Report on the NY subways

The system works, in spite of the crowd. People flow down stairs and through turnstiles, rivers of people of all kinds -- such variety of people that they can't be classified, not by race, not by the languages they speak, not by clothing, not by age, though I keep trying, a foreigner's need to make sense of new experience perhaps. Disembodied announcements say what's coming, but noise from the human bodies muffles the loudspeaker's words. But the signs are clear; we figure out which train to take, wait till it stops, crowd in and hang on to bars if we can. Standing so close to strangers feels like intimacy; I get more interested in them than I want to be. A baby wants to climb out of her carriage and play, refuses to be amused by her plastic music-machine, so her parents are friendly to my effort to interact with her. She keeps all three of us busy for a few minutes, until a seat is vacated and she can climb on Mama's lap. A pregnant woman beautifully outfitted -- the gray stone in her ring perfectly matching the translucent gray in her tunic, her toenails silver, her black hair feathered and shiny -- moves to the corner of her seat, to get away from me or to rest her head as best she can; she looks miserable. The word "devastated" comes to mind. My sense of sympathy rises instinctively. I mustn't say anything, not even when we get off the subway and walk next to each other.
Next day: among the men are two who look to me like indigenous Central Americans (how do I know? Pictures in National Geographic, probably). Something about the large features, the sharp lines defining nose & mouth, the stockiness. One has the saddest face I've ever seen -- yes, sadder than the face of the elegant pregnant woman. It seems to me all the sadnesses I've ever heard about, especially those in Central America, are gathered in this young man. I know better than to make assumptions, much less say anything. But I manage to move my hand so he can grab the bar on his way out, and our eyes meet; there's a slight smile.