The City Wakes Up

Cities like people have a daily rhythm. When the first rays of sunlight greet a young day, the first stirrings of activities occur as people begin to make their way to work, children go to school, and stores open their doors. As the day progresses activities intensify, with perhaps a lull in the afternoon, leading to the evening and night time which have their own unique dynamic. As the day ends, with many returning to their homes, nighttime begins. Having its own unique set of rules, shadowy figures move across a blurred nightscape, and as the nights progress the previous days recedes further and further into memory. Such is the daily rhythm of a city, repeating endlessly.

What is so fascinating about this is that each city has its own unique rhythm and patterns of activities. Indeed one can capture the flavour of a metropolis by merely observing it during these outlying hours, early in the morning or late at night – because this is when its true identity comes to the fore, unburdened by the accumulations, struggles and tensions which are present at daytime. At these extreme hours, the daily and banal routine recedes and the city appears in its raw physicality – buildings, streets and spaces – majestic and towering. City inhabitants then navigate its spaces, appearing like actors on a stage, performing a play.

One of my favourite activities when visiting any city is to wake up early in the morning and to walk around the neighbourhood were I happen to be staying. Such walks can say a lot about a city and its people.

My most recent walk was on a visit to Beirut’s Hamra district. During the day it appears crowded and tense, yet in these early hours, there was a serenity and calmness that was quite captivating. As it had rained the previous day, puddles of water interrupted my walk. A stationary store displayed the day’s newspaper, with an elderly person reading the headlines. Taxi drivers gathered on a corner waiting for customers. Students were on their way to university, and a father was walking with his daughter, holding her hand while taking her to school. All this taking place against a backdrop of buildings which were not particularly glamorous, but whose age can be clearly seen by peeling paint and cracks. Yet behind these signs of deterioration there was life and a sense of temporality.

In Manhattan, New York, crowds of people emerge from subway stations and bus stops making their way to work. Walking among them one needs to move quickly out of fear of being swept away. Lines form at coffee shops and food carts; stepping aside to a street widening to watch these crowds, a group of cleaners exit a bus, and stand next to me, preparing for the days activities.

In Basel, Switzerland, I would walk along a river embankment, opposite my hotel early in the morning. Since this is located below street level, one gets a sense of being completely separated from the city, encountering the occasional stroller with a dog, or a jogger.

In some instances a city can only be experienced correctly in such early hours because otherwise the sheer number of residents and tourists masks the experience of seeing important landmarks.

In Florence, I would leave the hotel at around 5:00 in the morning to watch the city’s main cathedral, which during the day is surrounded by tourists, and African immigrants selling counterfeit handbags. At that time, the only people walking are residents and shop owners. Their hurried pace, depicts a determination and a sense of purpose. Not concerned with the majestic cathedral, they give a degree of normalcy that would otherwise disappear under the gaze of tourists.

But perhaps the most memorable scene is Charles Bridge in Prague. As the daylight penetrates the cloudy sky, the magnificent stone bridge appears, framing the city’s castle hovering on the mountain. Standing from a distance, I see the outlines of an elderly man, wearing a hat and suit, leaning against the balustrade, observing pigeons gathered in front of him. As I photograph him, his wife passes by and comments about the beauty of the scene, while scolding a group of teenagers asking about a McDonalds restaurant. A bond forms among people in such an early hour, knowing that we are experiencing the city in a different light and are willing to forego the comfort of a hotel room.

Such dream like scenes and sequences are the very stuff that defines a city. The more we are able to walk across its streets and alleys and experience how it wakes up and welcomes a new day is essential to its understanding but also to what constitutes life and humanity itself. Things slow down, and a deliberate sense of duration is maintained.

If a city denies its citizens the right to walk across its neighbourhoods and landscapes, by relegating them to enclaves and gated communities, it loses its very essence and becomes something else. Rather than waking up it remains in a state of perpetual sleep.

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