The Hood

I am now moved into my new apartment in Washington Heights, which is a Latin section of Manhattan, way uptown. Most of the people in my building and in the neighborhood are real families, mostly from Dominican background. (In midtown and in my last neighborhood in Queens there are almost no children.) It's a very colorful neighborhood with lots of small interesting businesses that cater to the hardworking Latin men, women and the children that live in the many 6 and 7 story residential apartment buildings in the area. The rear of all these buildings face towards each other and so you can hear everyone living their lives through their kitchen and bedroom windows, listening to their music, talking to each other, shouting, laughing, singing. It's not so noisy to be intrusive, but the evenings are energetic to be sure. One of the residents of the block is a very accomplished opera singer. She practices in the evenings and is better than most of the singers I've heard at the City Opera in Lincoln Center. I hope I get to meet her one day. When I practice my own music I am well aware that many people on the block can hear me if I have the windows open. Living around monied white people, I was always self-conscious of leaving the windows open while practicing. But in this neighborhood, somehow it seems natural and right. It's just one more contribution to the vibrant symphony of life that is played out every night here.

Many of the store owners and employees here don't speak English. Now it's been 4 years since I last took Spanish lessons, so I'm pretty rusty, and thus seem to provide a continual source of amusement for the natives here as I stumble through my botched Spanish to ask for a laundry pickup or pizza delivery. But it's nice to be able to buy a laundry bag that would cost $7 in Bed Bath and Beyond in midtown, for $1 in my neighborhood dollar store. One of the most interesting sights in this store was an impossibly large pile of pregnancy testing kits behind the register. That, coupled with the fact I've seen many young nubile latin girls, and almost none of them visibly pregnant invites some interesting speculation. I've been trying out a gym nearby and unlike the gyms in midtown, most of the men are busy building muscle mass with the free weights and couldn't give a damn about cardio exercise or body fat. There's loud salsa music everywhere, and huge avocados and mangoes are for sale on the sidewalks next to taco carts and knock-off DVD's. Outside the clothing stores live plastic mannequins with ghetto butts that generously fill out $7 pairs of women's jeans. Amid all this activity I found a very peaceful, quiet Japanese restaurant that I've already visited twice.

It's now 5:20am. Time for this musician to go to bed. After all I have to be in work at 9:30. (ummm...at night).