Japanese and Yidish whispers embedded deep in the historic streets.
And to think the now Mexican@ dominated borough once was a multicultural affluent community, is inconceivable to most in this barrio. An all too familiar sound of the gun “bang” has consumed all possibility of such ideas. Amidst this rhythm, the enchilada smell finds its way to me and the trompeta sounds become one with souls of the proletariat. Mariachis, loncheras smoothly decorate landscapes, street vendors sprinkled everywhere from corner to corner simply surviving, because out here there is no option of a 9 to 5. Musical elegance resonates all through the alleyways and backyards of this neighborhood, as the the tune of life is played on Sunday morning by chiquios with raspados on hand. I would like to welcome everyone to a corner, right next to a shop where tostilokos are sold; to a corner located in my Boyle Heights.
