305

305 with the missing letter, that was my building number. I don't quite recall how long its been since the # 5 was missing or why nobody thought to replace it. I have lived in Brooklyn my entire life and decided to find the inner beauty of this neighborhood. As I walk off the train from the 3 line coming from the Bronx I see a group of guys standing in front of the Chinese restaurant. I walk on by them hoping to not make eye contact with any of them. The last thing I wanted was conversation, they all seemed happy. I heard a few weeks ago someone got shot, yet they were happy. Did they know that guy or did they become numb to death. Has death become so common that people smile through the lost? There is a strip of stores I have to walk past while passing them, the checking cash place is next. There is a line, and a homeless guy holding the door for whoever goes in. " Spare change anyone" he would say and nobody would give it to him. He was dark skin, his shoes looked worn out and they had holes in the front where I was able to tell he wasn't wearing socks. He had a light blue jeans that now looked of a dark blue and his shirt had food stains on it that seemed fresh. I walk to the supermarket Associated one of my favorites because its conveniently down the block from my building. The store has upgraded and its better looking and the workers are all nice and the atmosphere is friendly. I see a woman yelling at her child in front of the store her words got muffled as I chuckled at the face her son was making. He had a smirk on his face as if he didn't understand that he was in trouble, the word consequence seemed nothing but a word he had not a reason to know the meaning of. I saw two  female best friends walking they were both gossiping about some girl they didn't seem fond of " Her weave looks like Stevie Wonder did it " they laughed and quickly stared at me and went back to talking about her. I get closer to my building and as usual there is a bunch of guys standing in front of the lobby door. I don't speak to any of them but there all a familiar face. I never understood why hanging out downstairs was appealing to them but I never question it. I see a stray cat in front of my building and I try to get its attention, I love cats because I have one of my own. I always forget to take a can from home to bring outside I only ever remember when I actually see the stray cat. I go up to my lobby and one of the guys opens the door for me since I don't always have the key. One of the guys tries to ask my name, I tell him to be nice and all he says is hello and goes back outside. I see the same girl I see everyday who lives on the first floor I don't know her name and she doesn't know mine but we always say hello to each other whenever we see each other no matter what. The only conversation we ever had was her wanting to know what grade I was in and upon finding out I am in College she seemed so proud as if she doesn't hear that often from around here. She is older and I guess in a sense happy that someone isn't just sitting around doing nothing although that's all she appears to do herself.  I press the elevator to find that's its already here, I press 14 and I am now finally home.

Field Notebook

For this assignment I decided to head down the block where I used to live, 194^th street and Marion. I haven’t been there in 6 years so I thought it would be interesting to see what has changed. I start on top of a hill and look downward. Luckily the narrow streets and tall buildings help block the sun. Cars pass by blasting the latest rap songs. The floor is littered with wrappers, bags of potato chips and other pieces of trash. All the small bodegas that I used to go to were still there. I pass a questionable man and he asks me if “I want that sour.” I ignore him and keep heading downhill. The further I go the more things seem the same. The beauty shops, Chinese restaurant, laundry mat, pharmacy, it is all there.  It seems not much has changed since I have left except the block’s favorite pizza shop.   About two months before I left pizza shop closed down. It seems like nothing has occupied the spot and tried to replace it since. Across the street from the shop is a supermarket. Six months before I left the supermarket had moved in and since then, it has been easy to identify who lived in the area and who didn't. People’s faces start to get familiar and some people got friendlier.

Now I am at the corner at the last part of the hill. It is not a surprise that the same liquor store is still there, with the trademark bottle of liquor that rests in a brown bag outside the door. A few men hanging outside and have their conversations in Spanish. I turn the corner and see where I spent so much of my time as a teenager. I pass the bodega I have visited nearly every time I went outside. I even see one of the owners who were pretty surprised to see me. Outside of the door a few older people are hanging out, laughing and making a ruckus. A few steps later I arrive just outside my building. I notice a large black gate that sits near the spot I have spent so much time loitering around. I examine the street and notice the old skellzies board the block used to play on has now been paved over by a fresher black street. The first floor AC unit is still there. The one that a friend and I bent the blades to spell our name on it. A small grin creeps across my face as I regain more vivid memories of the times I have spent outside on this street.

Frank's Field notebook 09/17

This space is now empty but to the resident of 116th street is a landmark that people can't seem to forget or get over. 

The fall weather has arrived and the cool breeze forces us to add an extra layer to our clothing. It's Saturday and I am heading to my girlfriend house to take her out. Like most females she is not ready by the time we had agreed so I decide to do my assignment so I sit in front of her building and analyze everything and everyone around me. East Harlem is not part of New York City, it seems like it's own town. I walk from Lexington to 116^th street and I see a young lady with two kids by her sides with a bin filled with suit bread, mainly known as Mexican bread. The bread does looks enticing with its roundish shape and colorful topping. The lady catches me looking at the bread and tells me "dos por un dolar", I shake my head gently and continue walking. I then see the different amount of people walking down the hill as I walk up. The Dominicans coming out of the barber shop singing bachata and sipping on their Hennessey beers. One of them about 5'7 with curly hair and dancing slowly with his hands hugging his belly. He smiles as he speaks with one of his coworkers and I notice he has blue braces on. A Puerto Rican approaches them and gives them a pound. Apparently he is a customer and his Puerto Rican flag tatted on his arm is clear his is Puerto Rican. He has a thick accent and speaks the famous "Spanglish". I finally reach my girlfriend building and I sit in front. I hear a strong roar and realize it's the metro north rushing pass as it approaches the 125^th street station. The liquor store in the corner has many interesting people coming out of it. The African American comes out with her friend and are dress in promiscuous clothing. I stand from the front step and start heading towards the corner store to get myself a drink but realize it is closed then it hits me that not long ago a gas explosion occurred down the block from the store. I walk over to see how much damaged the explosion had done but one cannot tell. The space is very empty and if I was a tourist I couldn't tell that an explosion had occurred there. There's nothing, everything that was once there is no longer there. It looks like an empty space in New York City; more like a backyard to the adjacent building. It has me thinking about the people who died that morning. The fear my girlfriend encountered, the flames that burned in this space, and the chaos it erupted makes me think of how much such a small space can cause so many things at once. 116^th street is different than a 115^th street or 117^th street, it's a street where every different ethnic can be found. It's a street with million different faces and stories behind them. 

Field Notebook

I walked out the building and you could see the children running around in the park. It was a bright sunny day and I could feel the light breeze. I walked down the block towards riverbank state park and up those wretched stairs that leads to the entrance of the park. As I walk into the park, I see mothers with their carriages and teenagers getting ready to play basketball, while group of children are using their scooters. As I keep walking over the bridge to go into the park I see the cars on the highway underneath me passing by quickly. I continue to walk into the park and I see the handball courts and the baseball field, both filled with active players. I keep walking towards the railing that overlooks the Hudson River. I can see New Jersey from where I stand and I keep walking around the edge of the park admiring the water and all the park has to offer, like the football field and the track surrounding it. I walked towards the exit that leads me to 145^th and once I reach it, it feels like I left nature’s tranquility and entered the cities’ chaos. My walk is over and I wait for the Bx19 and head home.

Field Notebook 09/17

Between the hours of 3:00pm and 7:00pm, while walking down the streets of Harlem River Drive in Washington Heights for the first time in my life, I noticed that even though the place was completely unfamiliar, I still felt somewhat at ease. I found comfort in the fact that most of the people surrounding me where Hispanics as well, and despite the fact that they were total strangers, they gave me a friendly smile. I noticed how people who share commonalities seem to clique easier, in comparison to others. I distinctly recall this man and woman, who were both accompanied by dogs, walking on opposite directions on the sidewalk. As soon as they passed each other, the man stopped because the dogs started to smell each other, as dogs usually do. I could not make out or hear what the man and woman said to one another due to the fact that I had my headphones in, but I did notice that the woman smiled pleasantly, and then walked away with a smile on her face. 

As I kept strolling along the sidewalks, a familiar smell opened up my nostrils. It was the smell of Spanish food, and it reminded me of home so much that it made me a bit nostalgic. As I looked around, I saw a few restaurants opened, clothing stores full of customers, and a school whose playground was full of screaming children and teenage boys playing basketball. I thought about the park right outside of the building where I live, and how everyday when I came home from school, it would be packed with boys playing a basketball game, or even handball. I thought about how most of those boys probably didn’t know each other, but since they shared the same interest in ball, they would automatically become cool with each other. 

Being in the Heights made me realize that even though I had never been there prior to that day, I did not feel out of place because most of the things happening around me, happen in my neighborhood almost everyday. It gave me a sense of comfort and a feeling to want to return there soon and try the food from the Hispanic restaurants that made my mouth watery. 

Reading Response 09/17

            As I opened the upstairs gate to my house I was immediately hit with the cool fall breeze that usually accompanies school-age children in early September.  I look down at my watch with the little arm on 7 and the big arm on 9, I yelled out “Brandon you have 5 minutes to be outside, we aren’t driving today so we need to get going.”   My demand was drowned out by the NYSDS garbage truck B4 456 that stopped a few houses down to collect a neighbors trash.  As the truck proceeded to my house than down to the corner,along with the loud sound of the trash compacter came the vile smell that accompanies ones thought when we think about New York City in the 80’S. No sooner he emerged from the downstairs door with a blue oxford shirt with a crest that read “M.S 35 Stephen Decatur School, A Miracle on McDonough” and Khaki pants his sweater draped over his shoulder and backpack being dragged. Trying to avoid the morning rush due to the new charter school located on the corner of Patchen Avenue and Macon Street I told him to finish getting dressed in the yard. No sooner did I hear a rumble of young boys ranging from 10-14 years of age bouncing basketballs and rapping along with the lyrics to Brooklyn’s new anthem “Hot N***a” blaring from a late model Acura TL.  Walking down the stairs I watch as droves of children hastily made their way across the street while saying “Good Morning” to the older crossing guard then quickly up the three stairs and vanished behind the huge wooden doors. 

            Maneuvering through this morning school traffic by foot can feel like a flash mob in Grand Central, even though it is random, we all seem to be organized enough to not crash into each other in an attempt to make it to the school before the buzzer than quickly disperse.  As I approach the corner of Macon Street and Malcolm X Avenue, I pay more attention to the crossing signal than I do to the 2nd Crossing Guard in her blazing neon green vest and combination cap (which for the first time reminds me of my days in the Navy) that seems to be more absorbed in her IPHONE 5 than  to the multitude of children and parents waiting for her stamp of approval that it was now safe to “move about the cabin”.  As I watch the flashing hand with the flashing 4, I see the B46 breeze past the bus stop and notice that any space to be found on the bus was already filled with a body, book bag or wheelchair. The flashing hand with the flashing 3 presented what was slowly becoming a makeshift  parking lot for all the parents in sweats and pajamas engaged in the hustle and bustle of the “drop-off”.  The flashing hand and the flashing 2 presented a little girl with 3 pigtails 2 in the front and 1 in the back,  all held together with pink ponytail holders and pink barrettes, she wore a pink and brown dress with matching stocking and brown penny-less loafers holding a boy’s hand (who I assume was her younger brother) for dare life as if she was instructed to ”not let him go” until they reached their destination.  Finally steady hand and the flashing 1 shows a woman with a black handbag and shirt that says “Black Girls Rock” dash diagonally through the intersection to catch the next bus, paying little to no attention to oncoming traffic, to the children trying to make it to school or even the oblivious crossing guard who has now shifted her focus to the crazy lady running to catch the bus.  As I crossed the intersection of Stuyvesant Avenue and Macdonough Street I notice a green Taxicab with its hazards on, the driver opened his door and swiftly  walked to the trunk to remove 2 pull suitcases and duffel bag all identical for a young couple (I assume) who stood waiting on the steps of Akwaaba Mansion. It’s funny how we overlook the little treasures of our community.Standing on the corner on Lewis Avenue and Macdonough Street, hearing the bells of St. Phillips Episcopal Church, I finally received my daily cue, it was 8am. I was immediately distracted by a loud crash of glass behind me. I turned to see a staff member of a local restaurant trying to salvage whatever was left of the glasses he dropped.

            As the children settled into there classrooms, a quiet airiness has taken over the once populated streets. The car filled streets have seem to have cleared, the busy chatter has died down, the buses and bus stops that were once filled to capacity seems deserted, older people seem to finally risen to have their morning coffee and paper and people and have   suddenly found time to partake in morning chitchat. Everything has slowed down and is moving at a slower more relaxed pace.  I see other parents/grandparents and guardians making their way back home.  I laugh to myself how wonderful they all seem to look after 12pm but right now they all look disheveled including myself in a grey Adidas sweat suit, a scarf on my head and an original pair of Air Max from 1995. I busily kick around some leaves that have fallen off the trees and I notice even I am moving at a slower pace/peace!!!

Field Notes

Location: 34th between Broadway and 5th avenue

Crossing a two way street it's about 8 o'clock at night and just leaving work. It was a bit cold outside then earlier this day. The sun seems to be set already. All I can see is bright more then I did when I went to work. Many cars and taxi cabs were lined up at the red light on the corner of by Victoria Secret. Waiting for the light to turn red and walk sign to appear. I began  start walking to across the street. I look both ways to make sure the cars stop at the red light. I see a Japanese or Chinese  couple holding hands and smiling at the same time. I look down her feet because she has the same Zara shoes as I do. I was a bit confused because it was too cold to wear sandals. Behind the couple was Caucasian teenage boys. They were smiling and joking around while passing me to get to the opposite side. They were carrying H&M bags which it seemed as if they went shopping and where heading towards Macys.

I finally get across the street on the sidewalk. Where I see Mc Donald's, an international bank along with an Bar and Grill restaurant. On that corner, there was a homeless women getting yelled at by a man in a suit. The man seemed a bit mad because he started turning red. I passed the homeless women and man because I didn't know what was going to happen. I continue to keep walking straight on the corner.  On the same corner, I see there a D,B,F train station heading uptown. Next to the train was a Arabian man who owns a hot dog stand. I passed the train station and hot dog stand. At the hot dog stand was two old lades ordering a hot dog and pretzel. 

Across the street from the train station was an all black building with a bright yellow writing that read, “No Parking”.  This really caught my eye because the building was painted all black with a noticeable bright writing. On my side of the street, there was a hotel. The name of the hotel is called Garden hotel. I saw that there were several seating areas in the front of the hotel and decided to sit down for a few minutes. I sit down and saw a big out of town bus. The bus was parked right in front of the hotel. I was wondering if was someone in the bus was famous. Fives minutes later the doors open on the bus and their teenagers boys and girls coming off the bus.  I can’t tell they weren't from New York was they had British accents. They had big duffle bags with them. I looked to my right and  there was another couple aside of me drinking from their starbucks cups. I was thinking to go to starbucks when I’m walking towards the bus the head home. On the other side of the hotel, there were bright green brushes. A man that mostly works at the hotel was spraying water on the brushes and side walks. As he was spraying the water, a group of people were passing by was trying not to get wetas they were walking pass the hotel. 

Reading Response 09/17

Faster than the speed of light

                Saturday 2:15, I had just finished taking the six train downtown to 42^nd street station. I was wearing Jeans, white Converse, and white shirt with a giraffe logo, a blue cardigan over the shirt and had my hair up in a bun. It was particularly a cold day, I thought to myself “so much complaining during summer about wanting hoodie weather and now that’s cold I miss the warm climate”.  Heading down 42^nd street felt like an eternity due to the fact that I live on Westchester square and is 25 stops in between these two stations.   Train is ordinary to me; I sat next to a mother from Mexican ethnicity and her five children. They ages seemed to be close apart; they were all little with good hair and were giving their mother a hard time because they refused to sit down. She looked agitated and couldn’t handle the five boys.  She got off on Elder Avenue.  Everyone on the train minds their own business except for the guy that was sitting to my left. As I was reading a book called “the Secret The Power” by Rhonda Byrne I felt his eyes burning right through the pages.  It didn’t bother me because the context of the book is so incredible that sharing it would be the right thing to do, so I allowed him to read along with me.  Before getting off the train he questioned me about the book, he asked “where did you get that book” in attempt to begin a conversation with me. I responded, “It was a gift” than he proceeded to tell me how much he had heard about it and that he always wanted to read the book. I gave him some of the major points that the book addressed and strongly recommended to buy it.   As I kept heading downtown, the same man that begs all the time appeared a white male around his 50s.  This time he didn’t have his kids with him. He always has the same story of “could you please, please, please, please help feed my children, a penny or a quarter is not too much to ask to save a starving child”. I had already memorized his words from all the times I’ve seen him on the train. I rushed to put my headphones on as I buried my head in my book like an ostrich in order to block his misery out.  I thought to myself “get a job”.

                I had finally reached 42^nd street and mentally prepared myself to be able to get out of the train. Not only was it crowded, once the doors open is like a stampede of animals all running together to get into the train disregard of who they have to run over.  Shoving and pushing I managed to get out of the train.  It was 3:30 pm by then. As I reached the surface I headed towards First Avenue and 47^th street to Dag’s Patio Cafe. They sell the best Chicken Pita and Apple wood cheddar burgers.  As I walked I observed a man approximately 400 pounds eating a burger, he was wearing all black attire which blended with the color of his skin. He seemed jolly and walked with his mouth open savoring the burger like it was his favorite food. Couples are holding hands, happily kissing in the corner of 43^rd street. There’s a myriad of people walking, well dressed suits, everyone seems to be in a rush and walk passed me at the speed of light, I find myself turning into a pebble being dragged down with the current of the river. This view reminded me of the Walking Dead, Majority of people wearing dull colors and heading towards the same direction.  Crossing the street is difficult; individuals look like robots or cyber creatures walking blindly because they too busy looking at their phones. I encounter this man approximately 6 foot high crossing the street, in an instant our words collided and we engaged in perfectly coordinated dance. As I would go right, he would go right causing our bodies to bump one another, as I would go left he would also go left. We had no choice but to pause, laugh and figure a way to escape from one another, so I said “you go right I go left”.  Perfect.   I kept walking down the avenue, a pigeon starred at a piece of bread on the floor, hesitant to get it due to the flow of people below. Stores filled both streets, from fast food restaurants to clothing stores and other businesses.  Individuals run amok attempting to catch yellow taxis.  Such a beautiful chaos.  I finally reached my destination, located in the center of the park; they were dogs everywhere, from German shepherd to pit-bull to golden retrievers. I saw a pit-bull run into a big water fountain, this filled me with joy.  Construction workers sat together with their luminescent attire enjoying a cup of coffee.  Two teenage lovers were feeling up on each other sitting on the benches, they nearly swallow one another. The smell of grilled chicken filled my nostrils, giving me a satisfying sensation. I proceeded to order a chicken pita with a large coke and French fries. I was able to escape the madness of 42^nd street and finally sit down in peace to enjoy a meal with one of my friends.

Field Notebook

San Gennaro Festival

    My sister and I made plans to head to the San Gennaro Street Festival, also known as Little Italy on Mulberry Street. The weather was a beautiful day for it. En route to the train station a three-wheeled car sped by blaring music. Everyone just stopped and stared. We took the downtown 5 train from the Bronx to 14th Street, and transferred to the 6 train, and got off at Canal Street. The train ride can be very entertaining at times, and this was one of those days. Their was kids dancing, and flipping, not caring how crowded the subway car was. To kids selling candy, and I cant forget the man telling jokes for some change.

    Once we got to Canal Street the scenery changed. The streets are very crowded with street vendors selling everything you can think of from clothing, bags, jewelry, and many other things. The streets are filled with plenty of restaurants, but I held back because  the best part of the festival is the food. When we arrived  to the festival the aroma of the sizzling sausages with peppers and onions had my mouth watering for some. We made our way through the crowd, which was not easy, and watched as the floats passed by. They had a cannoli eating contest. Rides and games for the kids. They had a great deal of food, drinks, and treats, which consisted of  fried Oreos, fried twinkies, zeppoles, and gelato. They had a lot of restaurants with outdoor seating, but again my mouth was set on something else. 

    I was a little hesitant about trying the fried Oreos, but it wasn't bad at all. The vendors start to repeat themselves as you continue walking block after block. After we saw everything we wanted to see we found a place to sit and enjoy our sausage and peppers, which was delicious. It gets crowded really quick so it's best to go as early as possible. 

AnansnAn

Field Journal 9/17

Christian Persaud
Field Journal
Response:

As usual, the streets and the sidewalk are gritty and ridden with all kinds of garbage but also coupled with the unique atmosphere of a living, breathing city. Many people say this is the very essence of the city, what makes it stand out from the rest. If New York is meant to be the capital of the world, I guess being born here ruined it all for me. I honestly think that if I were to explore a new environment, one that is completely organized and spotless, it would become a totally surreal experience.
My escapade continues as I plan to take the route that leads me to my old middle school, a path I have not taken for about nine years. As I crossed the street I saw middle school students sitting on the bench at the park I will walk through. Every time I go through there I have flashbacks of when I used to walk with my long-forgotten best friends through the same very park. I notice a once large field of overgrown grass now has now evolved into a baseball field but still is surrounded by the same rusty fence.
I keep walking and spot an assortment of cars glistening in the setting sun's sunlight. Apart from being blinded, I realize just how much better a sunset looks when in a metropolis. A sunset is something I usually do not see therefore I tend to walk a little slower to bask in its aura. When I kept on walking, I notice several places where safety probably is not possible. Thankfully, this very neighborhood does not seem to be that kind of area where its people are in a free-for-all mindset on any given day.
 

   Field Notebook                    



                  Rainy day, as i wake up this morning stared outside my bedroom window to see the nasty rainy weather. Shook my head at the thought of a nasty commute to the city. The city full of people walking in packs like wolfs all day long with there umbrellas during the early morning rush. I gathered myself together , did my morning routines and was set to face a dreadful morning commute. Hopped on the two train to start my journey to work, destination 59th street Lexington. The cold breeze slapped  my face as i emerge from under the tunnel onto the streets, my umbrella was getting ready to be used again as i opened, it walked a few steps it started rocking from side to side battling with the wind and other pedestrians. I ran into a Starbucks to get some coffee and snacks to eat before i walk into my company. I sat and looked through the windows  and smiled at the fact that this one guy was struggling to keep an hold on his umbrella as the wind was determined to snatch it away.
                         It was a busy cold morning on the streets of Lexington. Rain boots was the outfit of the day. Man , women and even their young ones each had a pair of rain boots and umbrella. They were ready for whatever the weather had in store for them. I slowly sipped my coffee and has my eyes caught what looked to be an accident. This lady was obviously in a rush to get to where she was going ,and probably had allot on her mind, as she tried to beat the traffic light , she made a quick turn and in seconds she rare ended a yellow cab driver. At that moment in time  i knew where ever she was rushing to she was going to be late. Sometimes we just need to exercise a lil bit of patience in other to avoid scenarios like this . Everyone stood still to watch the drama that is about to unfold.

Field Notebook

As I begin my journey into the streets of the Bronx, the sun slowly creeps out from behind the clouds. Surely this was a sign that today was going to be an excellent day. While walking down the sidewalk I noticed many things. Despite it being early September, it seems as though the leaves were already competing with the sidewalk for a place to rest. As I continue down the street, the park caught my eye. The monkey bars seemed to be exploding orange. Maybe it was because the sun just came out and there was still water all over them. As fun as they looked, the aftermath the rain storm left them bare and unloved. Plants that need a trimming consume the fence that surround the park and the railings on the side of the newly paved stairs that enter it. Finally I've reached the corner where the green box giving power to the crosswalk sign catches my eye. Upon it lay two posters. One filled with bright yellows and oranges promoting a spanish music festival  and the other mostly black with a picture of earth on it preaching about saving our planet. 

As people wait for the bus a few feet away from me, I wait for the little digit crosswalk man to say it's my turn to cross. The little man pops up on the screen giving me the ok to cross. Just before I start walking I am startled from behind by an older woman speaking spanish on her cell phone in a bit of a panic. Together we make our way to the end of the crosswalk only to go our separate ways. While continuing on the sidewalk over the bridge I see MTA officials working on the trains while they wait to depart. I also notice graffiti slowly starting to devour the cement underneath the fence that overlooks the train yard. Words like "ARK", "Gas One", "XPRESS" and other illegible phrases written in black and silver sit their just staring at me. I continue on toward the corner where I plan on taking a closer look at people. A little girl dressed in pink, skipping with her doll in hand and mother by her side bolt by me trying to catch the bus that clearly wants to leave. 

Finally I make it to my destination, the entrance to the train station. Being from a small town that's  a square mile only fifteen minutes north from here I start to really take notice of all the people traveling to different places. I never see this in my town because the nearest train station is a fifteen minute drive away. Even the bus stops  by my house are rarely occupied. Over the course of half an hour I must have seen at least fifty people walk into the train station. Everyone seemed to be in their own little worlds and backpacks and headphones really seemed to be trending.  Despite all the big puddles at every corner of the intersection, groups of people with MTA cards in hand scurried across the street in that fifteen second crossing window ready to board their train or catch the bus. This corner didn't seem to be a hangout place. The two little shop jammed packed with snacks and newspapers were overrun by all two people shopping there. Everyone who walked by appeared determined to get somewhere. Suddenly a yellow jacket that had seem to fall in love with me decided my note pad would be a nice place to hangout. Like the sun coming out before I left, I figured this was a sign that my trip was slowly coming to an end. That being said, I decided to pack up and head back down the busy city street to go hop in my car and return home to the quiet little town I call home.  

Field Notebook

I decided to sit down in front of where I live. I grew up in the Bronx on 149st. I've been here for over 14 years now so I seen it transform, grow, and prosper over the years. From the corner with 149st and the 6 train station on Southern Blvd, at 12 pm, I can see that neighborhood is like the rest of the city. People are out and about. People coming into the stations and exiting. One lady seems to be late, she's waking fast, dodging people in her way towards the station entrance. Dressed in slacks, a blazer, and dress shoes I can only imagine she's late to her job or a meeting. A student passes by beats headphones on rapping out loud bookbag on shoulders. In another block people are entering and exiting C town. People come out with groceries. In this particular supermarket, bag boys help you bring the groceries home for tips which I see 2 ofbthen doing. Pushing the shopping cart following the person home. Outside the supermarket are taxis dropping and trying to pick up people. Its a mixture of green and black town car taxis. Both sounding their horn to people standing by bus stations or people standing by street corner. On a different street is a visible dunkin donoughts who is active. People come out with hot coffee and got other items in the brown paper bags with the dunkin donoughts logo. Theres a subways next to thebdunkin donoughts but it seems lacking in people. Perhaps the store didn't stick with the neighborhood. The day is great. A bit chilly but with some in sweaters with hoodies Others in long sleeve, and some oblivious still walking around in shirts, shorts, and shades on. Other than being chilly it's a calm day. A few clouds here and there but Fall in the air. Dukin donoughts is advertising punkin lattes and pastries. On an entrance to an apartment, a group of men are playing dominoes in a small table with others looking on. It's almost a ritual, all summer long, the same group plays dominoes into the night but as soon as fall arrives, they stop. Guess it's one of the last games. The latest progress in the neighborhood is the building of a giant apartment build. It's being built by New York City. I assume it's one if the rent controlled apartment buildings being built around the city. Construction workers have been working since last year. The building looks just about ready. Since the buildings are more south than the rest of the stores and buildings in the neighborhood (the area south of the neighborhood is an industrial park so you can clearly see where the general neighborhood end) you can see the Manhattan skyline. The Empire State building, Chrysler building and One World Trade Center are visible behind the new apartment building. The corner where I live on 149th street and Southern Blvd. Looks vibrant, busy, active, and homely. A mixture of people heading to jobs, schools, or just relaxing around.

Field Notebook 09/17

The Q12 Bus in Roosevelt
Avenue.

The closed down Pizza
shop mentioned in the text.

As the sun is sinking to the west, I arrived in Roosevelt Avenue in Woodside, Queens. It’s a busy avenue surrounded by quiet streets. Right above it is the 7 Train track. After getting off on the 52^nd street train station, I walked towards the east and paused for a bit, waiting for the orange light to turn white. Across the street from me are a Filipino couples that I assume is headed to “Payag”, a Filipino restaurant next to the train station. As I walk by them I notice a nightclub in the other side of the street with Spanish advertisement outside, despite seeing this place empty all day, I can only imagine how wild it is during the night. As the train above roared past me towards the east, I walked past a bright and colorful sushi place, how my stomach growled from the sight of the pictures of sushi and sashimi outside the place. Right after crossing the street my stomach growled even louder as I see an elegant Mexican restaurant with a an aroma that stimulates my stomach as I salivate, but after looking ahead, my stomach fell the ground when I see that my favorite pizza place is still closed for renovation, it's been months since I tasted their soft cheesy edge and thin crust pizza. Distracted by the excited elementary student throwing relentless story to her equally enthusiastic father walking behind me, I almost walked by the most tragic place in the avenue, the flower shop where I used to buy red roses for the one that got away. It is amazing how one place can bring years of sorrowful emotions, in just a blink of an eye. As I get further from the station, there were less stores and restaurants to be seen and the amount of residential places increased. As I walk through the now dull and colorless street I hear a bus honk twice before it reaches the bus stop where an old fragile woman with at least three bags of heavy grocery was waiting. Getting closer the next train station, I see more and more stores emerging, the now dull streets is getting brighter and louder the closer I walk to 61^st street Woodside station. It got even brighter as I see the McDonalds within arm’s reach. How relieved I was to finally find some place to eat, and how relieved my stomach will be later on.

The Nigh Club with Spanish
Advertisement as mentioned in
the text.

The Flower Shop mention in the text

The colorful Sushi place
 mentioned in the text

Field Notebook 9/17

 Walgreens store located at Westchester Ave  

It is a Saturday afternoon; 4:30 pm and I am heading out the door with an umbrella in my hand. It is a rainy and gloomy day for the Morrison-Soundview community. My block, Stratford Ave, is so different from how you see it on a lively summer day. Today, no one is sitting outside the sidewalk chitchatting; nobody is using their deafening stereo system to play music, and the vendor selling slushies every day at the corner is missing. As I walk down my block, I take joy in the rare silence of the street and the relaxing music created by the falling rain drops that hit my umbrella. Across the block, I see a man and woman who seem to be of Hispanic nationality walking in the same direction as I. We are all heading to the shopping center of the neighborhood, located in Westchester Ave. I look through the windows of the T-Mobile shop and see a teenager and her mom arguing as they checked out the latest cellphones. Even though it was raining, the shop’s huge letter T was brightly lit in the color purple with the purpose of attracting its clients. I then walked down to Morrison Ave and as I entered Walgreens, I noticed that there was actually one vendor that didn’t make rain his obstacle when selling his fruit. He took shelter from the rain under Walgreens’ pharmacy sign and talked over the phone as he waited for customers. I thought about how tedious the day must be for him and the store, BX Furniture due to the lack of customers.

Jaqueline's Bakery located between Manor Ave and Westchester Ave

Associated Supermarket however, is an exception. This supermarket is always crowded no matter what. I remember when the news announced hurricane Sandy’s arrival to New York City; the supermarket was loaded with people trying to get hold of the last bread. And so as I walked by the supermarket, I heard the usual sounds; the beep that results as cashiers scan the items and the loud Spanish music being played. I continued to walk towards Manor Ave and just as I was about to cross the street, I heard the six train pass above me. I could actually feel under my feet the vibration the train’s movement causes to the sidewalk.Next; I encountered Jacqueline’s Bakery, my mom’s favorite place to have breakfast in. I smelled the warm and sweet scent of the expresso coffee my mom loves and took notice of the dentist office that was across the street. Black swirly letters of graffiti now covered the closed business and I wondered if it would reopen someday. It was now 5:30 pm and I realized it was getting a little late. I had homework to do and so I started to walk my way back to Stratford Ave. The rain had slowed down and I no longer felt the need to use my umbrella. As I walked up my block, I found and greeted my friend Ericka who had went out to get tomatoes from the fruit market next to her building. We had a small conversation about school and soon I was home, at my five story building with beige and dark brown bricks with a design similar to that of a castle. 

Field Respone 09/17

Field Response 09/17

It is Monday afternoon and I return home from school around 6:00. As I am leaving the 4 train station on 176 street, I see a young man being handcuffed by the police. I assume he jumped over the turnstiles. I continue walking out the station and start walking home. I decided to walk in a slow pace to really see all the things that I normally walk past on a daily basis. The whole sidewalk is filled with small businesses. The check cashing place followed by a small discount store, Jerome pharmacy, a Chinese store, an African market, a hardware store, and on the corner there is a big 99 cent store. I have been living in this neighborhood all my life and developed friendly relationships with some of the store owners and workers. I am constantly in the African market and the 99 cent store and I know where everything is at. A group of Spanish men set up a table right under the train station where they sell fruits and vegetables to the community. They are always busy and work at a fast pace. Perhaps their low prices attract a lot of customers including my mom.

When I reach the end of the block, I start walking up to 175 street. The side of the 99 cent store has been painted by students from the community center. I love to look at it when I’m passing by. I notice a lot of trash on the sidewalks as I am walking home and I can’t help but wonder why people litter when there are garbage cans on the corners of the sidewalks. The Bx32 bus stopped to let a wheelchair passenger on and all I can hear is the loud mechanical energy coming from the engine. All the cars behind the bus also had to stop and wait for the bus to move because it is a two-way street. The Laundromat that is always packed was very empty today. Possibly the cold weather kept everyone inside. Two little kids coming from school running down the sidewalk while their mom call out their names “Ashley” and “Justin.” Of course, they pay no mind to her and continue running. I crossed the street that have no street lights and have not had any for as long as I can remember. I pass by three young Spanish boys who play ball everyday on the street corner. They stop playing for a quick second so I can walk by. Once I reach my building, the quietness did not surprise me because it is always like that. I realized that a lot of things go on in my neighborhood that I normally would not pay mind to. When I pay close attention to the actions and the little things that are around, I begin to understand why things are the way they are.