Run-In

A Few Days Ago

I was riding my bike in Brooklyn with my friend. We were coming from our favorite vegan diner, had the best pancakes ever, and were on our way home. Suddenly, I notice a drunk guy who is cursing on the side of the road, next to his parked SUV. I don't think his rant is directed at me, but as I pass him on my bike, he jumps towards me and runs directly into my bike. 

I am screaming a weird girly scream as I am coming to a stop about ten feet further down the road. This guy gets scarier, he is still cursing. Now my friend is right next to him. Asking him what the hell he is doing. The guy then jerks his car door open, making both my friend and I think he is going to grab a knife and stab us. So we take off. 

My bike is fine. I am fine–at least I am thinking that at the moment. I am probably still a little bit in shock. This occurred on a one-way street. I am also thinking, what are the odds that a crazy guy runs into my bike? I'm upset. At least I am not hurt. As I am biking home, I am thinking that I could have fallen off my bike and into the traffic. Everything happened so fast... 

And then, after the initial shock, and the anger towards this guy, my thinking shifts. And instead of being upset, I am thinking about how lucky I am. So much more could have happened, and although I did not appreciate running into a crazy guy, nothing DID happen, so I am lucky. It's all a matter of perspective. Thank god.

Yours Truly

          New York has always been a place of change. This city has always been a pioneer in originality and has attracted the toughest, the hungriest, the risk-takers, the ones who were striving for a better life. Every New Yorker, new or old, grows into what makes this great city resilient and original in nature. As a name, ‘York’ has always been part of something ‘New.’

But, as time passes, the city that raised ‘yours truly’, is not the same city I remember growing up in. This "York" that I live in now is still replacing the old and building itself to become "New". High rise condos, craft beer/cocktail bars, 24 hour delis, "Vintage" thrift shops, among other things is what the "New York" is turning into.

You probably think that I'm just a stubborn old New Yorker trying to cling onto the memory of what my city used to be, and that I am not willing to accept that change is a natural occurrence, especially in New York City. And you are probably correct in that assumption. I mourn the city I once knew as a place of diversity and originality–a melting pot and hate what it has become, a playground for the corporate companies that lack character.

The city I grew up in had distinguishable neighborhoods with small communities that were struggling to make ends meet. Together, these communities were making the best of what they had, providing normal childhoods the only way they knew. Back in the day, summers in NYC consisted of events like block parties, the purchasing of 25 cent juices with the little money you had, playing basketball until the street lights came on, hear loud radio playing, or chilling on a stoop in front of someone’s building. In these communities, everyone knew who the 'rotten apples' were, and as long as one would mind their own business, we would live in harmony–or at least wouldn't get fucked with.

          Then things changed. I vividly remember the art galleries popping up, one by one as though someone finally watered the seeds throughout the area. The faces I would pass every morning began to vary, not just in terms of age, but in ethnicity too. Everyone in the neighborhood embraced that change, at least us, the younger generation did. The transformation arrived as quietly as the rats scrambling to find food in garbage bags overnight. For a brief moment, the original residents coexisted with those who weren't from the same Caribbean Islands everyone else was from. Necessary changes needed within the neighborhood would come, where a lot of us had been struggling in for so long. Cultures were exchanged, and ideas were flowing as fast as the beer was being poured.

Oh boy, did the changes come: yellow cabs, restaurants, bars, renovated supermarkets with fresh organic produce became the indications of a renaissance if you will. Times seemed great and looked as if nothing could disrupt the breath of fresh air that was being pumped into our ‘hood'. Unfortunately, too much of a great thing can turn bad over time. Everybody wanted to join in and capitalize on the sweeping new changes that were occurring in the neighborhood.  More and more people were moving in as fast as they could with every week that passed. Train stations became overcrowded in the mornings. The rapid changes were turning empty lots that were once filled with trash as well as established apartment buildings into high priced, luxury condos. Skyrocketing rent was forcing life-long residents, who stayed and survived turbulent times, drugs and gang wars, to relocate to more affordable areas–often times outside of the city they had loved so much. Small businesses were struggling to stay afloat since the change in demographics had made regular customers slowly disappear like dust with the wind. Bodegas were morphing into 24-hour delis and prices for everyday items were increasing to unseen highs.

Every day brings a new wave of bad news of the slow death of what was once my neighborhood. Major chains such as Whole Foods, Anthropologie and Duane Reade have announced plans to set up new locations in our hood. All I see now is the ‘new residents’ dress like they're broke, bragging about where they live with their 14 roommates and complain about how much rent they pay per month, in between sips of Pabst Blue Ribbon and discussions about last week’s episode of “Girls”. The New York City I once knew seems more and more like a distance memory locked away with old antiques in a dusty attic. I am not sure how much more I can bare before I, too, am forced to make an exodus to the ‘trail of tears’ New York edition.

I'm a proud New Yorker who was born and raised in the Southside of Williamsburgh. The place I once called home represents nothing but capitalist thoughts and homogeneity now. It has become a place in which my culture, my history has become extinct. New York has always been a place of change and will continue to evolve long after my life has ended. My hope for future generations is that they will take pride in where they're from, cherish the simple things and not let trends dictate their perception of what New York City is, but rather contribute to what New York City can be, again.

Written by Andres Pascual: original post here.

"NewYork, I love you, but you're bringing me down" - LCD Soundsystem

Street Smarts

I Chose to Trust My Intuition, Would You?

The other day, I decided to visit the Bronx Zoo with a good friend of mine. It would become my first visit ever, and I was looking forward to spending this gorgeous early spring day outdoors.

I took the train from Brooklyn and prepared myself for the hour long ride with a great book. I ended up arriving at my stop a while before my friend got there. Luckily, there was a small plaza with benches and I decided to sit down on an empty bench to dedicate myself to the page turner I had brought with me, again.

Then, something awkward happened.

The benches – there were about six of them – were not all occupied. There must have been about three benches that no one was sitting on. But this teenage girl decided to sit right next to me.

Why had she chosen to sit next to me instead of one of the completely unoccupied benches?

Nevermind I thought, and read on in my book. Then, the second awkward thing happened. The young looking girl lit a cigarette, or something that looked like a small cigar. It seemed strange, because she looked like she was only 16 (maybe a little older). She finished her smoke, and then quickly jumped up, making the bench jerk since it was loose, giving me the sensation as if I was about to fall off for a second.

She rushed off, and I felt relived that she was gone, had her sitting right beside me given me a strange sense of 'something is off.'

I did not see where the girl was headed exactly, so the more it surprised me when she ended up exactly where she sat before – next to me for a second time. But this time, she scoots closer.

"Excuse me, I think I got off at the wrong stop, so I need to call my brother to make sure I'm at the right stop. Can I use your phone?"

I realized that she must have observed me being on my phone to post a picture on Instagram, before I had started reading my book. Her scooting closer to me, made my inner alarm ring. I looked at her and tried to believe her for a second, but I could not. I was checking her out, and she looked like a sweet, innocent girl who I guess likes to smoke small cigars. But something kept telling me she is not what she appears to be. I replied:

"No, you can't have my phone."

She thought for a second.

"Oh... well, I am not gonna take your phone, you can have my sweater and hold on to it, I am not going anywhere."

I almost considered holding on to her sweater, but again, that would have been a bad trade off, and I already started picturing her running off with my phone. I somehow knew I could not trust her.

"I will not give you my phone, ask someone else!"

She shook her head and turned away.

I thought about the situation some more. What if she was telling the truth? I felt bad for not helping her out. What if she really was lost? So I picked up my purse (which was situated between us too – and I kinda did not want her to be able to grab it), and pretended I was looking for something inside of it, when I had an idea. I decided to make the following offer.

"I can give you 50 cents, and you can go and call your brother."

By the way, she had not made any attempts to ask anyone else for their phone.

"No, but I don't have his number."

I got slightly angry at her for thinking I was buying her lies.

"So how were you gonna call your brother if you do not have his number?"

She had the audacity to say this:

"I need to go on Facebook and write on his wall."

This time I shook my head.

She remained on the bench, right next to me. A little too close, and I was hoping for my friend to arrive soon, to finally have a reason to get up.

Moving...

To a New Place in LIFE

Moving to a new place is a BIG deal. Moving in New York specifically is a BIG deal. I spoke to a woman in her 50's from San Diego, who helped her daughter find a place in Manhattan, who said t hat it was harder than buying million Dollar properties in Cali. While I almost gave up on our "dream place", her words -- as discouraging as they could have been -- they reassured me by proving that taking time and demanding all kinds of additional documents from a potential tenant, making them feel like chances are really low, is not out of the ordinary.

Now, three weeks after looking at this apartment, we are all moved in. It is my third night here and I am still getting used to it. At every slight sound, I am looking around, trying to find out where it came from. Fidel, our cat, is doing the same. I almost feel guilty realizing that it is taking him a while to get used to it, too. He has not been eating as much as usual and he is mostly hiding, preferably behind the couch or in the bed room. I wonder how long it will take us to feel completely comfortable. The apartment is great. It already looks awesome, with little furniture we had. It feels like a home, it is wonderful; yet, it is a new environment that just takes time to adjust to.

While I am getting used to it, I am thinking about how exciting changes are. Doing new things is inspirational. It gives me more energy, it makes my creativity flow. It reminds me of how quick we live in the status quo; it shows me how much our brains need to be stimulated.

I ♥ New York

City Stories: Danny and the Homeless



Image by Francis Joseph

Rainy day, umbrellas turn over, bump into each other, poke one another. The usual crowded subways, which on days like these seem even more unpleasant. The cramped up cars become cramped up with people’s somber moods very much influenced by the grey skies. On New York trains, people never look you in the face--at least not the locals. But some have a hard time looking away, trying not to meet anybody else’s eyes, like me. However, it seems like a part of New York’s culture, and maybe it is an American thing--one looks away, trying to be extra discrete.

New Yorkers spend a lot of time on the subway, and half its riders bring along a book or paper or magazine to read to make time pass. Luckily I had my book when I heard the following.

“ Hi my name is Danny, I used to get paid until I lost my job because I broke one shoulder. Since I am from Brazil I don’t see no food stamps, no welfare, nothing. Basically I have no money to pay for food or rent, so if you could help out with a dollar, a quarter, a dime, anything will help, thank you, god bless you.”

When people hear words like that, they usually try not to look. Sometimes it makes you shrug when someone yells out something like that while you are really into your book. Danny had a very loud, strong, almost intruding voice. I felt disturbed and was glad I had my book, since it becomes harder not to look up when someone is soliciting on the train. Danny looked like he was a young man in his mid twenties. I noticed his neatly shaped beard. I was wondering how he affords rent now, and why he would not find work that would not demand his shoulder. I didn’t know if that was a fair thought or not.

Danny passed me, collected some coins, which I heard pinging into his cup, and I went back to my book.

Minutes later another man enters the subway car. His appearance differs greatly from Danny’s. He is not very tall, his hood covers most of his face, he has a wildly grown full beard and his clothes are baggy and dirty. His voice is soft and way quieter.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am homeless looking for help. If you can assist me with some money or food, it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you, sorry to disturb.”

Out of the sudden another voice raises.

“You should learn how to juggle”, says a tall man in a black long coat and jeans.

“What?”

“You should learn how to juggle. People usually have to work in order to earn money for food, so if you learn how to do something, too, people are willing to pay you for your efforts.”

“Ok, I will try”, said the homeless man quietly and strove along through the subway car.

I could not help but be surprised at both men reactions. Although I feel like the guy had a point to what he was saying, he sounded kind of rude. Regardless, the homeless guy did respond politely and sounded like he would actually take learning to juggle into account.

I was thinking that Danny’s approach was wrong, too intrusive. Unfortunately, we are too used to homeless people asking for money on trains; therefore, different approaches could definitely be refreshing and enable someone to raise more money. At the same time, people are really in need, and I don’t know who would feel like entertaining a crowd on an empty stomach, after a possible cold, sleepless night outside…

I ♥ New York

City of Facades
Why do you put on a front
Show me your real face
New places new faces everyday
What do you stand for
What do you long for

City of facades
You are packed with false dreams
Of made up realities
Plastered with ads by the agencies
All to depict one dream

City of facades you are so fake
Make us imitate what others create

City of facades
Packed and crowded
Pidgins shouting
The lost
And lonely
Acting like a family
You confuse jealousy
With insecurity

City of Facades
I want to own you
I want to know you
I want to hear you
I want to love you