After about a full five days in town (and a respectable 8 hours of sleep), I can say with conviction that I really like my neighborhood. At first, my first impression left me feeling a little out of sorts. "Queens," I thought, which means "multicultural" and "working-class" -- both good things (esp. for a gentrifier like me, if we want to be sadly self-critical about what I am, moving from the Mission to Williamsburg as i did) but also a little alienating for an (apparently) white and (barely) academically-employed jeune femme.
Chateau-D'eau, the closest metro stop, is a meeting place for a local African community (which stretches along ligne 4 up to Clignacourt). Dudes literally hover around the station entrance and ask things that I don't yet understand (According to these awesome photos, and against my initial belief which was based on "The Wire," it seems the dudes are waiting to see which of their friends emerge from the station -- rather than acting as corner boys. But, I don't know -- there is a lot of parasitical loitering around that station . . .)
This community stops dead in the middle of the block. It's very strange. It goes immediately from black to brown/yellow as I approach my house -- where all the kid's clothing stores are, owned mostly by Chinese or Middle Easterners.
If you continue West, you walk toward the Canal St. Martin, the hipster neighborhood. Aha! My people -- who have turned a previously drug-ridden scary place that lined an ignored and polluted channel, into a playground of organic grocery stores and over-priced bistros.
Needless to say, I know where I am going to hang out and study in the afternoons . . .
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