Transitory Connections

I knew that every time I’d wake up and look out the ventana of my very own bedroom, the one on Warren Street across the CYO, the clouds would always be there ready to welcome me to a new dia. But the best days were the weekends, of course; especially when Abuelita Chuy came from Mexico, because those were the days we hit all the callejones!! After eating some tostadas de huevos con frijoles or my favorite-chilaquiles-we’d get in the dad’s white ford caballito and we’d drive down the swervy driveway, straight onto La Brooklyn.

On Saturday mornings, or at least whenever we’d leave before 8:30AM, I’d always see my friends and other kids standing in wild lines on the playground of the San Antonio de Padua Church, waiting for their catechism teachers to get to their lines. I never envied them because I was long gone, heading down La Brooklyn, pass Gem Lines frame store, and flying over the rainbow in papi’s caballito. This Puente was my rainbow that connected me to new adventuras. I knew that the bridges, como mis nubes, always waited patiently, day after day, breathing infinite possibilities of a new day.

Mundos,
gente,
alleys full of clothes,
my grandma always regatiando with the vendors at the cayellones to get the best price,
trinkets,
wanna-be hello kitty pencils, pens, crayons, carrying cases, notebooks
hairclips, colitas, bows
all made my eyes glow
as I was caught in this whirlwind of negocios.

Oh, but let me tell you that after a good full day of shoppin’, your pansa was always knawin’ at your insides, growling, doing whatever it could do to let you know, it was time for Clifton’s! Clifton’s was the best!! Nothin’ ever beat a place that showed you all the food they had up front, before you ordered it and got stuck with somethin’ you didn’t like. But I always got into trouble for snooping’ around to see the desert side first. But no-no-no, I couldn’t have any of those goodies, not until I ate my full plate of comida.

It’s funny because it isn’t ‘till recently that I learned so many things about Boyle Heights and East Los Angeles. I didn’t know that they called the avenida La Brooklyn because they were trying to get people to move from the east coast to Los Angeles. I also didn’t realize that La Placita Olvera had so much history to it. It was a place filled with heavy political activity during the 1920’s. Siquieros had his “America Tropical” mural whitewashed because it portrayed a little bit too well the exploitation of labor committed to many immigrants in Los Angeles. When I was little, I just loved to go to La Placita because it reminded me so much of Tijuana. I never actually got to take a picture on the poor horses that are painted so they can look like Zebra’s, but I knew that they if I ever wanted to, I didn’t have to go to Tijuana because there was always one at La Placita. But now when I look at the bridges, I think of all the history that is embedded within the concrete. How many stories of happiness, struggle and triumph they must have to tell…

October, 2002

For more information regarding the Boyle Heights residency contact Nona Chiang.

Updated: 1/8/03