community where everything you do will be scrutinized. Privacy will be hard to maintain. No such thing will happen in the city, where people couldn’t care less whether you like to walk around with your pet snake, like to wear miniskirts in sub-freezing weather, or sing idiotic pop songs out loud while on your way to buy a baguette. Short of becoming a hermit, if you’re a private individual or an introvert, city life is for you. Nur zu Prüfzwecken – Eigentum des Verlags öbv