When I was a little girl my mom bought her first apartment in Astoria, Queens. Astoria is a small yet diverse community right before the big city, New York City. Astoria is filled with many brick houses and buildings, it is not that colorful. There is so much shopping you can do here too. You can also grab something to eat at one of the many restaurants, and to burn it off you can go dancing at one of the many nightclubs. My house was located in a great red brick building with a brown metal door. There were eight other apartments alongside mine all different with distinct charms. The apartments were the same with the same amber brown hue painted on the doors, but the people inside them were what made them unique. When you smell spanakopita in the oven, arroz con condules on the stove, curried goat in the broiler, and penne al a vodka being sauteed, you know you have a diverse neighborhood. Living in that multicultural stew has taught me many things (aside from learning how to say “hello” in six different languages). One thing my neighborhood has taught me was that a neighborhood is not just the brick buildings aligning a one way street, or a row of houses each with a clean cut lawn, it is your neighbors who are the main ingredients in that stew. Each and every one of my neighbors had some type of experience or knowledge to share with me; most of them being immigrants and coming to America to seek better lives. I never knew I can relate to someone who was not the same skin color as me, or who did not speak the same language, but I was in for a surprise. Asking my neighbor for some sugar and realizing it was the same sugar I used at home, was a startling experience for a young girl who believed her culture was worlds away from another.
This blog is intended to be an international conversation about our neighborhoods. What makes a neighborhood? How are we defined by the places where we once lived, where we live now? What would others see if they had a glimpse of our neighborhoods? At the State University of New York at Fredonia, we started to ask ourselves these questions, and we wanted to post our descriptions and invite others to do the same. We are hoping for an album of neighborhood images and descriptions--and plenty of opportunities for questions, dialogues, and musing.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
My Neighborhood
My neighborhood is one of the most interesting places you would go. If you go to the right three blocks you'll walk into the flatbush projects. However if you go down five blocks in the opposite direction you will see million dollar houses and a beautiful park. I always love running laps around this park with its constant scenery a good weather. My neighborhood is truly a diverse and great place.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
My Neighbor
In China, there is an old saying "A near neighbour is better than a distant relative", which means neighbour sometimes could help us a lot.
When I was a child, I always can't find my door key when I came back from school. And usually at that time ,there was no one at home, which means I should stay out. My neighbours always kindly invited me to stay at their homes to wait my parents back from work.
In our country, we can meet our neighbour almost every day. We will know what happened at neighbour's homes. We care about others and would love to help each other. That make our relationship very close.
When I was a child, I always can't find my door key when I came back from school. And usually at that time ,there was no one at home, which means I should stay out. My neighbours always kindly invited me to stay at their homes to wait my parents back from work.
In our country, we can meet our neighbour almost every day. We will know what happened at neighbour's homes. We care about others and would love to help each other. That make our relationship very close.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Our Neighborhood in Gaborone, Botswana
The Village: Plot 4715 |
Cow Passing Through the Village |
Although there is very little public transportation, there are few sidewalks or pedestrian facilities anywhere in Botswana, and for this reason, many people walk down our somewhat quiet and less perilous street, as opposed to choosing one of the busy arterials that parallel our street. When most folks pass each other, they will smile and say "Dumela Rrra or Dumela Mmma" for "Hello Sir or Madam." There are scattered dusty or muddy empty lots in our neighborhood that become the sites of seemingly impromtu driving schools and car washes, and people often have truckloads of produce for sale here and there. There are large pullout areas for the "combis" (minivans) that transport people throughout the City or to the main bus station downtown. A ride on a combi is inexpensive but sometimes terrifying because the combi drivers weave crazily through traffic. Traffic here travels on the opposite side of the road from that in the US, so being in traffic is always a hair-raising experience for us.
Thapong Visual Arts Center |
Just two blocks away is a Choppies, a Batswana supermarket chain. This Choppies is usually extremely busy and the tiny parking lot is often a huge traffic jam. Inside the store, pop music is blasting and the shelves are perpetually being stocked so getting around in there is always confusing and chaotic. All along the edges of the parking lot, card tables are set up with people selling candy, single cigarettes, gum and phone cards. Near Choppies there is also a pharmacy, a hair salon, a bakery, an internet cafe, a take-way restaurant, a bar, and a bottle store (liquour store). The National Botanical Gardens is within walking distance, and this is a wonderful place to take a walk, get some fresh air, and watch the dassies scrambling among the rocks, and perhaps the local troop of vervet monkeys will be there too, if they are not raiding our garbage can at the time. There is also a gym within walking distance with a refreshingly cool swimming pool surrounded by palm trees with dangling southern masked weaver nests.
The Ngotwane River "runs" (it is usually dry) along the edge of this neighborhood separating it from the neighboring Tlokweng, which was once a separate village but is now a quickly expanding suburb of Gaborone. All this growth means that roads are being constantly widened, and no provisions are made for business or pedestrian access, so pedestrians must pick their own way through active construction zones in and amongst backhoes and steamrollers and often across ditches or huge mounds of dirt. Considering that most folks wear fancy clothes and shoes all of the time, we don't know how they arrive at their destination looking so dapper!
Our neighborhood is full of all sorts of sounds. At dawn, we hear a variety of birds and the sounds of marching and singing from the nearby Police Academy. When there is a soccer match at the University Stadium, we can hear cheering and vuvuzuelas. The sound of traffic is nearly constant. The sounds of cow- and goat-bells tinkle by from time to time. This time of year (late spring), the afternoon often yields booming thunder and torrential rain. We hope you have enjoyed this brief glimpse of our neighborhood; if you have a question about it, please post it in the comments below!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
I like to sit and watch people at the Clock Tower Square, which is right in the center of Thimphu. I took this photo from a bench. Behind me, there are several shops, a travel agency, a supermarket, not American style but a large by Bhutanese standards shop with lots of goodies such as yogurt, milk, local cheese, cereals, crackers and what not. In front, you see a few OK-quality hotels on the main through-fare of the capital, Norzin Lam. To the left, you can see some of the prayer wheels, which you turn to send messages of peace and joy to the universe, a common practice here. The air is thin, breathing could be difficult, for we are at 7800 ft up. But the air is clean and clear (see the clouds above the hotels) and breathing is fulfilling in a new sort of way -- every breath is not completely satisfying and you long for more air, just a bit.
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