From MaNdlovu with Love – New York

If you’ve ever watched a Tyler Perry film, you’ll notice how vibrant and emotionally powerful the church scenes are. One I often think about is the moment the song “Father Can You Hear Me” is performed during a church service in Diary of a Mad Black Woman. It remains one of the most poignant moments in the film. I was reminded of it and overwhelmed with emotion on December 24 while sitting in Mt Olivet Baptist Church on Malcolm X Boulevard in Harlem.

Every “Black church” fantasy I’d ever had came to life that moment as I watched the world-famous Harlem Gospel Choir perform during a holiday celebration. The choir, which has existed for over twenty years, performs contemporary gospel music with elements of jazz and blues. Their energetic, angelic voices are deeply rooted in African-American history. Although I had already been in New York for a few days, it was in that beautiful church, surrounded by people from different parts of the world brought together by music, that I truly felt I was in the city—and I couldn’t believe it. At that moment, I was content. Dreams I hadn’t even spoken aloud were realised.

Arriving in New York City, however, I carried more than just wonder. Watching as much television as I do, combined with the many articles I read beforehand, made it difficult not to have expectations. As a female solo traveller, one of the things I always consider is how safe I will feel in the place I’m visiting. I blame myself for all the episodes of CSI: NY I watched, because my first day in the city was an anxious one. I expected to witness a crime or become a victim of one. I stood on subway platforms wide-eyed, waiting for something dangerous to happen. I wore my cross-body bag under my winter coat just in case someone tried to grab it, and, of course, I walked briskly down the streets, looking everyone in the eye in case I’d have to “identify” them later.

I laugh at myself now because, although caution is wise, I unnecessarily made that first day tense. In fact, all the areas I visited felt safe. I was pleasantly surprised by the visible police presence on the streets, in subway stations, and in busy tourist spots. Officers were on foot and patrolling in patrol cars. At one point, I saw about thirty officers stationed in one place, but it was New Year’s Eve, so it made sense.

If there was one thing my research got completely right, it was the cold. I always tell people how much I dislike summer and prefer colder weather. I usually “chase winter” rather than sunshine, but the New York chill still took me by surprise. I thought I was adequately prepared with thermal underwear, spencers and stockings, as well as thick socks and waterproof shoes (essential when snow melts and turns into puddles along the pavements). Despite all that preparation, the winter air cut straight through me.

On New Year’s Eve, I planned to spend the early afternoon exploring Central Park. I had driven past it on a bus tour, but I wanted something more immersive. When I arrived, I was struck by how vast and beautiful it was. At the same time, I felt unexpectedly emotional recalling the documentary The Central Park Five. History has a way of lingering with you in places like that. I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I did not last even an hour on that tour. The 31st felt like the coldest day of my trip. There was still so much uncleared snow from the storm, and it was simply too cold for this self-proclaimed warm-hearted “ice queen”.

Instead, I sought comfort in a freshly made pretzel from Wetzel’s Pretzels - warm, salty, and exactly what I needed. Sometimes travel memories are made at the grandest landmarks; sometimes they are made holding comfort food in frozen hands.

Looking back at the many photos I took, there isn’t a single one that doesn’t evoke emotion or nostalgia. From the countless times I wandered through Times Square—probably the busiest place I've ever visited, and one that never seemed to become less crowded—to quieter moments elsewhere in the city, each memory remains vivid. Times Square has an electric energy. Yellow cabs weaving through traffic. Street photographers calling out to tourists. Bluetooth speakers blasting Jay-Z’s “Empire State of Mind”. Towering digital billboards light up the night. It excites you. It makes you feel as though you’ve stepped onto the set of a film set in the city.

Standing on the 86th floor of the Empire State Building truly took my breath away. Seeing the skyline from what felt like a bird’s-eye perspective was surreal. As you walk through the building, history surrounds you. From the observation deck, I could see some of the city’s tallest buildings, the Statue of Liberty, and the Brooklyn Bridge — landmarks I had previously only known through screens.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that I had my “Carrie Bradshaw” moment while strolling along Fifth Avenue, visiting some of the world’s most recognisable luxury stores and passing high-rise buildings like Trump Tower. Especially at Christmas, the effort put into storefront displays fascinates me. As a creative, I value the carefully thought-out themes, the drama, the artistry, and the theatre of it all. Each year, Dior seems to steal my heart. This year’s display looked as though it had been lifted straight from a storybook, complete with intricate gingerbread-inspired structures. And although not a Christmas installation, the Louis Vuitton display of gigantic stacked suitcases added even more spectacle to Fifth Avenue.

Would I go back to New York City? A thousand times, yes. There is still so much more to see, discover, and taste, another Broadway show to watch, another church service to attend, a Christmas lights tour in Brooklyn to take. Another slice of cheesecake at Junior’s. A not-so-cold walk through Central Park.

Most of all, I would return for the feeling. Growing up, I never imagined I would one day walk the streets of New York as if I belonged there. I left with joy in my heart and a renewed determination to keep dreaming and to keep travelling. Because in that city of lights, I was reminded that no dream is ever too big.

* Sané Ndlovu is a proudly local, globally curious travel writer, PR practitioner, and avid solo traveller. 

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